Today feels full of the mundane. We’re in the midst of switching our diet to try to heal our bodies. Therefore, I’ve been doing obscene amounts of food preparation and cleanup. Frankly, I’ve been feeling a little sorry for myself, and frustrated that I’m expending so much energy on the piddly things of life. I’d much rather be doing something obviously significant–like working on my book, or being involved in community.
Yet I’ve been asking myself what makes something mundane? For me that involves having it feel purposeless (and often, repetitive). Senselessness is the death knell for so many things. In the midst of these musings, I’ve been editing a section of my book. It’s about the cross. You, o fortunate few, will get a sneak peek of this draft:
All at once, light exploded into the darkness. Temporarily struck blind, I blinked and shaded my eyes, trying to make out where we’d ended up. Though we remained in the cavern, it had been transformed into something like an IMAX theater. Images played 360 degrees around me. Space stretched out. Planets, stars, and galaxies were set in place. The images played, faster and faster, until there was nothing but a blur of coruscating light. Then, the image froze on a small baby lying in a manger as angels rejoiced.
Jesus pointed to the baby. “Here I am, infiltrating enemy territory.”
I half-turned, puzzled by His terminology. “Infiltrating enemy territory?” Such strange language to refer to becoming a helpless babe–though, even as a baby, I’m sure He was far from ordinary.
He nodded somberly and His eyes grew pained. “Yes, enemy territory. When Adam and Even followed Satan’s advice, taking themselves out from under Our authority, this world We created became enemy territory. Humans became slaves to sin. For this We had planned a rescue mission. It was in becoming human that I triumphed.”
“Oh, right.” I turned back to the screen.
The picture moved on, then paused again at the crucifixion of my Lord. I shuddered, Such a gory, gruesome tragedy.
Jesus laid a hand on my shoulder. “Not just a tragedy. An accomplishment. Never forget that I cam for this purpose: to die in your stead, to rescue you. My love for you was why I stayed on that cross. It was not just a tragedy, but a triumph!” He exclaimed joyfully as the image showed His empty tomb.
Looking at the cross apart from the context of the gospel renders it a senseless tragedy. Set in its proper place, the gospel is the crown jewel of Christianity. Jesus–God become human–dying to rescue sinners and rising from the dead to prove the efficacy of His work.
So maybe I just need to set my mundane tasks in the larger context of the gospel. Preparing food is a way to bless my family and for us to grow closer to being the people God created us to be. Healing our physical bodies allows us greater freedom to invest in the more obviously ministry oriented things we love. More than that, this is a diet we began only after much prayer. It’s something God pretty obviously put in our path at the perfect time. So preparing food is also an act of obedience, which rises it far above the mundane and into the realm of the epic.
I think most things in my life can be classed thus. If I have eyes to see it, every task can be set in the context of God’s larger plan for my life and seen as something epic and beautiful.
