We Are Creatures

We often think of creatures as awful things. A creature is a creepy crawly thing. We often use the word, “creature,” in a sentence much like the following: “What is that hideous creature!” If we are not referring to worms, spiders, or some other generally detestable thing, the word “creature” is usually analogous to the word, “monster.” So to refer to a human being as a creature is thought to be an insult of some kind. Perhaps if someone called you a creature, you'd think that person was trying to say you are either ugly, evil, or good-for-nothing.

I'm here to tell you that you are a creature. I'm a creature, too. We're all creatures. And there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, it's pretty awesome to be a creature. Better to know that you are a creature than to think that you're not.

I'm sure many of you know that the root of the word, “creature,” is “create.” In essence, the definition of “creature” is, in my own words, “an animate creation.” A creature is a creation that can move, perhaps make noise; a creation that has life. To say that something is a creature is not a moral commentary of any kind. Creatures are not by definition ugly, evil, or good-for-nothing. A creature is simply something that has its origin in the work of someone or something. To say that humans are creatures, then, is simply to say that we were given life by someone or something.

Rudolf Otto was a philosopher of religion that wrote the book, The Idea of the Holy, and he argued that the ultimate source of peace, confidence, strength, enlightenment, and love is the acknowledgment that we are creatures. Otto argued that all cultures throughout time have had some “creature-consciousness.” In other words, that somewhere in our conscious minds and hearts we have a sense that there is something bigger than us that created us and gave us life. It is that creature-consciousness that, if we are aware of it, leads us through reflection to an awareness of God's presence. We can only be aware of God's presence, though, if we are first aware that we are creatures, that something hovers above and around us powerfully and mysteriously, mysteriously and powerfully.

There is nothing lowly nor demeaning in admitting that we are creatures. We are freed by that admission. We are God's creatures. Let's admit that. If we choose to think that we are not creatures, that we are independent beings who have given ourselves worth, then we ignore at least part of the love and mercy that God reaches out to us. Think of your parents. Some of you might not have great relationships with your parents, but I hope that we can all realize that no relationship is possible with our parents if we say to them, “You didn't create me. You had little to do with me or for me. I'm free of you.” All possibility of relationship would end the second you said that. The same is true with God. If in your heart you think, “I am free. I'm not a creature. I'm not lowly enough for that,” you sever some of the connection you can have with our heavenly Parent.

We are God's creatures. Think of how awesome that is. The one who created the universe, the world, and all things in it, created you, you personally, to have relationship with you. You are of divine origin. You are a divine creature. We are also human, yes. We all have our faults, but we cannot change the fact that God created us. From a divine source we come. To a divine purpose we are called. If we are not creatures, then we are only human. No part divine, no divine source, no divine calling, nothing but our human wretchedness.

Remember, you are a creature, a creation, of God. Jesus Christ came into the world to die for our sins, but He also came to open the path for us to attain our divine origin and calling. Feel free to awaken yourselves to that truth, to your divine origin, and reconnect fully with our Father, the parent of us all.

Jesus Heals

Luke 17:11-19

I encourage you to read the passage. If you are lazy at the moment, then I hope my saying that this is the story in which Jesus heals ten lepers, but only one, a Samaritan, returns to Jesus to thank Him and give Him praise. The focal point of the story seems to be the fact that a Samaritan, not the other nine Israelites, praises Jesus as the Savior. I want to focus on something slightly different. I want to focus on a possible reason why the nine Israelites did not return to praise Jesus and thank Him.

Though all of the ten lepers called out to Jesus, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!," all claiming Jesus to be something special by using, "Master," only one of them returns to thank him. That's an incredible thing. All of them claim him as master to be healed, but only one still claims him as master after being healed. Surely, this story is one that expresses the universal saving ministry of Jesus, he wasn't the Savior only for Jews. At the same time, this story is a good example of human nature. Do we not ask for things from God, desperately claiming that we'd do anything for Him if we are granted our prayer, and then do not return Him thanks?

I hope that I'm not unusual, I hope that I'm not the only person who asks and asks of God in prayer but then, upon getting what I want, forget that it was God who gave me what I asked for. We pray to God... so that we can continue living on the way we want to. We so often don't actually care about God or a relationship with our heavenly Father. We care about getting what we want.

