Getting my theology from C.S. Lewis and John Lydon...

Toddler Houdini was a little sick today, so she and I stayed home while the Mighty Mrs. J took the other 2 kids to worship with our peeps. While they were gone TH and I lounged about, watching TV. We especially enjoyed the "History of Rock and Roll" episode on VH1 Classic. The episode we watched was about the punk era (mid-70's to early 80's). (Actually, she watched Little Bear in the living room, while I watched VH1 Classic in the bedroom.)

Mostly I just enjoyed the music and the stories. The part that got me thinking about spiritual things was a film clip that showed the very end of the last concert by John Lydon's group (I won't mention the name of the group, because it's not appropriate for a family blog. Google John Lydon if you don't know his stage name or his first group.)

After the end of their last song, Lydon yells to the crowd, "Ya ever feel like you've been cheated?" Most people thought he was saying that they had cheated the audience. But Lydon said that what he meant was that he and the group had been cheated; that they got into music expecting one thing, but found out the reality was very different, and disappointing. So disappointing they disbanded after being together only 3 years.

The spiritual application? I wonder how many of us are cheating ourselves out the blessings God wants for us. How many of us pursue things that aren't really important in an eternal sense? How many of us harbor doubts about God, thinking He's less great, less good, less loving than He actually is? How many of us see our faith as a duty to be performed, rather than a relationship to be cherished? How many of us build walls between us and other people, keeping them at a distance? All those things, and a hundred more, cheat us out of experiencing the life that God wants for us.

It reminds me of something said during a sermon entitled, "The Weight of Glory."

Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

I hope none of us will look back at our lives to discover we were "half-hearted creatures."