Tag Archive: heaven

Kingdom of Heaven: Talent

Within the framework of our own unique, personal covenant, God gives each of us talent, and work to use our gifts. Some people have really big jobs, lifelong commitments, that only end with their death: Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr., for example.

Some have medium-sized jobs, like three years in the peace corps. But most of us don’t have the opportunity or ability to be the Pope. Instead we have the smallest, simplest tasks of all, like a smile to brighten someone’s day.

The people with big and medium-sized jobs know they have a responsibility. A teacher is a teacher every day. And, if we aren’t mindful, those of us with small jobs might decide to not even bother. Who cares if we don’t smile?

“And this is the Father’s will which hath sent me, that of all which he hath given me I should lose nothing….”-John 6:39.

In order for Jesus to not lose any one of us, he needs all of us to help. In every interaction, we reinforce hope or despair. Big, medium, or small: All jobs, like all people, are equal in God’s eyes. When we are born again, we recognize the possibilities and responsibilities of the so-called small jobs.

“For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods.”-Matthew 25:14.

Everyone serves God’s will, from Nebuchadnezzar (who enslaved the Jews) to Cyrus (who freed them). Simply stated, God’s will is whatever happens. Whatever we accomplish, whether we see it as good or bad, big or small, we serve each other.

“If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet.”-John 13:14.

We are all shepherds and sheep, the Lord’s servants and goods. Don’t misunderstand the labeling here. We tend to think of big as not being small; good is opposite evil. But God is Alpha and Omega. And so are we.

“But many that are first shall be last; and the last first.”-Mark 10:31.

We are all greater heroes, and cowards, than anyone can possibly imagine…let alone witness. The first equals the last. We are all God’s will, and we serve all that is, was, and will be.

We do this according to how we treat each other. Whether or not we use our talent in our work remains up to us. The Lord steps back (metaphorically) going “into a far country,” and allows us to handle each other in whatever ways we choose.

“And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability; and straightway took his journey.”-Matthew 25:15.

God never gives us more than we can handle. He pushes us to our limits, to show us what we can do, even when we think we can’t, and to show us our hearts. It’s no easy thing, to finish Jesus’ mission, to continue in the spirit of Moses, when we have but one talent to bring hope to billions.

“…for the LORD your God proveth [tests] you, to know whether ye love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul.”-Deuteronomy 13:3.

God knows our hearts, and tests us so that we know our hearts.

We can’t directly save billions, with our one little gift. Instead, we work with one smile at a time, a supportive gesture, giving love to the loveless, and hope to the hopeless.

Have faith in this good seed.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.”-Proverbs 3:5.

We can’t even save one life. But that soul we touch, and aid in the reinforcing of hope, touches others; and those lives, others. Faith and despair grow by degrees, one at a time. Before we know it, the world is full of fear or faith. Everyone counts; everything we do adds up, always moving forward in whatever direction we nudge it.

All this begins when we are born again, realizing our small, but absolutely necessary place in the universe. Remember, God wants to give us the kingdom of heaven.

“Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”-Luke 12:32.

He already has: Heaven is within us, each of us, all of us; it’s all around us. We just need new eyes, and new ears. The first step comes when we accept our talent and limitations.

“Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and made them other five talents.”-Matthew 25:16.

A talent was not a coin, but a weight. It’s value depended on whether it was made of copper, silver, or gold. Silver was the most commonly used, and was worth approximately $600,000 (in our modern economy). It weighed from 75-130 pounds (34-58.9 kilograms).

So the first servant (as we’d see it today) had (5 x 600,000) 3 million dollars to trade with. His lord trusted him with that much of his money. The servant proved worthy of his master’s faith, doubling what he entrusted to him.

“And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two.”-Matthew 25:17.

Interestingly enough, our current usage of the word “talent” comes from this parable: meaning gift or skill. When we have money, it’s easy to make more. We still have to work for it, but we have something obvious and tangible to trade with others.

Whether it’s art, science, sports, or a heartfelt smile, if we exercise our talent, our ability grows. The more we use it, the more we can do with it. Practice makes perfect.

If we don’t use our talents, we lose them.

“…every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.”–Matthew 3:10.

We keep what we use. If we stop forgiving, soon we’ll forget how to do it. Same goes for everything. We teach ourselves, commit ourselves to whatever we do regularly. This is one of the best reasons for mindfulness: the absence of which is mindlessness.

These first two servants increased their talents, doubled them, by using them. The wording fascinates me too. They “received” these talents from their lord; they “traded” them with other people; and, by trading them, “gained” as much as they shared.

“…freely ye have received, freely give.”-Matthew 10:8.

We reason, incorrectly, that if we give something to someone, even our love, compassion, and forgiveness, then we lose what we give away. But God gave these to us. We received them freely. Instead of hoarding our gifts, if we pass them on to others, who need them, the Lord blesses us for blessing others. Then we gain double, and lose nothing.

“But he that had received one [talent] went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord’s money.”-Matthew 25:18.

I interpret this servant as the parable’s main character. He is the “everyman”: an ordinary individual with whom the reader identifies. There’s only one Moses or Jesus. Most of us are on the sidelines, watching the game. We can’t tackle, pass, or run; we’re too clumsy to dribble; we couldn’t hit water if we fell out of a boat: mostly because we’re lazy and scared; we feel weak and unimportant.

We have one talent (which is still worth over half-a-million dollars), but we feel impotent and jealous, when comparing ourselves to the servant who has 3 million.

“And Moses said unto God, Who am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt?”-Exodus 3:11.

Not everyone can be the drum major, the General, the Messiah. Not everyone can fight in armies, or serve as apostles. Some stay behind, by necessity or choice or fear. Maybe we have tried to do good, lending a hand here and there, but got stomped on, heedless of Jesus’ warning:

“…behold, I send you forth as lambs among wolves.”-Luke 10:3.

With our love defeated, and fear triumphant, we became the lost sheep: the very ones Jesus came to save. That’s why this servant is our main character. That’s why Jesus loves us, and died for us.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”-John 3:16.

