Does anyone feel that Christianity is a burden? How many have felt through their life that Christianity is a burden? Not just a “My yoke is easy, and My burden is light” burden, but the Pharisaical burden of the law. The heavy weight of things we must do in order to obtain some sort of goal that seems so unattainable. The weight that drags us into the ground, leaving us hopeless.

   I think the reason we sometimes don’t like to ask ourselves certain questions is because we are afraid of what our answer will be. We are afraid that we don’t feel the way we’re supposed to. The feelings we have might not be “doctrinally sound” and may even border on blasphemy. But if we have blasphemy in our hearts, shouldn’t we confess it to God? Shouldn’t we pour it out to Him in all of it’s honest depravity? Shouldn’t we bring it to the very center of our relationship with Him, and tell Him about its every detail, and offer it up for Him to mutilate it from our lives? Isn't that what it means to be human? Maybe you've never seen Christianity as a burden in your life. That’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that. But I’ll be honest, because if I cannot be honest then there is no reason for me to be on this blog having this conversation with the internet.

   I see the commandments of the Bible and think, if only I could follow those laws, I would learn what true life is. I would execute God's perfect plan in my life and begin the clearing of my mind to see this world as God made it to be. I see the sea of teachings the Bible contains and think, if only I could wrap my mind around these truths, if only I could shove them into my brain and come to a complete understanding of their meanings. If only I could lock myself in a room for a year and come out, having arrived at the end of all Biblical knowledge. I would unlock all the answers, and my mind would be at peace. I would know the exact course of action for every situation. I would know how to deflect every temptation. If only I could conquer every shameful sin and live free of the weight of my spiritual plagues.

   But what am I saying? What would the conclusion be if all these desires were fulfilled? I wouldn't need God. I would have reached perfection, and there would be no need to fall face first on his feet, screaming for salvation from myself and this cruel world. I would be independent, free from the world's single source of life. So these desires are wrong. I am coveting something God has not promised me. But then how do I break the cycle of this broken life?

   I find the this broken cycle of life to be a weight, and the prospect of breaking it an even greater weight, so I don't do it. I have never done anything in my life before that I didn’t want to do. That is a universal truth for everyone. No one does anything unless thy are either forced, or they want to. Some might deny this. They might say, "I do things I don't want to do all the time. I serve God when I don't feel like doing it." I would ask them, why do you do it if you don't feel like it? "Because it is what God commands." But why do you follow God’s commandments? "Because it's the right thing to do." But why do you do the right thing? Because you want to, because you want to please God because you love Him and you want to manifest that love you have to Him by being obedient. Because you know what he asks you to do is the best for you, and you want the best for your life. There may be various reasons you do what you do, but at the heart of every one of them is desire.

   The question we must ask ourselves is not whether we are obeying God, but whether we want to obey God. It’s not so much what we do that is important, but it’s what we want to do. What do we want? When our wants are in place, then our actions follow. But just because we want something doesn't mean we want it for the right reasons or that the want is sustainable. Think of the Pharisees. They wanted to follow the law because they would benefit from their pseudo righteousness.

   But remember, God never forbids us to follow Him for our own benefit. He invites us to follow Him for our benefit and He gives us incentives to follow Him as the journey progresses. The sin is not looking for our benefit, but it is looking for it in the wrong place. The Pharisees sought benefit in their own righteousness, just like I do. When I despair over this broken life, I am looking for peace and joy in what I can do to make my life free of pain. But why does God let brokenness and flaws reign in our life? Isn't it so that we will go to Him for deliverance? What is the best, to live holy, or to live by grace? If we have found complete holiness, what purpose does grace serve? If there is no grace, we are blinded to God's beauty, and life is pointless.

   I cannot speak for how God originally set up this world before the fall, but if there's anything I know about how His system is set up now it's that He loves giving grace. He wants me to feed on His grace more than He wants me to be perfect. As for the wants, He will give me the wants in His time. He will give me the desire I need to live as I should. I cannot do anything to change myself. If God did not chose salvation by works, what makes me think He has chosen sanctification by works. I can do nothing. I can beg Him for help, I can pray, but that is the opposite of action. That is confessing that I can do nothing, and asking Him to do everything for me. I am completely dependent on His grace to change me internally and give me heavenly desires. So I rest, learning once again that Christianity is no burden, but it is where you fall when the burdens of your insufficiency force you to prostrate before the ultimate reality, Jehovah. If you've reached this point of my blogpost, you are either intrigued by my derangement, or familiar with these thoughts. If it's the former, I don't care, if it's the latter, peace of Christ be with you.

   I worked at the parsonage today. That place is crazy, so many memories. The church is restoring it for future use. I was packing sheets of wood, wearing dirty gloves, breathing gulps of floating sawdust hanging in the air as the sun shot rays through it, rustic "meaning of life" music was celebrating in my right ear. Sometimes the most insignificant things mean the most, and the dirtiest things are really the most beautiful. So I don't care. My mind is at rest. Today I forget the existential quandaries of life. I have a God, and He's alive.