Oh, There You Are!

The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Messiah. John answered them all, “I baptize you with water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” And with many other words John exhorted the people and proclaimed the good news to them.  (Luke 3:15-18)

God Thoughts:

Mankind’s progress may be celebrated (or discredited) by such innovations as the Sham-wow and the advent of the Cheeto but one thing that has not progressed in 2000 years is our tendency to look for a savior in all the wrong places and faces. 

Ancient Jews were looking for their promised Messiah and thought they’d found him in John. Sure, he spoke with firey authority and miraculously survived on a diet of insects while sporting the ultimate in retro-”primitive” fashion, but their vision of God’s Messiah, like ours, was still too small.

We all want to be saved. Saved from a world gone crazy, saved from bad eating habits or saved from reality TV. But ultimately, we need to be saved from ourselves. God’s servants--mere men--may call us to repent and inspire us with their message to change but only the true Messiah can save us because it will take an act of the divine to do it. And the good news John spoke of? That Messiah is already here.

Reflection Question:

Do you tend to look for hope in the message of another? In a movement? A philosophy or way of living? 

Life As I Know It:

There’s a scene in Peter Pan with Robin Williams that almost makes me cry. A middle-aged Peter back in Never Land is no longer recognized by his friends until the smallest boy takes his face into his hands, smooths back his skin, squints hard into his eyes and sighs, “Oh, Peter, there you are!”

I sometimes look at myself in the mirror and pulling back muscles into their “rightful” place, see a face reflected that I used to know. And I think, “Oh, Kelli, there you are!” as if who I am is inextricably bound to 1992. 

Aging is a hard thing. I want to do it gracefully but the truth is, I don’t like it. And so I find myself putting my hope in L’Oreal and entertaining--however briefly--the fantasy of what I would look like if I could justify the cost and muster the courage to undergo a little nip and tuck. Thankfully, my fear of needles and anything that remotely feels like pain stops that fantasy short. But my thoughts do wander...

And then there’s my eyes. 20/20 vision all my life and now? Not so much. And weight gain? Oh please. But what is this really about, anyway? Humanity has always aged. It’s what we do. It’s like caterpillars and butterflies only sort of in reverse. So why does it bother us? Why does it bother me?

I think it’s because it makes me feel vulnerable. Weak. I don’t like needing to rely on glasses to see, on hair color to be more “beautiful” and, one day perhaps, on others to drive for me or to make decisions for me. I realize I don’t like the idea of a life that will more and more reflect one who needs to be saved. 

But isn’t that exactly what I need? And what I profess to have found thanks to Christ? Aging isn’t something I should fear. If anything, it’s a gift that strips me of my delusion that I will live in this place forever. Because I won’t. And that’s good news. The One who saved me 25 years ago is preparing me to embark on quite an Adventure. Aging is just a friendly reminder that it’s coming even sooner than I think. 

I just hope he doesn’t mind if I’m wearing a little L’Oreal when I get there.