Don’t give up. It’s not too late. God needs and loves you, and wants you to be in the kingdom. You are a unique part of the universe. Only you can accomplish what your special talent inspires.

But the clock ticks ever onward.

“After a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and reckoned with them.”-Matthew 25:19.

Remember, before going “into a far country,” their lord “delivered unto them his goods.” He made no mention of what the servants should do with what he gave them. He left his wealth in their hands. But he gifted each “according to his several ability.”

So their lord gave them talent based on what they could do with it.

Jesus told us to watch and be ready; but how can we, when we don’t know what to prepare for, or how to make ourselves ready?

Ah, but see, if we prepare for what we know will come, then we’ve prepared, as much as possible, for what we don’t know will come. Right now, no matter what happens, we need to learn and work on love: compassion, mercy, forgiveness, tolerance, and thankfulness. These things help us right now, and prepare us for whatever comes.

“And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five talents more.”-Matthew 25:20.

This servant received love, shared it with others, and earned love in return. If we feel and share love, then we have spread the Word, not by insistent conversion, but by our works, and our example.

“His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.”-Matthew 25:21.

This servant was good and faithful because he accepted the unspoken responsibility that came with his lord’s gift, which he loaned or entrusted to the servant for safe keeping. Our talent no more belongs to us than the air, or the planets.

The servant was faithful because he knew the talent belonged to his lord, from whom he received it. And he was good because he received love, shared it, and returned it to the source. When we are good and faithful, we are ready to be born again.

“He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them. / His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.”-Matthew 25:22, 23.

You know that wonderful feeling when you’ve done something good? That is the joy of the Lord. Imagine a whole life, or just weeks or years of having those feelings stored, ready for perusal and judgment of yourself. We don’t need a literal catastrophe, or the seven vials filled with the seven final plagues. All we need is one night, lying awake in bed, regretting what we’ve done.

“The merciful man doeth good to his own soul: but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh.”-Proverbs 11:17.

Whatever sin means in the heavenly sense, the earthly definition reveals cruelty to others that ricochets back on the sinner. This wakes us in the middle of the night, judges and condemns us when our own personal Judgment Day, our guilt, turns the moon into blood.

So it goes, when we refuse to give to others what God gave to us.

“Then he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed.”-Matthew 25:24.

What can we say, on Judgment Day, when we failed and know it? The servant tried to deflect the blame onto his lord, insulting his employer. Had the servant claimed ignorance (at least), or repented (at most), he might have escaped his lord’s wrath.

The servants received no instructions on what to do with these talents. Since this last servant didn’t know how to use his gift, and if he was willing to try again, and do it right, maybe…just maybe….

“And the rest of the men which were not killed by these plagues yet repented not of the works of their hands….”-Revelation 9:20.

But he was too prideful, trying to stand tall in the midst of the storm. Why can’t we admit when we’re wrong? It’s natural to make mistakes, if we don’t know the rules. But we act like we’re always right.

It’s not my fault; it’s yours!

“And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine.”-Matthew 25:25.

Here we see the true root of pride: fear. The strong know how weak they are; the courageous know their fear. But we who fake strength and courage, so others (who also fake these noble traits) accept us as one of their own, do so out of fear.

We hide our glorious gift, bury it, as if it were dead and did not exist. People suffer when we don’t give them our love and compassion; we suffer by not sharing it. No one gains anything, when we bury our heads and hearts.

When we ignore a part of the body, the whole body suffers. We are all a part of the body of the universe.

God knows who we are, and whether or not we’re ready to be born again. Judgment Day does not condemn us, but rather tests us, so we learn what we lack.

“For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”-John 3:17.

We cannot learn unless we’re ready. God tests us so that we know ourselves: how small and large, insignificant and important we are.

Jonah tried to run, because he wasn’t ready to use his talent to help others. But the storms came, and the sea raged; the sailors cast him off the ship, and he lived in the belly of the great fish, until he accepted who he was, and what he needed to do.

“The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head. // When my soul fainted within me I remembered the Lord: and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple.”-Jonah 2:5, 7.

I think we must enjoy getting lost, so that we feel the rapture of being found. That’s why the Lord is my shepherd: I am the most wayward of sheep. Like our “everyman” servant, and Jonah, I run, sometimes stopping for a moment, to do something helpful and loving, then go right back to running. More great fish have swallowed and vomited me out, than I can count.

Sometimes, when I want to help others, the task and responsibility overwhelms me. The adversary inside my heart tells me, You’re weak and stupid, and can do no good, only harm; walk away. Sometimes I stand firm; other times, I agree with this judgment of my worth.

That’s when the Lord smites me, like a dog owner, who lightly smacks their beloved pet on the nose for making a mess on the carpet.

“His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed.”-Matthew 25:26.

In this parable, Jesus not only defines what is good, and what is wicked, but shows us our relationship with God, and the Lord’s almighty will.

We are good when we receive God’s gift, and acknowledge it by sharing it with others, especially those who need love. We are wicked when we are too lazy, prideful, and scared: when we surrender to the adversary within, our own personal Satan.

“Remove far from me falsehood and lies; Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with mine allotted bread.”-Proverbs 30:8.

(Slight departure from the norm: I took that quote from the Jewish Holy Scriptures, because I liked the wording.)

We each have our allotted bread, our specific talent, which is a part of our unique covenant. You have what God gave you, and I have something different. Separately, we’re incomplete, wicked; together, we complete God’s will, which is good.

The servant’s insult (“…I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed.”) was not a lie! His lord verified it. If God neither sows, nor straws, who does?

We do. God reaps and gathers what we sow and straw.

Jesus never left Palestine, but told his disciples that his gospel will be taught in the entire world. How? Through us and our works: He gave us the gospel, and left it up to us, as to what we’d do with it. God gave Moses the Law, and Moses passed it on to the Israelites, who gave it to us.

What will we do with this good news? What will you do with it?

“Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money [talent] to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received mine own with usury.”-Matthew 25:27.

In Jesus’ time, usury was lending money with high rates of interest, an illegal activity in Israel, but practiced, nevertheless. In this second verse, from the lord to his wicked and slothful servant, I’m reminded of the money changers in the temple.

