It’s been weeks (or days at least) since I’ve promoted Andrew Klavan. In this LA Times piece today he analyzes Hollywood’s problem with portraying the War on Terror, and as usual he’s dead on. H/T to Dave Lull for the link.
High drama at my house last night—not the kind that would make a John Woo movie, or even an Edward Albee drama, but the internal kind.
I paid my bills, and there was an insurance bill in there I’d been worrying about. Sure enough, when all was done and I looked at my checkbook balance, a metaphorical hand, cold as a pump handle in February, took hold of my heart. The balance was about the size of the check for a large party at a nice restaurant (not that I ever eat at nice restaurants).
I’ll get paid in a few days, so it wasn’t the end of the world, barring emergencies. But it scared me badly. I’m not a gambler, and I find myself in a game of economic Russian Roulette these days.
Many Christians don’t worry about such things, or claim they don’t. “Jesus promised us our daily bread,” they say. “He’ll always provide for our physical needs.”
I don’t read the Bible that way. Lots of better Christians than me have lost homes, family members and their very lives without Jesus doing anything about it. I think the error comes from mistaking Jesus’ point. I don’t believe He meant to say that we were guaranteed some kind of miraculous minimum wage. I think He meant that we have to orient our spirits to understand that all we really need is Him, and if He chooses to deny us any “necessity,” it’s because it’s not really a necessity. Only He is a necessity.
Which isn’t to deny that God generally provides most of us our daily bread. I know the stories about George Mueller. It’s just that sometimes He doesn’t provide physical needs, and it’s always His choice, for His purposes. We can’t manipulate Him, and we’ve got no right to complain if the decision isn’t one we like.
In other words, God has the right to take my house, and I have to live with that. Rejoice in it, even.
Then, just before bedtime, I picked up the mail I’d gotten that day, and forgotten to open. There was a reimbursement check from my health insurance flex account. I’d pretty much forgotten it was coming. It didn’t entirely solve my problem, but it certainly increased my comfort level.
Frankly that spooked me as much as the low balance had.
Hah, yeah, that is a very hard point to wrap your head around. Had similar experiences to the check thing here and there…
Don’t ya just love it when God says…”SURPRISE!” “He knows the plans He has for you…” and its all good.
Lars,
Yep, you nailed it.
Our standard is a 3,000 square foot house, a pantry stocked with organic munchies from Whole Foods, two late-model cars, two kids (one of each sex) well on their way to Harvard, a couple walk-in closets (filled), Botox as needed, and an enviable career.
Jesus promises food, clothing, and shelter. He just doesn’t make any claims on how trendy any of that may be.
This is an extremely hard thing for middle-class Christians to understand, especially as the middle class continues to slip. And they’re slipping everywhere I look.
Very few people thought the last election was a mandate on the economy, especially since the GOP thought the economy was their “killer app.” But protectionist Democrats trounced their free-trade GOP counterparts in every election. This was followed by a Christmas that retailers would choose to forget.
Everyone’s been pinched. My energy costs alone went up about 30% this year. And that energy price tag trickled down into every good and service I purchased.
Hey, where’s my 30% cost of living increase?
The American Church has its head buried in the sand on this. Each of us thinks he’s smart enough to outwit what may be coming down the pike. We don’t need to actually live as a real community of saints. We can go it alone.
But if we don’t hang together on this, we may each hang separately.
Heh, you were spooked? That’s story reminds me of one I heard John MacArthur tell. His son was in serious trouble, I think, and MacArthur fasted for a few days to intercede for him. I don’t remember how long his fast went, but it weakened him a good bit. He decided he would end it one afternoon (or maybe he wondered if he should end it) and wasn’t sure the Lord was hearing him, and as if on que, one of his staff brought him a big sandwich unrequested. She knew only that he was under pressure and thought he could use a sandwich. MacArthur said he felt God had ended his fast with a blessing, saying he knew everything and would provide for him.