Did Jesus Dream?

My brain seems to have its own source of boundless energy. The more I try to coax it into rest, the more I attempt to cease thinking, the more it rebels with the stubborn will that only choice three-year-olds possess. It can be exhausting at times. Regardless, I'm often grateful for the strange thoughts that stealthily weave themselves into my mental meanderings...

See, I'm convinced that my mind and my thoughts are no longer my own.

I know that sounds more than a little strange at first. At second glance, you may even wonder if you should recommend a psychiatrist. I'm not crazy, though... at least, not like that! I merely believe that the Bible truly is God's word, and that God's word is true. If I believe that, then I must believe this:

"For who has known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ."

That's a heavy statement, and yet it's gloriously beautiful. I have the mind of Christ? I certainly don't understand that. I do believe it, though, and I'm convinced that this "mind of Christ," given by the Spirit (see the rest of I Cor. 2), works in and through me on a daily basis, even when I'm unaware of it.

At work tonight, I was doing menial tasks in the kitchen when one particular phrase in a radio song jumped out at me: "...Even heroes deserve to dream." I don't know why I heard that sentence; I hadn't even been listening to the music. I did hear it, though, and a question immediately surfaced in my mind: did Jesus dream?

I've been pondering that question ever since that moment, but it has, like so many of my thoughts, metamorphosed into many ideas. I have far more questions now than I did earlier, and thus far fewer answers... I do have imaginations and wonderings and awe, though.

That one question, "Did Jesus dream," has brought me (so far, anyhow) to this realization: I don't give Jesus nearly enough credit for having been human. I believe that he was. In fact, I believe that he was simultaneously fully God and fully man. I have learned about various doctrines and beliefs of the incarnation since I was a child; I have known of Christ's humanity. I have never comphrehended it.

I still don't comprehend it. How can I when, as of yet, all the mental images I have of Jesus are of him sitting in grassy meadows or on calm, glassy seas wearing his spotless white robe and blue sash? It's a ridiculous portrait, really. He was a carpenter's son. Carpenter's sons simply don't have spotless clothes (have your ever met a carpenter?), and I'm quite sure they didn't accessorize with nicely color-complementing accessories.

Jesus was an infant once. He was born in the same way that all human children are born: he inflicted severe pain on his mother, and he probably had the same red-wrinkled face and helpless wail that all newborns do. He was raised as every child is; he had to learn as every child does (yet, somehow, without sin...).

It is this boy-Jesus that so intrigues me. When he was very young (say, five years old, or even eight or nine), did he comprehend that he was the son of the one true God? Did he fully comprehend his nature, his power, his utter being? Did he first and always dream of reuniting the world with himself, his Father, and the Spirit, or did he dream of growing up to become a carpenter, like his father Joseph? From the first real insight we're given into his boyhood (when he's left at the temple in Jerusalem for three days), it seems that his focus was merely to be with his Father -- in the place where his Father resided. The closest he could then get to heaven on this earth, I suppose, was the temple. Even with that ultimate desire, though, did he understand and desire to fulfill his "mission," or did God allow his life dreams to change throughout the course of his life?

And what of those other sorts of dreams? When Jesus laid his head down at night, did he dream of daily, mundane interactions, or was his head filled with images of the other-worldly, the ethereal (that is, the truly real), the beautiful? Did he see the Father and Spirit in his dreams, spending hours of blissful community with them, or did he longingly dream of returning to them? Did he dream of the kingdom as it was created to be, as it will be in the quickly coming future?

Did he dream of us?

I don't know, of course. I don't think that these questions meant to be answered. All I know is that they've set me thinking:

Who is this Jesus that I love, worship, and follow? I know much about him, but I am constantly reminded that I know him very little. I do have insight into his mind, though -- I am claimed by him, and his Spirit lives in me. I can only hope and pray that the more I grow to know him through this and through his word, the more I will know what it is to have the mind of Christ...

And maybe I'll learn to dream the way He did.

Father's Day

Ah, Father's Day: the holiday that no one is quite sure how to celebrate.

Why is it that it's so hard for us to find ways to show appreciation for our dads? Maybe I'm overgeneralizing... I know that I'm always stumped, though. Gift-giving is near to impossible. My dad himself hardly ever has a wish-list (or even a single wish), so it's hard for me to find a tangible representation of the deep love and respect I have for him.