Everyone had to exchange Roman currency, or any other foreign coins, for local coinage, in order to donate it to the temple. The money changers charged exorbitant fees, knowing the pilgrims couldn’t exchange their money anywhere else. Jesus called them “a den of thieves.”

But at least, with this illegal activity, the lazy servant could have traded his lord’s gift with others. Anything is preferable to nothing: love or hate, but don’t ignore; do or don’t do. Decide, commit to one way or the other.

“So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.”-Revelation 3:16.

We must accept who we are, to grow. Don’t second-guess; have faith in the good seed.

“…No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.”-Luke 9:62.

Even when someone isn’t ready to be born again, we still need to plant the seed. If we don’t sow, what does God have to reap? They might not accept your love and compassion, but reject you, perhaps vehemently so.

“They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service.”-John 16:2.

A person doesn’t know love, unless we share it with them. If we share nothing, but ignore their pain (for fear of them causing us pain), then, in the absence of love, they know only hate…and so do we.

We don’t need to actively hate, just not actively love, for hate to result. Without the seed, the field lies barren. This is the difference between faith and fear, just and unjust, good and wicked.

“He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much.”-Luke 16:10.

The servants who used their talents for love were faithful with their work. God rewards a job well done with more glorious work to do.

If we are without faith, then we are fearful; and when we are fearful, we don’t love, only hate. And if we don’t share love, then we reject God’s gift: our talent. And we show ourselves that we aren’t ready for more difficult work, which comes with being born again.

“Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents.”-Matthew 25:28.

If we don’t use our talents, we lose our abilities. No one exists as an island. Run and hide all you want, but someday, you will need someone’s love and compassion. We need each other from birth until death. Our singular talent is insufficient, without sharing it with others.

When we do share love, that is, our interpretation of it, from our personal covenant, and according to our “several ability”: We save everyone, especially ourselves. The only true selfishness is altruism.

Booker T. Washington wrote, “Those who are happiest are those who do the most for others.”

“For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.”-Matthew 25:29.

As an isolated quote, I know that might sound unfair, especially if we’re the one from whom the Lord takes away something.

But look at it this way:

“For unto every one that hath [love and talent] shall be given [or feel greater love and talent], and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not [or doesn’t share love] shall be taken away even that which he hath.”

We know what we did or didn’t do; what we felt, and didn’t express; what God gave us, which we refused to share. So is God unfair, or are we?

“Yet ye say, The way of the Lord is not equal. Hear now, O house of Israel; Is not my way equal? are not your ways unequal?”-Ezekiel 18:25.

God can take away, as well as give. Our talent is our compassion, specifically, the ways in which we feel and share it. When I care for others, especially the loveless and hopeless, I accept myself; when I don’t care, I judge and reject myself.

We can blame this on God. Since the Lord is everything, we’d be somewhat correct in doing so. But God doesn’t straw or sow, we do. The fault is ours; the judgment, on us.

“And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”-Matthew 25:30.

Like Simon-Peter, we are all “fishers of men.” Peter was that way because Jesus was that way, and still is.

“…Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men.”-Mark 1:17.

We throw back the little fish, so they’ll finish growing: That’s what Judgment Day is. Growth hurts. (Ask a teething child.) The revelation of what we haven’t done, in comparison to what we accomplished, can be very painful. It reveals to us what good we’ve done, for ourselves and others, and makes us condemn ourselves for what we haven’t done.

Without God, that is, without love, we weep in darkness. We gnash our teeth in the overwhelming anxiety of finishing Jesus’ work. We’re not alone though: Moses believed he couldn’t save Israel; Jonah believed he couldn’t save Nineveh; and Peter thought he was too sinful to spread the Word and love of God.

“When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”-Luke 5:8.

When the Egyptians pursued the Israelites, trapping them against the Red Sea, God told Moses what Moses then shared with the weeping, former slaves, what still holds true for all of us today.

“The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.”-Exodus 14:14.

Reinforcing hope and faith seems impossible to us little people, who hover on the edge of outer darkness, on the sidelines. But nothing is impossible to God. When we spread the Word by our example, and love one another, we are not alone.

“…I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”-Matthew 28:20.

Jesus is with us, so is Moses, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Booker T. Washington, and everyone everywhere who has ever loved the loveless, and given hope to the hopeless. In love, we are all one body, one universe.

And when we fail, and fall into darkness, do not surrender to your inner adversary. Someone will come along, and offer you support. God will not forsake you.

“…As I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. / …be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee withersoever thou goest.”-Joshua 1:5, 9.

The “outer darkness” is not the end, only the beginning. Even if we surrender to this inner hell, when the great fish swallows us, like Jonah, all we have to do is repent: Accept God’s love; it’s everywhere.

See with new eyes, and hear with new ears. I’ve learned that what I believed were curses, in my life, were great blessings: miracles. God saves us from ourselves, and, through us, saves everyone. Jesus promised to not lose one of us. We will all pass over into the Promised Land, even if we wander through the wilderness for 40 years.

We will find the kingdom of heaven, because it’s inside of us, all around us, in each other, in everything. We can’t miss it!

“Be ye therefore ready also: for the Son of man cometh at an hour when ye think not.”-Luke 12:40.

Stay mindful. The opportunities to use our talent happen suddenly. Like making a left turn in heavy traffic, if we don’t use the precious few seconds, in which we notice someone in pain, then we lose the chance to share love, and stay stalled at the stoplight.

I can’t tell you what your talent is, or how to use it; your talent comes from your personal covenant with God, and all of life. Pray and meditate, commune and hold fellowship with all things. If you open your heart and mind, then God reveals your heart and mind, through the Word and love of Jesus.

The Lord bless and keep you.



Jesus began his ministry with a call to action, and a promise: the standard covenant of Christian life.

“…Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”-Matthew 4:17.

John the Baptist heralded the Lord’s coming with this same message.

“…Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”-Matthew 3:2.

To state their message plainly: Forgive and gain peace.

Without forgiveness, our mind struggles perpetually to obscure our guilt. We fight ourselves, when we don’t forgive ourselves; we fight each other, when we don’t forgive each other. Always fighting, never living.

