Prayer 31: “May my needs be evermore entangled with my charity, benevolence, offering, and care for others.”
I am always exasperated when I hear the invitation to be like Jesus.
My thoughts trail to the Christan marketing slogan made popular in the 1990s, “What Would Jesus Do?” (W.W.J.D.). It is obvious that this marketing strategy accomplished its mission. The phrase is now a stubborn shackle in my mind.
But something else lingers too. It is a dangerous question. It is an honest one.
Why?
Why are we charged to “be imitators of God” (Ephesians 5:1)? To achieve this means to engage in a cycle of futility. Why does the Teacher ask us to journey the impassable?
Every moment is an exam to get it right. A grocery run becomes a highlight of moral bankruptcy. A fellow cohort member of life’s journey is down on his luck. He does not ask for money. He is hungry. And thirsty. He looks at me. He asks.
Be like Jesus. The second greatest commandment attempts to connect to its target. W.W.J.D. Why are you still in my head?
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Give to this man. Love your neighbor. Jesus would. Please.
I pause. I demand a response from my altruistic center. It delivers a response in kind.
Why?
I doom myself into wonted disappointment. I continue through the open sliding doors. There is no answer to this man’s requisition. Defeat gently cradles his head down. It does the same to me.
“Why should I” becomes “Why didn’t I?”
A rationalization forms in bullet points.
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I don’t have enough money to spare.
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I’m here for dinosaur nuggets (My girls love them.).
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I’m on a tight budget. There won’t be enough for our tithe.
I dispatch the events to my wife. Together we revise the rationalization in bullet points.
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I don’t have enough money to spare–Yes, we do.
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I’m here for dinosaur nuggets (My girls love them.)–The man is hungry, too.
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I’m on a tight budget. There won’t be enough for our tithe–Did you love your neighbor?
I am not a theologian. I am not equipped to debate if giving to those in need would constitute offering tithe. God is love though, right? God calls us to love. Maybe it will be OK.
I return in search of my neighbor. He is gone.
Why didn’t I help him? Why didn’t I choose to love? Why are we even tasked with what is beyond execution? Why?
We are all authorities on deficiency. Be like Jesus. Provide charity to the sufferers. Model benevolence that seeks good. Give because it is love.
Yet, this commission is impractical. It is impossible. We will fall short. Make no mistake about the failure that is laying in wait. And yet, it is not armed with insult. Instead, with a smile.
Why?
Salvation earned by the Crucifixion is the zenith of defiance.
Defiance to save the impractical. The decision to give love and grace to all and all that will be. Even to those that ask silly questions. Questions like “Why?”
Are we not made in God’s image? Isn’t it human nature to try again? Perhaps this trait of defiance has found a home in us. Must I–we, aim to carry out this duty of love despite our failure? This is an act of rebellion. To love. It seems that is how the Teacher has created us.
There is more ahead. I will fail. I am good at it.
I will not stop, though.
We rebel despite failure.
Why?
Answer: Love.
Israel Carreón Jr. is a husband and father that searches for beauty in words.
These reflections stand alone, but if you want to enjoy the prayers from May It Be So that they’re based on, please click here to request a copy of the book.