Doing what’s necessary

It seems to me that Jesus didn’t do the things He could afford; He did what had to be done. He didn’t estimate His limitations and act accordingly. Rather, He acted according to the will of His Father.

When He had 5,000 to feed, Jesus didn’t feed only those for whom there were immediate provisions. He fed them all.

Jesus didn’t heal only during office hours, but as many as came to Him He made whole.

When He admonished, He did so with love – not to vent His spleen because somebody crossed Him, but because they needed correction to make straight the way for their own salvation.

So often the story of Jesus driving the moneychangers from the temple is cited as the text to justify justifiable anger. It’s hard for me to imagine Jesus doing anything out of anger and not love. Zeal is a very different thing from anger. He had zeal for His Father’s house and the moneychangers needed to have that, too. The moneychangers needed to be admonished. Surely moneychangers are people, heirs to the Kingdom, children of God. Surely Jesus loved them. He did what He had to do. It’s not easy to make a point in a raucous din.

For me, the challenge to live the Gospel message is a daily struggle. Always, it seems, I am beset on all sides because I count the cost rather than doing what needs to be done. I compromise, fear criticism, shrug because of weakness.

I’ve let banal, empty, vapid, inane television sap the vitality from the godly responsibilities and joys of fatherhood and being a husband. I use the old bromide that TV can be a good thing when I know that for every hour of decent programming there are a hundred hours of mindless crud. I compromise.

What Gospel imperative keeps me glued to the set? I know – the need for rest. Lo, on Judgement Day, the Lord said unto Tom, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You are among the best rested in My Kingdom!”

I spend time with, uh, unbelievers from time to time and God help me, I feel embarrassed identifying myself with Jesus Christ. I say it, but my heart and my mouth are in two different places. Among the faithful, faith is easy. Among those in sore need of Clear Light, I feel torn between wanting acceptance on the world’s terms and counting all as dung except the Cross of Christ.

However, if I continually focus on my weakness, my weakness becomes my focus. There is another way. That is to focus on what needs to be done, to keep my eye on the prize and on Him Who can accomplish what I cannot.

As I rise to a new day and feel the call to prayer, if my focus is no the ache of sleep, yesterday’s failure, today’s pressing business – I will not pray. If, however, I do not count the cost – the time, the mental energy, the foregone worldly strategizing – then comes the miracle, the blessing and the privilege of communion with God Himself, with Whom time does not exist, Whose mind is the engine of Life itself, Whose strategies long have been laid out. I will have done what had to be done. –T.R.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor on August 16th, 1987