This is the final journal entry in a series for a class taken in Spring 2007. Topics are addressed along with our image of God-- how the topic affects our image of God, how our image of God affects our life.
My humanity has always posed a bit of a challenge. I have wished for super-human powers, but usually this is done out of selfish ambition versus the good of all humanity. I am not saying I would not serve humanity with my awesome powers. I am just thinking it would be nice to utilize my mental prowess or superhuman ability to shut the door or get something out of the refrigerator without physically getting up. Perhaps, the innate ability to ward off stains, and of course, set the world right wherever I go. Jesus does healings, miracles, and tosses out demons, but I never saw him utilize His heat-vision to warm a piece of toast. At times, I expect Superpower Jesus to superpower me.
I think most Christians have tortured themselves at some point with, “I’m not supposed to say that, think that, or act that. So, why did I? What if people really knew?” Knew what? -- That you are human? My goodness, I guess that would be a surprise.
It seems to me that we put a lot of undue pressure on ourselves towards perfection. I am highly guilty setting a high level of behavior for myself. I expect a level of perfection from myself, and as Christians, we begin to expect a high level/perfect behavior from each other. Churches really only tolerate a certain level or kind of behavior. Would I consider God ready to put some of us out as quickly as we are apt to do to each other? I think we are prone to do it quicker.
Occasionally, I am resentful of the way the Holy Spirit convicts me. I wonder why the Holy Spirit convicts me for a certain behavior, word, action, and yet, I see other Christians getting away with it. My response is not much better than a second graders, “How come they can do that, but I can’t?” Secretly, I want to get away with it, too. I also resent them for not trying to live to a higher standard of Christ-like obedience and behavior. (In honesty, my standard.) I perceive my actions would be different when at times they are very much the same. Yet, I do not think of God as being unfair, but just. It is my own difficulty with tolerance.
My favorite super-hero since I was young was Spiderman, because he was cool, had a quick wit, and wrestled with angst. In short, he was really human. Peter Parker was always wondering if he was doing the right thing. Inevitably, when he did the right thing, it would be misunderstood. As I have grown and become more Christ-like, I am still undoubtedly and ontologically imperfect. Now that I follow Christ, my life is much healthier and I make better choices, but I still mess up and am prone to the same mistakes. After seminary, I still will not be perfect or any closer to perfection. Yet, I will continue to grow and experience transformation.
God does not expect perfection. He desires obedience. It is easy to paint Jesus as stoic and far removed from His humanity. However, scripture attests to Jesus’ full humanity and divinity. Yet, we fail to identify Jesus’ humanity as being similar to our own. Our humanity, however, is not evil. (I know this may slam against some theologies. Oh well.) I think part of our transformation is being able to grasp or understand our humanity, yet, press into the divine.
The church often accepts the fact that we are human in the beginning of our walks. However, at some point, a subconscious expectation grasps us-- our transformation should involve perfection. We expect that we should become super-hero Christians. If I am unable to embrace my humanity then am I readily able to accept others in theirs?
In a similar conversation regarding this and change, a friend asked, “What do you need to change about yourself?” A few things popped into my head, and I shockingly realized that the things that popped into my head, were entirely human things. In essence, I wanted to change my humanity. After thinking for a moment, I answered that I did not know, but believed change was necessary to transformation in order for me to become more Christ-like. However, I do not think God made us human so that we would ‘work’ ourselves out of being human. Maybe becoming more Christ-like is simply lending more of our humanity to God.
I would rather give my all and fail in love, then succeed in pride. The benefit is I can guarantee that I will fail in love. In addition, Jesus in His humanity did give all; he did love all out, and took the risk in doing so. I am reminded that we measure success and failure quite differently then God, so I wonder if I can just trust God to work through my humanity.