Keeping it Raw
The Jesus we like to identify with and tell people about is the ever loving, full of grace, resurrected Jesus. We mention that he died on the cross for our sins but we don’t talk much about what the really means. Maybe it’s because we’re not fully sure why death was necessary. Or what that means for us as his followers. But when we speak of his life, death and resurrection, we claim the resurrection as the miraculous part. His life is unique and challenging. His death, humbling. But his resurrection? That’s one miracle no one’s been able to imitate. Others have hung on a cross. But only one has ever risen from the dead to live and walk again.
I look forward to Easter Sunday, when we will spend the day reveling in this glorious act of God. This life giving hope to all death. But until then, I want to see Jesus for who he really is. The raw Jesus. Not the beautified easy one to love and serve. Not the one I created in my image. But the one who suffered. The one who entered into the darkness of this world and spent his life engaging sin and speaking truth into an envisioned future for all those who would believe.
The suffering Jesus is not the Jesus we rest in. He’s not the one that we normally go to for comfort. Because suffering is scary for us. We spend a lot of time and energy trying to avoid suffering. But to know Jesus — to really know Jesus — one must also know suffering. And to me, it’s this suffering, this cross in his life that is truly miraculous. For what other God has chosen to suffer on behalf of those he created and loves? What other God humbly became man so we would know him?
This cross shaped Jesus is more difficult to approach. We don’t know how. But I want to try.
During these days of Lent, I will be making sincere efforts towards seeing Jesus raw. Erasing preconceived images I have of him. All for the purpose of understanding how I am also called to the cross. How the suffering Jesus shapes my life.
To prepare me for this journey of discovery, I will be eating only raw foods (with the exception of a meal shared with my family at dinner). When I ate this way last year during Lent, I viewed the diet as a symbolic gesture of keeping it raw. Raw foods, the raw quiet, raw words spoken in prayer — all to see a raw Jesus and who he is calling our family to be. What he’s calling our family to do.
But it means more to me this year. It’s no longer symbolic. This way of eating is a part of the discernment process. If what we do in the flesh affects what we do in the spirit, then how we feed our bodies matter. What we do with our hands matter. What we see with our eyes matters. What we listen to matters. How we spend our time matters.
Our family has decided that during Lent our hope is to claim a rhythm to our day that allows more time for others, more time for listening, more time for engaging. More time for worship. All with the goal of being more available to God in our spirits. In order to embrace these disciplines, we will be more intentional with the ways of our flesh. We will be eating with greater thought, spending less time with electronics and media, and choosing regular and consistent sleep times. This will take denial. Of idle watching. Mindless snacking. Boredom induced Facebooking. Mother distracted video game playing. Late nights, late mornings.
It won’t be easy for this let’s play it by ear kind of family. But we’re also a we want more of Jesus kind of family, so we’re going to make an effort to see and hear him during more of our day. Through saying yes to some things and saying no to others.
Will you be fasting during Lent? I would love to hear what God is calling you to and what you feel you must give up in order to do it. Let our stories and practices encourage each other in our journeys.
edited from a previous post
