Nepesh

"I have needs."

This is a favorite phrase my friend and I use to describe our need for lots of hugs.  It's meant to be funny, but as I'm reflecting on my classes this year--I realize this phrase is not quite right.

In my Systematic Theology class this semester, we have talked a lot about our body, soul and spirit.  Often, we say "I have a body, I have a soul, and I have a spirit."  Theology and culture often treat body, soul & spirit as three separate things.  However, in our class we discovered we are body, we are soul and we are spirit." 

Sounds like semantics, right?  Who cares?

Today, I care because of this word: Nepesh.

It is a Hebrew word that is used in Scripture to refer to many things--but it is most often translated as "soul."

It is not translated as something that is an "idea" of a soul, but it has a location: in our throat.  Yep, your soul may very well be your throat.  But before I even attempt to get into all the details of this, just journey with me for a moment.

Nepesh also is the word used for needs (not just appetites).  The need to be needed, the need to have food, shelter, safety, sleep, water, the need to be loved.  These (and others) are the constant cries of our nepesh.

But, many of us have been trained not to "have needs."  We have been trained to be self-sufficient, and to regulate our neediness so that we are not burdensome to anyone (especially God).  Often, we think we are "weak" if we have needs.  Our world seems to think: "No one likes a weak, needy person."

And, while I am definitely in the U.S. culture camp of growing in emotional maturity so we do not break community..I have to say:

We are all needy people. We always have been, and we always will be.  There will never be a day you do not have needs.  You will always need sleep, food, water, shelter, and community, imagination, dreams, music..and to be loved.*  When God made us this way, God said it was "very good."  It's good to be needy!  Really?  If there were no needs, would we ever have community?  Isn't the very act of saying: "I need a hug" an invitation for souls to meet?

In light of  being "nepesh" or being "needy souls,":  

What would happen if instead of saying "I have needs," if we started saying "I am needs."?  

Would that change the way we relate to each other, to God, and to ourselves?

*When I say "to be loved" I do not only mean romantic forms of love.  There are lovely and wonderful people who may not ever need romantic love. Still, we all need unconditional love.  All of us need to experience what it is like to be loved so deeply that someone might die for our needy selves.

Thinking on Shema

What would happen if the way I read the Bible was the way that best loved my neighbor, and not just the way that best loved me?

Mark Study: Missing the Signs

"They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He [Jesus] did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” But they [the disciples] did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.”
—Mark 9:30-32 (NRSV)

I like the disciples in the Gospel account of Mark in the Bible.  Why?  Because I can really relate to them.  They miss the point…A LOT.  The’re portrayed as really human, and downright dullards at times.  

Many days, I feel more like a disciple of the disciples than a disciple of Jesus.

This passage is one of 3 passages in Mark where Jesus warns his disciples that stuff is about to go down, and they need to know.  However, each time—whether from fear, from pride, or from self-righteous indignation—the disciples gloss right over what Jesus says and move on to their own interests or understandings of this “Kingdom of God.”  Then, when Jesus is crucified, the disciples freak out and desert and deny Jesus.  Then they freak out again when Jesus is resurrected.

At this point, I’m always like: "HELLO! It’s not like Jesus didn’t tell you what was going to happen….duh…" ~insert eye roll, hair-flip and self-righteousness~

How many times have I asked God for a sign of what is going to happen, when I’ve already got signs all around me.  How many times do I want to know what God is up to (sort-of?), but I’m really too afraid to ask (or maybe-I don’t really wanna know)?

Perhaps followers of Jesus should not be asking for more signs, but seeking to accurately understand and apply the signs we’ve already been given.

Theological recovery

If the Bible has anything to tell us about the location of Jesus, He isn't filling a God-shaped hole in our hearts.

Balloon

This past Sunday during the sermon I heard a quote that has been haunting me like a pea under a princess' bed.  The pastor said "You can learn a lot if you pay attention to what makes you frustrated or angry."

The truth is, well, a lot makes me frustrated and angry right now.  Killing innocent people makes me frustrated and angry right now.  People suffering from natural disasters makes me frustrated and angry right now.  Saying God doesn't love people of all walks of life makes me frustrated right now.  However, the most interesting thing that makes me angry at the moment is...a balloon.

There is a story of this little girl who lost her grandfather. On a journey to visit her relatives, this little girl's parents bought her a balloon to keep her company.  Upon their family's arrival, they were greeted by an aunt who was still very upset over  her father's death.  All of a sudden, this little girl let go of her balloon, and it floated into the sky.  The aunt asked the girl why she did this, and the girl said something that began to heal her aunt's heart: "I'm sending it to grandpa!"

Now, it's a touching story.  It's a story of deep trust and simple faith.  It's a beautifully kind gesture.  And it makes me angry.  Why?  Because I know of people who would shoo the story away.  Who would say: "The balloon will pop somewhere in the atmosphere and never make it to grandpa, wherever he is"  or "Well, that was a waste of money" or "That girl is so limited in her understanding."

But it mostly makes me angry because I too can be so dismissive of things that don't make a whole lot of logical sense, but they are beautiful demonstrations of God's extravagant love.

What does this story make you feel?

So I Put My Hands Up, and then down.

Things are not always as they seem.

For example, I like to "fake punch" people as a sign of affection.  I'm not sure where that started, or why I still do it.  I'm not really even capable of being violent.  I would always get yelled at by my martial arts instructors to "hit harder!" "Think of someone you hate, and hit harder!"  Never worked.

However, my affectionate punches tie in nicely with something I heard at a concert this week.

Gareth Gilkeson of The Rend Collective Experiment made a statement about worship that I intend on quickly implementing.  He said (in a delightful and resonant Northern Irish accent):  "We all come to church guarded.  Every one of us, whether we are in front or in the back of the room.  So, we should all come to the church service with our hands up like this" 

Think this picture:

Gilkeson goes on to say:

"And so after we come in like this, our first act of worship should be to put our hands down." 

He went on saying: "We are not like machines, being manufactured the same.  We were not created for uniformity, but for unity."

Things are not as they seem in the church, and the whole world knows it.  We are all tired of fake promises of friendliness that don't lead to friendship, as well as hospitality that only sits on a table instead of sitting together at a table.  

Even so, what if all of us--me and you, you and me--what if we chose to put down our barriers ahead of time?  What if instead of coming to church with a stance of entitled expectations, we came with a stance of surrender?  

If we did, what would the church look like?

Searching

I am beginning to understand the prayer "search me and know my heart" was first an invitation from God.