Remember the forgiveness equation: Understanding + Acceptance = Forgiveness. Understand why someone did something wrong. We don’t have to agree with what they (or we) did. We just have to walk in their moccasins, and then accept it. It’s real. It happened. Accept it.

We all have our own personal covenant. Specifics vary. But that’s the standard for our side of our agreement with life, with God.

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace….”-John 16:33.

Just as God sent Moses to free his people from slavery to Egypt, God sent Jesus to free us from sin. Or, more precisely, Jesus’ teachings promise us that if we forgive, or show mercy, compassion, any form of love, then we gain all aspects of love.

“At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you.”-John 14:20.

One small seed carries within itself the infinite tree of peace of mind. One part contains the blueprint for the whole.

Within that seed lies the kingdom of heaven.

“Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took and sowed in his field.”-Matthew 13:31.

My next-door neighbor, a very kind, widowed, elderly woman, loves puzzles. Her favorites are of 500 pieces. She saves the most beautiful of them-a tabby cat sleeping on a colorful quilt, a waterfall surrounded by a verdant forest, a flower field stretching into the distance-and frames them.

I asked her how she put together something so complicated, requiring so much patience. Her answer, with a wise, mischievous twinkle: “One piece at a time.”

We understand love this way. God reveals His will this way. We realize our potential, our capacity for good, and are reborn, reaching the kingdom of heaven, this way.

The mustard seed grows, from a seemingly insignificant grain, to a three-feet wide, twelve-feet tall tree. One seed, one puzzle piece, one act of good will; one small display of affection, to someone who feels unworthy; one nudge toward hope, for someone teetering on the edge of hopelessness: The seed grows this way.

“Which indeed is the least of all seeds: but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.”-Matthew 13:32.

All things start small: A great basketball player picks up a ball, and awkwardly dribbles it for the first time; a single blade of grass sprouts in a barren field, and heralds a sea of green; a future married couple meets and greets each other, and share a smile that becomes a lifetime; my neighbor chooses one puzzle piece, and places it on her table.

How do these things happen? Faith. Everything takes time. And as we wait, we must have faith.

“What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works? can faith save him?”-James 2:14.

As we wait, and exercise our patience, allowing our faith to guide us, our works determine the fruit of our seeds. The awkward dribbler becomes a great basketball player by learning the game, and practicing it; the single blade of grass becomes the Great Plains with rainfall and good soil; if the future married couple spend their first dates arguing and sneering at each other, they won’t fall in love.

We accomplish faith’s purpose, the miracle of patience, by our works: one dribble at a time, one blade of grass, one smile, one kind act, one puzzle piece at a time.

A watched pot never boils. Why? Because the water boils by God’s will, not ours. Let God’s work be done, but also, we must do what we can to show our love and patience, with understanding and reverence for all.

“For every tree is known by his own fruit. For of thorns men do not gather figs, nor of a bramble bush gather they grapes.”-Luke 6:44.

The journey determines the destination. We might think it’s the other way around, that the destination limits how we get there. But since we don’t know the future, or have any idea where we’re going, and all we have is now, the successive series of now moments determines the result. The tree’s fruit depends on what we plant, and how we care for that which we sowed.

“And the Lord said, If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye might say unto this sycamine tree, Be thou plucked up by the root, and be thou planted in the sea; and it should obey you.”-Luke 17:6.

Faith works the miracle of mindfulness.

The child plays for the love of the game; the single blade of grass cannot control the growth of the field; we enjoy the first date by focusing on nothing else; my neighbor places the second puzzle piece on her table, not bothered that it is unconnected (at the moment) to the first.

Love every moment. That is life. Everything else derives from the nature of our love. In order for our seed to grow, we must allow for, and enable it to grow. The result is that everyone, all the birds of the air, feel our love and patience.

This parable reminds me of one of Daniel’s beautiful dreams.

“Thus were the visions of mine head in my bed; I saw, and behold a tree in the midst of the earth, and the height thereof was great. / The tree grew, and was strong, and the height thereof reached unto heaven, and the sight thereof to the end of all the earth: / The leaves thereof were fair, and the fruit thereof much, and in it was meat for all: the beasts of the field had shadow under it, and the fowls of the heaven dwelt in the boughs thereof, and all flesh was fed of it.”-Daniel 4:10-12.

With forgiveness, we plant the seed in a field made barren by our shame and anger. This is the beginning, which is rebirth, seeing with new eyes.

“And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”-Genesis 1:2.

Our forgiveness gives birth to our faith. With faith, our patience grows.

“In your patience possess ye your souls.”-Luke 21:19.

With patience comes the first dribble, the first blade of grass, the first smile, the first puzzle piece. And with the first step, darkness gives way to light.

“In him was life; and the life was the light of men.”-John 1:4.

When we work with the soil, and the seasons (instead of against nature), accepting the rain, preparing for the famine, the seed sprouts.

“For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.”-James 2:26.

If we sit back and do nothing, our faith dies in its infancy. Only by forgiveness will our seed grow. This is our call to action, our side of the covenant.

“Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”–Revelation 3:20.

With our love, we open the door, keeping our side of the agreement. The rest is glorious, miraculous. Our eyes see the coming of the Lord. Our tree grows. When the birds see how our tree offers sweet life, instead of bitter hatred, they nest in our branches.

When the animals see shade beneath our tree, instead of more heat, more hate, they rest with us. They lower their defenses, and learn to forgive by our example.

“But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and [reverence].”-1 Peter 3:15.

Jesus is our shepherd. And as the sheep of his flock, we shepherd others. This is ministry. This is how we further our works, by showing others that they have the seed to plant their own tree. In this way, they create their covenant with God.

One seed grows more seeds. With each, the process renews itself; we are born again; they are reborn. With every revelation, a new genesis occurs. Another tree sprouts beside ours, and another, until the field no longer lies barren, but shines with the light of life.

“And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away….”-Revelation 21:1.

Our trees grow exponentially until all are of one root, one canopy. This is the great tree Daniel dreamed of, what Jesus promised. This is God’s part of our covenant.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”-Revelation 21:4.

