To be honest with you, I haven't read much more this week than the book of Luke. The pastor of the church I attend, Pastor Juan, made a sort-of challenge to the congregation to "be in the story of Jesus," because, he said, "there is no better story, is there?" He said it with a smile and it's hard to not like the man anyway, he's very engaging and speaks as if from the heart. (I believe that he really is speaking from his heart). "Read through the gospels," he suggested, mentioning that he'd been doing just that--one chapter a day--for quite a while. And the story of Jesus had sunk into him gradually, over time.
So I began. One chapter a day. And along the way--through the book of Matthew, then Mark, and now Luke, I've seen the story of Jesus through the eyes of different writers. And this feels like a gift. Matthew seemed to tell the story straight-up. Mark was more of a dramatist; his story had flare, excitement. The word choices were different. And now Luke? Luke seems to be paying more attention to the particulars. The historical, "this is what was happening in the world" things. It's just so interesting to me to see how different people see the same story.
I marvel at it: thinking of how writers are different from visual artists, are different from physicians, are different from musicians, different from farmers, different from accountants, different from park rangers, different from priests. Each singular person--each one of us--understands life, what we see, and understands Jesus in a unique way. Because we are all intricately different. We are built from the same ideas: cells, organs, skin, eyes, same elements--just different combinations.
Obvious things to mention, maybe. Clear things. Science at its most basic truths. But here, look, see!? I've gotten to this point just by thinking about the gospels. Go Luke. Go Jesus.
And oh yeah: happy December.
Keep reading, keep loving, keep working at what you do with all of your heart (or mind, or body. Whichever you favor.)
Cheers and blessings,