Maybe he'll like a new...tie?

How original.

Considering that my dad rarely never wears ties, even that old standby isn't an option. Fishing and hiking gear are usually the best bet, but even knowing that, I have no idea what to get unless he tells me exactly what he wants. And if I forget to ask... well, shoot. Maybe a gift card?

I'm not exactly admitting that I forgot to ask him this year (*evasive half-smile*)... Let's just say that I found myself perusing the card aisle at Target last night, hoping to find a semi-meaningful card in which to write something at least somewhat more meaningful so that I'd have something to give him today. This is my "old standby" gift: words. They may not cost much, if anything, but they're typically more meaningful than a tie or a new fishing reel would be.

This year, though, even the card aisle failed me. It seems that Father's Day has become nothing more than a day to recognize obese fishermen, beer-loving grill masters, and perpetual flatulence. (Oh, I almost forgot--- a nicely scrolled inscription of generalized mushy sentiments was occasionally thrown in there, too.)

Is this really what fatherhood has been reduced to in our society? Is the term "dad" limited to those men who, having made their contribution(s) to the gene pool, now perpetually take up their rightful place in the La-Z-Boy? Frankly, if this is part of the American dream, I want out.

You might have guessed this already, but I left Target empty-handed last night. I couldn't justify spending $4.59 on the "best" card I could find: "Thanks for the constant source of inspiration you have always been." While that statement may ring true, it doesn't really say anything; it certainly doesn't come close to expressing how incredibly blessed I am or how drastically changed my life would be if my father weren't the true dad that he is and always has been.

My dad may be a baseball coach, fisherman, handyman, and grill master (note here my subtle avoidance of the word "flatulence"), but his role as man and father is by no means defined and/or limited by his work and hobbies. He may have a favorite chair, and he certainly enjoys time alone up in the mountains, but he willingly and readily devotes time to me, my siblings, and my incredible mother.

Most importantly, my father loves Jesus. I am absolutely certain that I would not have the relationship I have with God-- my other Father-- if it weren't for the reflection of Him that I see in my dad on a daily basis. From the time I was little, he would start deep, biblical conversations that would, to many, seem beyond a child's comprehension. Perhaps they were at times. Perhaps, though, my dad has always known that certain aspects of God are best seen through children's eyes... (And how I wish I could still see more of this life with those eyes...) Those conversations still continue. Even the conversations and convictions would be meaningless, though, if they weren't lived out.

Recently, our church had a series on the definition of-- and recognition of-- a real man per God's descriptions and examples in the Bible. At the end of those few weeks, most of the men in this church were given contract of sorts: "The Thin Red Line." It reads like this:

As a man resolved to be the man that God created and intended me to be...

I WILL... Fix my eyes on Jesus.

I WILL... Love and honor and be faithful to my wife.

I WILL... Lead out in the training and instruction of my children.

I WILL... Teach my son.

I WILL... Protect my daughter.

I WILL... Forgive myself and others for the past.

With God's presence, power, and grace...

I WILL... Never, ever, ever give up, quite, resign, or surrender my God-given call to take responsibility for my own life and the lives of the people that God has entrusted to my care.

My dad not only signed the contract: he also kept it and framed it, and he put it where virtually everyone who sets foot in our home can see it. He is utterly in love with his Creator, he is actively reminding himself of the responsibility he has, and (as my entire family and most of his peers can attest to) he's doing everything he can to carry it out.

He may not be perfect, but he is one of the most incredible, godly men and fathers that I've ever had the privilege of meeting. The fact that he's my dad is honestly overwhelming at times... I am so blessed.

Thank you for who you are and all that you do, Daddy. I know I'll never be able to fully express that in words, but that doesn't mean that I won't keep trying to tell you. Thank for loving and honoring mom, and for being every bit the father to Chris, Angela, and Patrick as you are to me. Thank you for not only protecting me from other people and things, but also for teaching me how to recognize the most harmful parts of myself. Thank you for loving our family so well, and thank you for whole-heartedly pursuing Jesus, the only one who makes any of that possible.

Happy Father's Day. I love you.