Monday, June 15, 2009

I would like three pounds of God.

I ran across this poem:

I would like to buy three dollars worth of God, please.
Not enough or explode my soul or disturb my sleep,
But just enough to equal a cup of warm milk, or a snooze in the sunshine.
I don’t want enough of Him to make me love a black man, or pick beets with a migrant worker.
I want ecstasy, not transformation.
I want the warmth of the womb, not a new birth.
I want a pound of the eternal in a paper sack.
I would like to buy three pounds of God, please.
–Wilbur Reese

Wow.  Sure, it's tongue in cheek, but honest.  Almost too honest.

I want enough of God to wash away my sin, but not enough to challenge me into personal sacrifice and suffering. I want the Lord of the Universe to come into my life, but then sit quietly at the table and not speak unless I ask.

We want to give him an hour on Sunday.  But do we want to give him all week?

If the Gospel wasn't all about grace, this would be easy.  You see, if I got what I deserved, I could bargain with God.  "I worked this much and fulfilled my part of the bargain, so you can ask this much of me."  Instead, we face the trauma of grace:  Since he gives freely and without merit, he can ask everything.