This is what born again means. And all it takes is one small seed.

Plant yours today. Forgive. Have faith. Spread the word through your actions. Keep your side of the bargain, and God will keep His.

Mindfulness of God: Blessings

These essays record my studies of the Gospels. The intention is to remind myself, and anyone who is blessed enough to read this, what Jesus did, and what he said: the parables and the miracles. Along the way, in these bonus essays, I share my personal progress in interpreting how to live by his example.

“For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.”—John 13:15.

The way he treated us is the way that we should treat each other: This is the first fundamental precept in my studies. Whatever else Jesus was—the Son of God, the Son of Man, the way, the truth, and the light, and/or the Word of God—he was meant to be an example.

I set aside all definitions, except for this one that he told us himself, as I practice mindfulness.

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”—Matthew 6:34.

Mindfulness is a way of staying in the present. It is a goal that Christianity shares with many other religions and spiritual practices. The theory is that if you stay focused on what’s happening right now, then you won’t suffer fear for the future, or doubt from your past. I have been attempting this state of mind by using lessons from the Gospels.

My first step was to forgive every sin, as it happened.

“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: / But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”—Matthew 6:14-15.

If we don’t forgive, then our sins go unforgiven. Further, sins fester when we don’t release them. I can’t be happy with the weight. So I attempted to forgive every sin, as it happened.

I never realized how much other people bugged me, especially in traffic. Lord, all I needed to complete this study was to take a drive. I’m sure you know what I mean. People are crazy out there, behind their steering wheels. Their actions are selfish, as if by necessity, violent, provocative, and threatening.

If you’ll pardon the joke, I’m pretty sure that “the valley of the shadow of death” was a prophecy about highways, and how we are seduced into sin just to keep up with the flow of traffic.

I was in a state of constant forgiveness while driving around, especially when I realized that I was judging them, and that I needed to be forgiven.

That was my second step. I forgave them, then myself, over and over.

No matter what someone else does, we are responsible for how we react.

“And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye? / …Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy brother’s eye.”—Luke 6:41-42.

All of this kept me in the present, mindful of God.

God is always there, no matter where we are.

“The Lord hath made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked for the day of evil.”—Proverbs 16:4.

He made everything and exists as everything.

“Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”—Luke 17:21.

This is my second fundamental precept: Heaven is within you.

It’s blasphemous to hate someone when you consider that God is with them. Instead, I want to bless God, because God has blessed me. This led me to my third step in mindfulness, which was to bless everyone.

“…Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. / Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.”—Luke 18:16-17.

I wanted to understand how to be reborn, as taught in the Gospels, because that is how you get to Heaven. I began by blessing children and their families.

“Honour thy father and thy mother: and, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”—Matthew 19:19.

This led to me blessing the elderly, who are the fathers and mothers. Jesus taught us how to love our neighbors. He gave us a step-by-step process for how we can reach Heaven. I put this into practice because, frankly, I have a tough time loving my sinful neighbors. And since I’m sinful, I can hardly love myself either.

By blessing someone, what do I mean?

It’s kind of like when someone sneezes and you say, “Bless you.” Their heart skipped a beat, as they sneezed, and you’re just wishing them well. A blessing is a little stronger than saying good luck. If we were to alter that phrase to be a blessing, we might say, “I wish you the best of luck possible; stay well and strong, and have compassion for others, as I have had compassion for you.”

The point is that if I’m going to get involved in someone’s life by judging them, or forgiving them, then, instead, I can choose to trust in God, have faith in the Heaven within that person.

“And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed.”—Genesis 12:3.

That was God’s original covenant with Abraham, the one that Jesus renewed with his blood.

“For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.”—Matthew 26:28.

By blessing others, we are blessed; and by cursing others, we are cursed. It’s your choice.

So now I stay in the present by blessing children, the elderly, and, the most recent addition, all animals.

Children and animals live in the present. Sure, they want food or affection, and “hunt” with a future feast in mind. But they remain focused on the present moment as they do so—ready to pounce or run away.

Jesus loves the little children, and the animals love Jesus.

“He came unto his own, and his own received him not.”—John 1:11.

Rejection is an important component of Jesus’ story.

“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”—Luke 2:7.

There was no room for him in our hearts. We rejected him, and killed him so that we could remain in the dark.

“For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved.”—John 3:20.

We’re addicted to sin. But the animals in the manger didn’t mind him spending the night with them.

This is an important point. There is something about animals that allowed them to accept him. They remind me of what Jesus said about children: “…of such is the kingdom of God.” By blessing what is God’s, we accept God. But to accept God’s will, we must come into the light.

Jesus is the light, or, more specifically, his lessons light the way. His story is an example for how we can bless and comfort one another.

“He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.”—1 John 4:8.

This is the third fundamental precept in these essays: God is love.

All of my other theories and deductions must fit with these three fundamentals: Jesus is an example; Heaven is within you; and God is love.

With that as my starting point, my studies of the Gospels became a prayer for us human beings. It’s all about us, how we can learn to get along, and find peace and dignity within ourselves, by treating each other with the same compassion that Jesus showed to us.

This takes practice.

“God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”—John 4:24.

To worship in spirit and truth, we must be in a mindful state, focused on the kingdom of Heaven that is within all things. We are alive, right here and now, and so is God.

“For he is not a God of the dead, but of the living: for all live unto him.”—Luke 20:38.

To that end, I’ve followed these three steps to keep myself in the present: forgive others when they sin; forgive myself when I sin; and bless everyone. My goal is to keep God in my heart, to keep love in my heart at all times.

“And he that sent me is with me: the Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him.”—John 8:29.

I feel that by following those three steps, I am pleasing God. And when I do that, God is with me. When God is with me, I have love in my heart.

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”—John 16:33.

We don’t have to overcome the world; Jesus did it. We don’t have to judge anyone; Jesus does it.

“For the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son.”—John 5:22.

We don’t have to take revenge, an eye for an eye. God does that.

“It is mine to avenge; I will repay.”—Hebrews 10:30.

All we have to do is be who we are, and allow others the same, and forgive ourselves for being who we are, while allowing others the same: easier prayed than done.

