Biblical example: Rich young ruler. We have it all and are striving for lots more. Every person in this country has 100 times more than 85% of the world’s population. We have been and are blessed by American Jesus. The problem is that Bible Jesus demands one more thing from us and we are just like the rich young ruler. We turn our backs on Bible Jesus and cling to American Jesus.

We are just like our savior, American Jesus has given us everything we have ever wanted. Now Bible Jesus is the problem with us, He asked us to do something and we look Him in the eye and say, “Who are you to ask me to do that?”

We woship American Jesus. I can prove it. Most people in the world, if they have four walls do so with less then 50 sqf per person in the home. In my home it is 500 sqf.

In my home we have 4 televisions, 4 cable boxes, high speed internet and 3 computers.

In my home we give 10% to church, the widow in the Bible gave it all.

In my house we spend about $200 a week on groceries and household goods. Almost all of the world survives on less than $200 every two months.

In my house we have 2 nice cars. most of the people in the world do not even have 1.

I have a double oven and want another double oven because sometimes I need 4 to cook everything at its desired temp.

I worship American Jesus and will die for him. American Jesus is a rugged individualist, not a socialist or communist. Bible Jesus was communal and functioned within community not communism.

I believe I am just like my savior, American Jesus. He even worships the ground I walk on because he wants to be like me too.

I think that’s what is under my skin today. We (humans, not just christians) want to take the path of least resistance, hoping for some kind of effortless changling to emerge. We don’t want to take up our cross of any kind.

yet as I rant…I know I’m not really any different. Although I may really have moments of progress to Christlikeness… it does seem very slow progress.

Any progress whatsoever is grace. That’s abundantly clear. What’s not clear is how to maintain that progress. To keep crucifying my flesh and killing my ‘best life now’ is a daily struggle. It does, at times, get easier. Other times it feels like I need jesus more than ever.

It reminds me of an Oscar Wilde quote: “I’m too old to know all the answers.”

But grace abounds.

I’m not entirely sure what Jesus, exactly, most American Christians want to be like. Jesus is, after all, an actual person. But so much of what I hear sounds like the construct of a Jesus they imagine rather than one who actually exists. (I do recall Anne Lamott’s line here: You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out God hates all the same people you do.)

Yet whether it is the actual Jesus or a Jesus of their own construction, a lot of what I hear about how to become like that Jesus sounds to my ears like magical thinking. (I was going to say sympathetic magic, but I don’t think it even rises to that level.) Somehow you are going to be magically (and presumably painlessly) transformed into the likeness of Christ. Poof! You’re no longer a frog. You’re a prince. While there is some debate over whether this happens (at least in part) while you’re alive or if it all occurs when you die, the general sense I get is that it’s just something that happens to you.

Pshaw. There’s nothing even vaguely like that in the Jewish and Christian story. No wonder people don’t see Christians who look like Christ. Most of them are not working to be like Christ in any discernible way. They are (at best) waiting for the magic. In the meantime, they are busily remaking “Christ” in their own image and likeness.

I certainly have my own issues and myriad ways that I am so unlike Christ. And I’m struggling to get to know the real Christ rather than my own mental construct of him. (We do the same thing with human relationships, but we usually try to break through those. I don’t see the same recognition and effort when it comes to Jesus.) But I’ve never had the particular sort of magical thinking which seems to permeate American Christianity. I guess that’s just a side effect of my sort of cultural experience.

I’ve never been under the illusion that becoming Christian was an intellectual exercise that required no action. In fact, I’ve often been overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of change and array of often very specific actions required.

In truth, the actual steps to follow the Buddha are easier to do than those required to follow Jesus. In fact, I would say the practices required to follow Jesus are impossible, especially for the rich. (Funny. I seem to remember somebody else saying something much like that.)

This is where Christianity suddenly shifts, though. Jesus promises us super-abundant, overflowing grace (the actual energy and power of God — not just some intellectual legal fiction — let’s get grace right, at least) to enable us to change. In fact, we receive those energies directly from God himself, pitching his tents with us in our bodies.

And Christians have developed an enormous array of practices and disciplines that, when practiced with the proper intent and will, allow us to put into practice specific practices and changes in small, baby steps. However, fueled by the grace of God, implementing those practices do not result in simple linear change. Nor would I call it any other sort of curve. The chart of progress becomes chaotic, with small and large gains and losses — movement all over the place and seemingly out of control. And yet, it is centering on the actual person of Jesus.

But we have to act. We have to put the small steps into practice and follow them to the larger. And hold on for dear life. If we don’t do that, all the intellectual belief in the world won’t make us the slightest bit like Jesus.

First thoughts are often the best thoughts, but they are also wrought with a simpletons answer to BIG questions.