“Like when you sit in front of a fire in winter — you are just there in front of the fire. You don’t have to be smart or anything. The fire warms you.” Desmond Tutu, South African clergy, on being filled with God’s love
It was one of those exchanges of comments that reminds bloggers that people they have never actually met would make excellent friends were they anywhere near. The last thing I wrote was something like, “I can’t imagine what I would do without God in my life.”
The words bugged me all weekend. And, into the next week.
I have lived long enough to know that, while the sentiment is valid, “God in my life” can mean anything, or absolutely nothing.
It’s true. It’s entirely possible to say all the churchy words, sing all the churchy songs, go on mission trips, wear a cross big enough to swat flies, pray for the sick, partake in Communion (or even be the guy offering Communion) and be as spiritually empty as a plastic Easter egg in November.
The words made me think and think and think. “God in my life” just isn’t enough. It’s “God’s life in me” that’s necessary.
That’s what Jesus was getting at when He spoke of offering His flesh and blood for us to eat and drink, a symbol of His work on the cross. Those who pondered this the least likely wondered if He was hinting at cannibalism. Those who thought a bit more were likely intrigued, but thought He was offering the impossible. Only those who believed – in a flash of Holy Spirit inspiration — heard His words for what they were.
A gift, a promise, a way to God’s life in us. In our thoughts. In our emotions. In our words. In our actions.
That, oh, that will sustain us until the day God’s life in us becomes God with us and us with God. Forever and ever. And, it will always be enough.