Sin comes no matter how prepared we are. It is our nature, our cross to carry, that we slip into selfishness, or hate groups of people, so that we can feel loved by our own group. Every action has a potential sin attached; each and every thought can lead to darkness. We lack the instinctive toolset for balancing our animal urges and the growing complexity of our society. We can’t cure this disease.

All we can do is accept it: release the need to make the universe bend to our will, and, instead, bend our will to the universe. This takes practice. Stay mindful. Replace judgments with blessings. Be thankful for each and every moment, no matter how bad or painful, joyous or rapturous. It is all of God, made by the connection we all have to each other, as we walk through the valley, terrified of death, and hopeful of forgiveness.

The connection is that we all love, and sin, and need constant, automatic forgiveness, which we can only attain by forgiving others. This is the definition of love as taught by Jesus in the Gospels. If you can see this, understand it, and are willing to attempt it in practice, then you are ready to be reborn.

Spread the Word

The dual metaphor of shepherd and sheep is present throughout the Old Testament: Noah, two-by-two; God leading Abraham—who, in turn, led God’s people; Moses and the Exodus; God inspiring prophets, who inspired people. In Jesus’ story, the image is even more pronounced.

“I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.”—John 10:11.

He was a shepherd one moment, and sheep the next.

“…Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”—John 1:29.

We are also both shepherd and sheep. We maintain our faith by watching over each other.

Shepherds were the first to spread the word about Christ in the New Testament.

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.”—Luke 2:8.

Yes, those shepherds (who shared a vision of an angelic choir and followed a new star) were the first to not only witness his birth, but to tell his story.

“And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. / And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. / And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.”—Luke 2:16-18.

I see those shepherds as quintessential, a template for ministers. While everyone else slept, they kept watch: patient, humble, their eyes and ears open.

You never know when predators will attack your sheep.

“…I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee.”—Revelation 3:3.

Since we can’t stay awake all the time, we need to watch over each other, sleep in shifts, so to speak: shepherds one moment, sheep the next.

In the early days of his ministry, between his rejection at Nazareth and the death of John the Baptist, Jesus decided it was time for his apostles to get more involved. We can’t just follow; we have to lead as well.

“And he called unto him the twelve, and began to send them forth by two and two; and gave them power over unclean spirits.”—Mark 6:7.

As Noah gathered the animals two-by-two, so Jesus sent out his students. The Bible doesn’t say who went with whom. I wonder who accompanied Judas. I love the idea that they went together. Companionship would make the trip safer and not so lonely.

Though the Gospels of Matthew and Luke agreed with each other on the details of this story, Mark offered some exceptions; and John left it out entirely. For example, Mark was the only one to mention how the apostles went off in pairs.

“And when he had called unto him his twelve disciples, he gave them power against unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness and all manner of disease.”—Matthew 10:1.

Where it’s written in Mark that Jesus gave them “power over unclean spirits,” Matthew and Luke added the curing of sickness and disease. Jesus gave them the power to do everything he had done. In that way, one became twelve.

How exciting for a student to become the teacher. And how scary! The call to minister comes out of the blue.

Peter and his brother Andrew got a little warning.

“And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”—Matthew 4:19.

Matthew (the tax collector) got a simple “Follow me.”—Luke 5:27.

The text doesn’t indicate if Jesus said anything at all to the other apostles when he recruited them.

“…he saw other two brethren, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in a ship with Zebedee their father, mending their nets; and he called them. / And they immediately left the ship and their father, and followed him.”—Matthew 4:21-22.

If they thought that they could just follow, and not be shepherds themselves, then this assignment must’ve been really scary. But Jesus instructed them.

“…Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not. / But go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”—Matthew 10:5-6.

In time this would change. The Jewish authorities rejected him, and were conspiring to kill him. So the Gospel would go to the Gentiles. And with parables like “The Good Samaritan,” Christianity would call for a truce between the Jews and the Samaritans.

“And [Peter] said unto them, Ye know how that it is an unlawful thing for a man that is a Jew to keep company, or come unto one of another nation; but God hath shewed me that I should not call any man common or unclean.”—The Acts 10:28.

The lost were a top priority for Jesus.

“For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost.”—Matthew 18:11.

Mark and Luke both skipped over that detail. They also missed what is, arguably, the main message of Jesus’ early ministry.

“And as ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand.”—Matthew 10:7.

Before the New Testament, heaven was a vague concept. Always lower case, its plural form was a synonym for sky or firmament.

“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou has ordained….”—Psalms 8:3.

In the singular, heaven was where God lived.

“And the Lord said unto Moses, Thus thou shalt say unto the children of Israel, Ye have seen that I have talked with you from heaven.”—Exodus 20:22.

And that’s about all there was to it. Therefore, any preaching about the details of heaven caught everyone’s attention. That was how John the Baptist started.

“In those days came John the Baptist, preaching in the wilderness of Judaea, / And saying, Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”—Matthew 3:1-2.

And Jesus too:

“From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”—Matthew 4:17.

It was a daring, new message. After all, God lived in heaven. Jesus told his apostles to preach that God’s kingdom had arrived, which meant God must not be far behind. That’s inspiring, or blasphemous, depending on who you asked.

Next, he told his apostles what they could and couldn’t bring with them as they preached.

“Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses, / Nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves: for the workman is worthy of his meat.”—Matthew 10:9-10.

(Scrip was a small shepherd’s pack.)

In Matthew, they weren’t allowed to carry anything, except for one coat. I’m reminded of “The Rich Young Ruler.” Jesus told him to sell everything he owned, give all his money to the poor, and become a disciple. In essence, we are asked to surrender what we think we need, to get what we really need.

Mark was not quite so harsh.

“And commanded them that they should take nothing for their journey, save a staff only; no scrip, no bread, no money in their purse: / But be shod with sandals; and not put on two coats.”—Mark 6:8-9.

They got to carry a staff and wear sandals. It’s hard for me to imagine them any other way, but apparently sandals and staves were luxury items. Regardless of the particulars, the imagery is clear.

“For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.”—Matthew 16:25.

