W.W.J.D.

If you´re somewhat acquainted with christian affairs I´m sure you´ve bumped into four letters, W.W.J.D., the abbreviation of “What Would Jesus Do?” Now, that´s a good question. But there´s a better question (handily fitting the same abbreviation): “What Will Jesus Do?”

Why is that better? Because the body of Christ is us, we´re supposed to, called upon, to do His work in this world we live in. Together, that is. The idea is, for anyone taking a look at the Church, they should get a pretty clear picture of what Jesus Christ is all about, between Jesus and his church there should be a striking likeness. So at the end of the day, maybe I should be able to say: “Now that was a Christ-like day!”

Has this ever happened? Nope. Not one single day of my life have I been able to say such a thing, for I´m not completely ruthless with the truth, you know. Then again, neither was a toenail on Jesus feet quite the same thing as the man himself. The point is that the toenail should be a toenail every day of the week, in every particle, and should be quite proud of being a toenail on the feet of the Lord. Ultimately, it´s all about it being Jesus toenail. There´s some degree of comfort in this, though I´m not quite sure what I´m supposed to be or where I fit in on Corpus Christi. At times I seem more busy sawing myself off that body than anything else, but there´s little point in telling you about such things.

Back to the big picture. Is the Church a good image of Christ these days? No. And hard to say any time and place there this has been so. In a particular city hit by spiritual awakening, in a specially blessed monastery, a holy hermit´s cave, some of that glory reflected, but otherwise so much of hipocrisy and self-anointment. So much uglyness.

But there is one instance where the image of Christ and Church match somewhat, where at least I can see the resemblance. We´re in the garden of Gethsemane with Jesus (Matthew 26 and Mark 14, please do read it!). Where we truly share his agony, and I dare say victory. Abandoned, struggling, fearing. Yet refusing to bow under the pressure, trusting in our good Father and putting it all in his hands. This is being done everywhere and in every time in the church of Christ, a prayer never silenced in even the most corrupt parts of the spiritual enterprise we´re never sure whether to call Zion or Babylon, the Church. We´re in the garden. W.W.J.D.?

Pray. And persevere.


PS. There´s this line in a Swedish psalm that goes roughly: “He entered your struggle on earth.” That is Christ entering your struggle. But it could equally justified be said that we enter into Christ´s struggle on earth, or in Gethsemane. There is this together-ness in the church which we need, and shall need. There be some that imagine themselves powerful enough to cope being christians without the aid of the church. That can only be because they have not entered that struggle, for it is one where together-ness is our supreme weapon. Together in Gethsemane, with the Father, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, Peter, James and John, all the saints, and the not-so-holy but still redeemed. It can seem like a lonely place, but that´s just because we´re huddled up so close together it´s hard to tell where I stop and the other begin. And finally, how do I go about becoming a part of all this? By becoming a member, sharing in that together-ness. And letting no one tell you that it´s just a social club. We´re the body of Christ.

2007 – a somewhat new yet vaguely familiar year

Me thinks next year will be one of spontaneous singing and humming, regardless the circumstances and consequences. A happy new year and now bring us some figgy pudding. Or this little gem from the red, red lips of Doris Day:

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be pretty, will I be rich
Here's what she said to me.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

When I was young, I fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead
Will we have rainbows, day after day
Here's what my sweetheart said.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Now I have children of my own
They ask their mother, what will I be
Will I be handsome, will I be rich
I tell them tenderly.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Joy is a good word for the year of our Lord, 2007. Oh, they´ll murder and rape and steal and lie, like every other year since Adam and Eve adopted a new father and left their old one behind. But for me, 2007 will be the year of the Lord. Hands off, get thee behind me, whoever tries to steal it away from Him.

The future's not ours, to see

I don´t know what´s in the sack for the next year, good things, bad things, but I know who´s giving it to me, and that´s what counts. It´s not in the gift, but in the giver, and me being the given.

Whatever will be, will be

I´ll try to keep my calendar white as a virgin next year. Oh, it´ll fill up of course, but let´s pray, with less of mine and more of His this time around.

Que Sera, Sera

I don´t want to be famous next year. I don´t want to get rich, I don´t want to be brilliant, neither amusing nor witty. I want to be just the person God so loved, so valued that it was worth every and any sacrifice. I want to understand next year, whatever Christ saw in me and saw in you and saw in God to do that with me, you and God. And if that´s one “why” too many for a feeble little year, a mere 365 days of it, then learn me to obey and do what love commands anyway.

I tell them tenderly

I´ll sport less next year. Don´t like hamstrings, they make me walk funny.

Will we have rainbows, day after day

I already know my work matters, I´ll work with understanding my life matters too, and living it as if that´s a fact. That it´s a matter of fact.

Will I be handsome, will I be rich

Less of fun, excitement and self fulfillment next year. Hail, blissful boredom!

What will be, will be

I´m no one in particular. Just completely freaking unique.

When I was young, I fell in love

If, perchance, I´d accidentally fall in love with someone, it´ll be with her and no one else. If, if such miracles do occur in our time, she´d happen to fall in love with me, it´ll be with me and no one else. Or else, let be.

Que Sera

Every time has a purpose. There´s a time for everything under the sun. There´s the great Filofax in the sky. Little need then for me to organize every moment in the calendar of my own. Next year, look out! I´ll guard the blanks in my calendar with my life. They´re not mine, they´re not yours, they´re divine property.

The future's not ours

I won´t pray just for the sake of praying, or read Bible just on account of reading Bible. It´s quality time with the Lord. But if it comes to that, I´ll pray just for praying and read Bible just for reading Bible. It´s time with the Lord.

Whatever will be

Every new year need have a slogan. Mine is: Relax! You´re in the service of a good Lord.

Will be

I will not read twenty volumes of Kierkegaards collected works next year. I´m not an intellectual project, you know, or a librarian´s wet dream. I do hope to hug at least twenty people for next year, I´m a human being, being human we do together.

When I was young

I utterly refuse to learn any new languages for this year, Inshallah...

Here's what my sweetheart said

I´ll write more love poems next year, and less essays on theology. Maybe even some of those loving poems won´t be exclusively to God, but who have need for such distictions?

Sera!