Everything about us is geared toward action. We are a busy, busy people. It’s great! We do stuff. We move; we go; we participate; we enliven; we improve; we change; we conquer; we build. We are born to answer our own call to alter.
The one place though, where doing nothing is doing everything, is with God. There everything has already been done. If you believe in the phenomenon of Jesus Christ, then you believe that through him you are, without condition or qualification, reconciled to God.
John the Divine tells us that Jesus’ final words on the cross were, “It is finished.” Not, “It is finished, more or less.” Not, “It’s pretty darn close to being finished.” Not, “It is finished, as long as the people it’s finished for pitch in and do their part.”
No. Just, “It is finished.” It’s done. It’s over. Mission accomplished. Through the sacrifice of Jesus your relationship with God was established in the moment, and forever.
So where are you going? Where are you going? What needs your attention? Toward what end are you exercising your will?
What’s left for you to do?
What part of “finished” don’t you get?
Yes, yes, yes: Good works are beautiful and necessary. We must right wrong where we find it. No question. And certainly there is much in the world which necessarily keeps us busy as beavers: We must eat. We must work. Somebody needs to drive the kids to soccer practice. That lawn’s not going to mow itself.
But every so often we have got to remember that part of being a Christian is knowing that it’s perfectly okay for us to be the laziest Christian in the history of fallen man. In God we have every last reason to do nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Right now, sitting on my couch, I am saved. I’m as saved as I would be if I were duct-taping limbs back onto people in a leper colony. (Oh, great. Now I’m going to hell. See what happens when you try to do stuff like tell stupid jokes?)
I am saved; the believing wino on the street is saved, the saint working with the poor and destitute is saved. No one Christian can be more saved than another. None of us is going to a better heaven. Jesus didn’t die more for one of us than the other.
Through Jesus, I’m saved. If I go to church, I’m saved. If I don’t go to church, I’m saved. If I spend four hours a day reading the Bible, I’m saved. If I don’t know Revelations from Jingle Bells, I’m saved.
Working with the homeless? Saved.
Staying home all day watching television? Still saved!
Yes, being saved means I’m not comfortable staying home and watching TV, because now I have too much life in me for that.
But if I turn off the TV, sit up straight, close my eyes, breath deep, and just be with God? If thusly I do as little as it’s humanely possible to do while still awake?
Then how could I possibly do more?