To do to others as I would have them do to me, I can no longer think in terms of me: spending my time pursuing what I want. I can’t serve both my interests and God’s. My treasure is where my heart is. If my heart cares only for me, then I am all that I will have.

“And into whatsoever city or town ye shall enter, inquire who in it is worthy; and there abide till ye go thence. / And when ye come into an house, salute it. / And if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it: but if it be not worthy, let your peace return to you.”—Matthew 10:11-13.

In every new town, they stayed with a different family; but while in that town, they’d sleep and eat with that one family. What a great way to minister! You could talk late into the night, help them with cooking and cleaning. They would be your family, for a while.

While studying this passage, I got into the habit of blessing (praying or wishing kindness and happiness for) every road I drove on, every building I entered, and every sign I saw that I knew others would see. I prayed that everyone who encountered those objects would feel lifted up, that they would discover something new and exciting about their lives.

Everywhere I went, I blessed what was there. I didn’t say anything or make any gestures.

“But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: / That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.”—Matthew 6:3-4.

God knows our hearts. We don’t pray so much for God, but to feel the connection, the love between us and the world. Prayer anchors us in the moment, which is where love exists. Sin is always in the past or future.

Sometimes, we just can’t reach people: One or both of us could be blind to the connection, deaf to any word of comfort. Maybe it’s not time; maybe I’m not the person to help them; or maybe I need to tend to myself.

“And whosoever will not receive you, when ye go out of that city, shake off the very dust from your feet for a testimony against them.”—Luke 9:5.

I love that saying. It reminds me of baseball, kicking dirt on the umpire. Remember, from “Tell No One,” a minister is not there to convert, but to comfort. If we can’t help, then we must realize and accept God’s will. We have to let go of our desire to save them, wash our hands, and dust off our feet.

We have to be willing, above all else, to let people live as they choose.

In Matthew and Mark, Jesus had more to say about those who rejected his apostles.

“And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust of your feet. / Verily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrha in the day of judgment, than for that city.”—Matthew 10:14-15.

In these pages, I’ve written about a practical understanding of Judgment Day: a time of self-judgment. We have to come to terms with our actions, even though we know not what we do. When we reject someone who wants to be our shepherd, or refuse to be a sheep or shepherd when the situation calls for it, we have to live with the consequences.

“Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.”—Matthew 10:16.

That is such a beautiful verse: the core of Christianity. Jesus (the shepherd) sends out his sheep to gather the lost sheep; and, along the way, his sheep become shepherds for the lost sheep, while remaining harmless against the wolves of the world. The sheep need faith, and the shepherd teaches them.

The reason why it’s so hard to have faith in someone is that we have to make ourselves vulnerable to them. We have to be willing to lay down our lives, to raise theirs out of sin, or make them feel loved. Faith is always a leap with two concerned parties: the one who leaps, and the one who catches them. So, when we leap, we need faith in ourselves, and faith in those who catch us. And we leap all the time.

That’s a lot of faith; it’s exhausting! That’s how and why we sin. We get tired. We have to be ready for whatever our situation asks of us: sheep or shepherd, disciples one moment, teachers the next.

How do I make that call? How do I know when to switch? Better yet, how do I know what to say?

“…take no thought how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak. / For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you.”—Matthew 10:19-20.

A few years ago, I volunteered in a Kindergarten classroom. I didn’t know what to say to such young children. I was afraid that I’d upset them, or talk over their heads and confuse them.

So, every day, I prayed that God would speak for me—or, at the very least, guide my speech, actions, facial expressions, you name it. And they loved me. We had a great time.

The simplest way to know if you’re following God’s will is to love and forgive everyone.

“A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.”—John 13:35.

Before I do something, I (try to) ask myself if I’m showing love, or am I only interested in what I might get out of the exchange. If I’m showing love, then I am doing God’s will.

Sending out the twelve worked so well that Jesus called on an additional seventy disciples to stand up and spread the word.

“After these things the Lord appointed other seventy also, and sent them two and two before his face into every city and place, whither he himself would come.”—Luke 10:1.

Vulnerable one moment, protective the next, we love and identify with both extremes because we have been both. When we lift someone, after catching them in their leap of faith, we are lifted in return. Faith happens in pairs, two-by-two. We don’t need to be paid back personally. Joy is what lifts us in return; the rapture of connection causes the singular person to vanish, leaving the pair as one kingdom in a heavenly state.

In this way, the one becomes two, twelve, and seventy. Every life we touch, touches others. How we interact becomes a huge responsibility. Will we comfort or convert? That is, respectively, will we allow God to speak through us, or let our ego be what we choose to pass along to the rest of the world?

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”—John 16:33.

With all the talk of devils and hell, sin and responsibility, we might forget the main reason for the Gospels, which is peace. We have to remind ourselves to live in the moment, to love the moment. Have faith that tomorrow will take care of itself. Being mindful of God helps: Bless and be thankful for everything and everyone. That will keep you in the present, with your eyes and ears open to what the situation calls for: shepherd or sheep, when to dust off your feet, and when to comfort.

It’s your choice, in the end, whether to spread the word or despise the kingdom of heaven that is within. And it’s their choice to hear your words, accept you as a shepherd, or reject you.

“He that heareth you heareth me; and he that despiseth you despiseth me; and he that despiseth me despiseth him that sent me.”—Luke 10:16.

By interacting with each other, we pass along a potential for connection that affects more lives than we can imagine. We can choose to share peace of mind through comfort and understanding. Or we can reject the responsibility we have to each other, to ourselves. What we do to our neighbors, we do to God. And whatever we do to God, we do to ourselves.

The Tower and the King

Imagine yourself back in the time of the gospels. You walk beside the Sea of Galilee—all is wide-open green, brown, and blue—and you listen to stories that promote love and forgiveness above all else. And then, the man who calls himself the Son of Man, the one who speaks to you only in parables, says this:

“If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.”—Luke 14:26.

The murmurs would surely wake those who were dozing in the back, staring dreamily across the sea. Everyone would be asking, what did he just say?

