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He loves you, not your Lexus.

Commercialized Christianity.

I termed it this way to one of my very cool blog readers (Hi, Daniel!), and it’s stuck like gum to the shoe that is my brain.

Or something like that.

I don’t know if you feel it, but it seems pretty prevalent. Doctrine based on the prosperity gospel (this concept that financial blessing and physical well-being are always God’s will for a person…um….have these people met God?) and other false doctrine tends to lend itself to this new-fangled term.

Or maybe it’s old-fangled. Maybe there’s a whole Wikipedia page about it that I’m too lazy look up. In that case, apologies.

I guess my issue now (as well as back in the day when God was the last thing on my mind…right after getting an “oil change.” I mean, that just sounds gross) is that people turn the grit and grime of Biblical living into a beautiful little present with just the cutest little bow on top.

Have you gone outside?

Nothing cute about that mess.

This life is no different from when Moses was wandering out in the desert, face in his hands.

True, Christ came and He rose and we have that good news (no wait, BEST news) in our hearts that makes this life so worth living now.

But there is absolutely nothing cutesy and safe about this walk with Christ. In fact, let me remind of you something:

So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.
Luke 14:33 

When Jesus had called the Twelve together, he gave them power and authority to drive out all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal the sick. He told them: “Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra shirt. Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave that town. If people do not welcome you, leave their town and shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.” Luke 9:1-5

As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
He said to another man, “Follow me.”
But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”
Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”
Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”
Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Luke 9:57-62

It might just be me, but I’m getting the sinking suspicion Jesus isn’t too concerned with how many Lexuses I own.

I’m not saying having money is bad. I’m not saying being prosperous is bad. And I’m definitely not saying that’s not God’s will for you.

What I am saying is that your security, safety, and good fortune are not the point of the Gospel.

Jesus is the point of the Gospel. How He lived and died and loves you and me and every sinner in this world despite the fact that we certainly don’t deserve it.

Maybe, just maybe we shouldn’t read the Bible to learn about ourselves, and instead, read the Bible to learn about Him.

One last note: Have you ever read the Book of Job? Do you understand the point of Job’s story? It’s this idea that God allowed so many horrible things to happen to poor Job, not to punish him, but to elevate him to a spiritual status like none other.

God loved Job. So God gave Job a trial to further their relationship together and to release Job of everything that doesn’t matter in this world.

Everything but God.

And I can assure you this: Job never received a Lexus.

And I have a feeling that Job didn’t care.


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To suffering: until we meet again.

My Job period is coming to a close.

If you haven’t heard me screaming from my rooftop and seen the clumps of hair I’ve been scattering through the city, then let me bring you up to speed: I’m thirty-three-years-old. And I’ve been battling acne.

It’s been a hard turn of events for someone who was once stopped in the street by a member of the male sex in his mid-twenties and was told point blank, “You are really naturally pretty.”

It also may have been in the middle of the night. And that guy might have been stumbling drunk out of a bar.

But still.

I’ve learned this: I’m a very vain person, and I put a lot of stock into my looks. Which is really too bad because despite the acne, my looks are leaving me and will continue to do so.

Age, man. It’s a losing battle.

But I’ve chosen better instead of bitterness. I’ve chosen the Job route: getting angry at God only to have a conversation with Him and to really understand that He is the Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth. And maybe this point in my life isn’t a punishment but an opportunity.

An opportunity to get over myself and learn who I really am.

Without all that wretched prettiness getting in the way.

I have a purpose, a calling. An urge to write truth and let it sting the page.

Maybe I’ll focus on that for a little bit. And let the catcalls of a mid-twenties drunkard be the faint whisper of a bitterly sweet life.

Once here. Now gone.

Bring on the future.


Never fear. I’ll be writing another post about how exactly I cured my acne in case you, too, are an early-thirties victim of this Job-like epidemic. Prayers and hugs to you. And perhaps start walking around aimlessly in the city to find some drunk dude willing to give you well meaning compliments.

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