There's nothing wrong with asking God for things that we want (unless it's world domination or something). But the key is that we remain close to God. We need to keep our relationship with our Father a close one. We pray to God out of closeness, and then we praise God out of closeness. We should not run away and go our own way. The things we are given are only worthwhile for our ultimate happiness if we live in relationship with God.

Notice in verse 12: Luke tells us that the lepers kept their distance from Jesus as they asked him for healing. Why are they keeping their distance? One might argue that they didn't want to infect Jesus with the disease. But that doesn't make any sense. If they believed in Jesus' healing powers, would they not want to get as close to Jesus as possible? Would they not flock around him, believing that they'd be healed by Jesus rather than infecting Jesus?

The real issue here is not the universal ministry of Jesus. That's a big part of it, because clearly it matters that it was a Samaritan that returned to praise Jesus. But the real issue is that the other nine lepers did not actually believe in Jesus. Sure, they may have called him Master, but they did not believe that he was Master of anything. The lepers kept their distance from Jesus and didn't return to praise him. It seems to me that if people don't really believe in Jesus, they'd think that healing that occurs is of their own doing, or some natural occurrence. The lepers, not believing in Jesus, only cautiously approached what, I imagine, they thought of as a "so-called Master."

Jesus is not a "so-called Master." He is our Master, our Savior. Believe in him. Do not cautiously approach Christ, our Redeemer. Stay near to him, never leave him. He heals and he raises from the dead. Let not your faith waver, and let not the gracious gifts of God go unpraised.

(didn't realize Jesus healed them... and how they remain away from Jesus when they cry out to Him)

What is a Pastor's Job, Really?

I've spent most of my life thinking that the pastor's job is to be the one who runs the church, performs the worship service, and occasionally take care of parishioners, and maybe some other stuff. Obviously, that is probably a good, though rather short, summary of what a pastor's job is. Many of you may want to ask, “Well what the heck else is there that the pastor does?” Essentially, nothing. In general, what the pastor does is very tangible and/or definable.

But we often ignore what the pastor's job really is, and in the process we often miss the true purpose of worshiping in church on Sunday. First of all, the pastor isn't filling a job. Sure, everyone has certain expectations of a pastor that they need to be aware of. At the end of the day, though, a pastor is called to fulfill a vocation. What's the difference between a job and a vocation? By definition, nothing. I draw a distinction between job and vocation because I tend to think that our understanding of “job” as a set of requirements to satisfy and once we've satisfied them we won't think about doing anything more, whereas a vocation to me is an abstract principle.

Let me quickly expand a little to explain what I mean. Every job has both a “job” and a “vocation.” For instance, a bookseller's job is to sell books, perhaps to take care of customers so well that the bookseller convinces people to buy more books. A bookseller's vocation, though, whether or not the bookseller thinks of it that way, is to increase the literacy of society, literacy in language and in literature. Certainly, some booksellers arrive at their job simply because that job was available and may not care what their vocation is. But the end result of selling books is the vocation: increasing the literacy of society. So we can think of one's vocation as the desired end of what we do, and one's job as the specifics we must do to achieve that desired end.

What is the pastor's desired end? What is the pastor's vocation? What does a pastor actually do? In all that they do, pastors are meant to create an atmosphere in which parishioners can experience God. A pastor's job is not to make people happy or to make the hour we spend on Sundays as enjoyable, as tolerable, as possible. Hopefully that's included in helping people experience God. But at the heart of a pastor's vocation is creating a holy atmosphere in which parishioners can hopefully say, “Today I experienced the love of Christ.”

No pastor should ever think, “I do such and such for the people of my congregation.” And no congregation should think, “Our pastor does such and such for us.” Yeah, “pastor” carries a job description, but focusing on the specifics of what a pastor does misses what a pastor actually does. A pastor's vocation is far more important a thing to focus on. And at the heart of it all, a pastor lets the Spirit work through them so that others may experience the eternal love of our Father.

That should have implications for those of us who sit in the pews on Sunday. We should not sit in church watching how well the pastor molds a worship service, how good of a sermon the pastor preaches, or hoping that the music can energize us enough to get us through the service. Let us put faith that our pastors are creating for us a space to experience God, and so let us glory in the presence of our beloved Father, no matter how well the pastor fulfills their “job.”