In, but Not Of

We are told to live in the world but be not of it.

Sounds like symantics to me. At least, that's what I thought the first few times I heard it. Then, I ignored or forgot it for years. The next time I heard it, it was from someone trying to sell me something. And then again, I heard it from a preacher who was able to make sense of it - Father Robert DeNiro.

Heat is not a movie I'd recommend to someone trying to avoid violence and four letter words. But, DeNiro's character, a professional heist orchestrator, preaches to a career larcenist played by Val Kilmer, to never get attached to something or someone "you can't walk out on in 30 seconds if the heat comes down."

Christians believe in a god, God, who desires their undivided attention. His enemy seeks to divide their attention. If we realize that we live in a temporary world, we must acknowledge that some day we'll be freed from math class (the adding up of dollars and accomplishments) and given an eternal recess/gym class/lunch, where we'll get to be with an interesting, vibrant, exciting god for ev er.

But, if Christ's claims are true, the Bible is authentic, and you were the CEO of hell, you'd know that those who Christianity states have been "adopted as God's children" are impossible to take away, wouldn't you at least try to distract them from Him for the 70 years you can?

God's call that we should not love the stuff that so often owns us is not unlike DeNiro's warning to Kilmer, not unlike refusing to leave math class. What if the Bible is true? What if God really knows better than all we could ever know? What if there is something sinister in loving our stuff that takes away from the experiential richness that could exist in our lives, our relationships, our souls?

I have set goals this year for what I intend to accomplish. My New Year's resolutions are written down and will be read monthly, updated quarterly, and accomplished with God's grace and my effort. But, what if we all wrote down the things we intend, vow not to do this year?

"I don't need another payment. I don't need a new computer. I'm going to intentionally choose not to buy x, y, and z."

Is it possible that in filling this command, by setting high and lofty goals, leaving them to the work of our hands and the favor of God, and guarding ourselves against the stuff that so silently weighs us down, we may set ourselves free from what we thought was freedom, and truly discover what freedom really means?

Again, I could be nuts, but at least these chips are out on the table.