My term for this teaching technique is “shock therapy.” Sometimes I’ll learn things incorrectly: bad postulates, faulty assumptions, thinking with my ego instead of my heart, or my heart instead of my brain. Whether correct or not, I’ll hold onto my beliefs because they are mine. And I won’t compromise even if it means the heavens fall. This is the point when shock therapy becomes necessary.

“For this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.”—Matthew 13:15.

Jesus was an ace at performing shock therapy, a real showman.

‘And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, / And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.”—Matthew 21:12-13.

He walked on water, turned water into wine, resurrected Lazarus (and himself); he smashed up the exchange tables in the temple, threatened to destroy the temple, and on, and on.

When we are shocked, we’re scared, vulnerable…like children.

“Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.”—Luke 18:17.

Before the crowd by the sea could murmur for too long, Jesus launched into the first of two back-to-back parables.

Parable of the Tower:
“For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? / Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, / Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.”—Luke 14:28-30.

One minute the crowd is wondering why they should hate their mother and father, and how that’s against the fifth commandment (Exodus 20:12), which Jesus mentioned as essential to the Rich Young Ruler: “Honor thy father and thy mother….”—Matthew 19:19.

The next minute, they’re in a hypothetical scenario, wondering what it means to be able to afford to accomplish their goals. Do I have enough money to build the tower, hire the contractors and engineers? If I do, fine; if I don’t, then where (or from whom) can I get the cash?

Before going too far with any interpretation, I want to skip ahead, so that we know the point of these parables. Jesus didn’t often spell out his parables to his followers. So this is a key note moment.

“So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.”—Luke 14:33.

If you’ll remember, that was the high price the Rich Young Ruler couldn’t afford: surrendering everything. This is probably the most important lesson Jesus taught, symbolized by his death on the cross. It is the first commandment.

“Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”—Exodus 20:3.

While that could be interpreted literally, no graven images, we can also think of it as putting nothing before God. On the list of all the important things in our lives, God is (or should be) number one. That means our parents would come after God; even our own lives are not as important.

“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”—Matthew 6:24.

Mammon is the way of the world. It is material greed, something that Jesus warned against.

“And he said unto [the Pharisees], Ye are they which justify yourselves before men; but God knoweth your hearts: for that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God.”—Luke 16:15.

My greed and lust for things in this world are abominations because they are just for me, not God; Mammon is the love of my will, and not God’s. That’s how you can tell whether or not a choice follows God’s will. If it benefits only you, then it is not God’s will, but yours.

I think of my will as the currency to build my tower. I want to look out over the world, and understand, and appreciate, and grow wiser from the effort, so that I can teach the path to others who are lost. But do I have enough in the bank to afford my dream? Since my dream is my whole life, I would certainly surrender everything I have now, in exchange for what I want later…eventually, once the tower is finished.

“And he that sent me is with me: the Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him.”—John 8:29.

I don’t have to build my tower on my own. I’d probably go bankrupt, get all stressed out. I should have a partner. And if that partner knows how to build the whole thing, and wants to design it in the most perfect way possible, why not surrender my pride and ego, and accept this as a wonderful gift?

Parable of the King:
“Or what king, going to make war against another king, sitteth not down first, and consulteth whether he be able with ten thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand? / Or else, while the other is yet a great way off, he sendeth an ambassage, and desireth conditions of peace.”—Luke 14:31-32.

While the first parable asked if we had enough funds to afford the tower, this one tells us that we do not. It’s a lost cause; we can’t overcome the sins of the world, not without sinning ourselves.

“Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me. / These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”—John 16:32-33.

We don’t have enough men, so to speak. We cannot accomplish the Golden Rule on our own. When I have tried, the result was twisted into this: Do unto others as they have done unto you. I have to look out for myself first, right?

No, actually, I fell into that trap for years. By looking after myself, I never had enough time or energy for anyone else.

“But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. / Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”—Matthew 6:33-34.

God looks after us. This frees us to look after each other. And so I have come to the most shocking idea of all: How do I let my will become God’s?

“Jesus said unto [the Rich Young Ruler], If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me.”—Matthew 19:21.

Could a person really do this? I think of Pope Francis, and I know that we can. Why don’t we live more by God’s will? I know that we all have our good moments, but we have bad ones too.

When I consider surrendering my life to God’s will, I remember the definition for God that I’ve used in all these essays.

“Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. / He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.”—I John 4:7-8.

In trying to understand what love was, I realized it was God. And God is inside each and every one of us.

“…The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: / Neither shall they say, Lo here! Or, lo there! For, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”—Luke 17:20-21.

Love connects us: By loving one another, we love God, who loves us in return. Whatever we do to one another, we are doing that to God.

“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: / But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”—Matthew 6:14-15.

“…Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”—Matthew 25:40.

Therefore, I’d be surrendering myself to the love that connects all things. I can do it through mindfulness meditation: avoiding choices that are done for me alone, or for destructive purposes, and instead focus on what will improve the lives of others. I don’t mean to imply that I’ll refuse to eat or sleep. Quite the contrary: I’ll stop smoking. Cold Turkey.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”—Psalm 23:4.

It won’t be just my willpower against those cigarettes, but God’s. What would be impossible for me, will be easy for God.

“And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. / When his disciples heard it, they were amazed, saying, Who then can be saved? / But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.”—Matthew 19:24-26.

I told you that story so I could tell you this one.

My New Year’s resolution is to surrender myself to God’s will. All of my choices will be based on the Golden Rule. Even if the heavens fall, and I doubt they will—It’ll be party time!—I promise to stick to this, and see where it takes me. What’s the worst that could happen? What’s the best that could happen?

I choose the leap of faith. I invite everyone who reads this to consider the difference between your will, and God’s. Note the choices you make and why (or for whom). Ask yourself if you can accomplish your goals on your own. Count your men. And if you can’t overcome the world, there is a way you can. But you’ll have to surrender the life you thought you wanted, for the life that is waiting.

Back in the time of the gospels, this was what it took to become Jesus’ disciple. (Don’t confuse the term disciple with apostles, of which there were only twelve.) It’s the same choice today. We are still walking thoughtfully by the Sea of Galilee, pondering whether or not it would be better to surrender all that we have for all that we want.