Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Stark Truth?

Today our Bible team was critiquing objectives to send to our curriculum writer. We were examining the Word to see what lessons it held. The parable of the wise virgins. The parable of the talents. The final judgement. Three lessons in one chapter of Matthew. Separate yet connected. The wise virgins whose oil could not be shared with those who had none because no human can give another person the Holy Spirit or a relationship with God. Each person is responsible for working out his own salvation, for buying his own oil.

And every person is given talents to use as desired. Some have more than others. But all have some. Enough with which to serve God. To produce fruit. The result of using one's gifts is that more is given along with the privilege of entering the joy of our Master. The consequence of hiding one's talent, of being slothful is to be cast into outer darkness.

On the heels of the parable of the talents, Christ tells about the separation when world will be judged. The criteria for inheriting the kingdom of heaven is feeding the hungry, giving those who thirst a drink, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and those in prison. "If you do these to the least of these my brothers, you do it unto Me." Concise, clear statements.

The Bible scholar on our team said that, unlike Luke, Matthew connected his parables. That there is a continuation of thought. So I am pondering: is developing a relationship with God (getting oil for our lamp) the impetus needed for developing/using our gifts to their full capacity? Does using our talents mean doing those things that are required for inheriting the kingdom of heaven? If so, it's pretty black and white.

Owning Thoughts

Recently a friend was talking about not understanding the blindness of a certain group of people and their viewpoints. Wondering why thinking people thought the things they did. And why she couldn't get it; wondering what they saw that she didn't. My response was that when one's parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. espouse certain views, you develop a way of thinking that is difficult to change even when you want to. Where do our thoughts and the thoughts of our "great cloud of witnesses" begin and end? Which of our thoughts do we own? Which ones belong to our friends, our family, our co-workers, the authors we read? How much of what we think rises from within? How much from without? Are they a collage of all we've ever learned? A composite whole of who we are that changes daily, hourly as we imbibe from life's chalice.