Not Good-An Observation and Confession

I just finished an interesting book by A. J. Jacobs called, The Year of Living Biblically: One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible. This documentary of A. J.’s spiritual experiment was very interesting in an “I didn’t know that about The Old Testament/ The Bible in general/ Jewish culture and practices/ the beliefs of the (fill in any number of specific denominations here). But in addition to the enjoyment of reading Jacobs’ fascinating and quite often hilarious journey that evolved during his mission “to obey the entire Bible, without picking and choosing,” I found the state of my own spiritual journey being challenged. (Hmm… this sounds like a biased report, or sappy book-praise…)

I don’t often do this sort of detailed written explanation of the position my soul is in. I usually feel much too shy, ashamed, inadequate, etc. (in short, “non-committal”) to claim a series of revelations, or a certain type of idea as my own. I’m terrified of taking authority of something I’ve written, because it’s important to me that words are used properly, or that if I do take a leap and decide to portray a thought in a non-abstract way, that my ideas will be understood. And by trying to make my thoughts clear for the public to read it becomes obvious that I have spent a considerable amount of time arranging the words, making things “just so”, (which implies that I must be satisfied with the piece, since I’ve eventually gotten around to posting it). So, there you have it, I’m a scared-y-cat. I just wrote an entire paragraph (Look, I’m still going!) to explain that I’m not actually satisfied with these words. I’m nervous about who will read them, what feelings will be attached to my person afterwards because of them, and how my future self will be held accountable to their meanings. Now, I realize that some (if not most) people don’t attach as much weight to words as I do, and so I really have nothing to be anxious over in consideration of the public, (and this paragraph has become more like a musician covering his ass by claiming, “I haven’t practiced in a while,” before he plays his piece,) but I’m too obsessed with covering my ass to erase this whole thing and expose myself without the preamble. I’m not even going to apologize.
Vulnerability is a fear of mine. I’m working on it.

So, here’s the gist: A. J. Jacobs, a New Yorker and a secular writer, who tends to lean towards the quirky and the obscure when choosing his writing projects, (his other novel is devoted to The Encyclopedia Britannica,) decides to see what will happen when he tries to live the “ultimate biblical life”. His interest in his own Jewish ancestors leads him to decide to break up his year into eight months of strictly Old Testament laws, rules, practices, and suggestions and four months studying the same in the New Testament.
Seriously, this guy is dedicated. He really does his homework: reading through the Bible, studying in different translations, sifting through commentaries and self-help books, setting up for himself a “spiritual advisory board” consisting of many people sitting in various positions on the spiritual spectrum. I was pretty impressed with how far he went to make his experience valuable, how far he went in order to write a good book. His dedication is especially bizarre since he’s a self-proclaimed agnostic. He’s not really sure if he believes that God exists at all, and he’s constantly revisiting three specific states of spirituality: denial of God’s existence, a vitalism of sorts (his reverence for a “divine spark” in life’s molecular reactions), and suddenly coming to conclusion that existence seems much too random without a God who cares, but quickly dismissing that conclusion when he realizes that he’s not ready to let loose control of his life. This is sad.

But I loved the book, especially the first eight chapters.
It’s really easy for me to pull up alongside Jacobs. I love the quest. I love the knowledge he attains, and the setting of that knowledge into practice in his life. He’s practical, and literal. I love the dedicated, slightly obsessive way he performs his new spiritual rituals. All of his progress, and even his doubts and cyclic ideas about God seem comfortingly familiar to me. We’re different in the fact that I believe that God is, this belief is very rarely removed from me, but the vitalist in me often delights more in the wonder of life than the creator of life Himself.
A. J. reminded me of my own fixations. His search to become a “better person”, to become “good” is not unlike my own. Perhaps he was fueled by a slightly different source to begin with, I’m certainly not writing a book on my progress, but after some months of changing his appearance, his speech and his actions, among other things, Jacobs mind has naturally drifted to assessing life from a moral, more biblical standpoint. His reactions are gentler, he’s learning to forgive, he’s slowly conquering the urge to lie, etc. – a form of cognitive dissonance that seems to be working. This is so exciting for me. I romanticize the act of self-bettering. I obsess over it.
I love the idea of being better, of being aware of my faults in order that I can replace them, so that I can improve myself, fix myself. My mind is often consumed with achieving a higher level of goodness –it seems like it’s worth my time.

When he reached month number nine, the first month of his New Testament observance, Jacobs could no longer ignore Jesus, and I could no longer ignore the disappointing realization that I had been ignoring Jesus. Going about the motions, praying, resting for the Sabbath, tithing, the taming of the tongue, the cleansing the mind of greed and other impurities, even the strict observance of obscure laws all made sense to me, they were all filled with exciting possibilities. Somehow I had managed to ignore the fact that Jesus wasn’t in the picture.
So, you can read the book for yourself if you so desire –the ending’s a little disappointing, not because it’s poorly written, but because Jacobs still can’t submit himself to Christ. I certainly understand the logistics of it –to continue in his spiritual search with the same fervor after his project was over would be an obvious personal commitment above and beyond mere research for a book. That’s a big lifestyle change, especially coming from a mainstream New York writer with Jewish heritage. I was raised in a Christ-focused home by (wonderful) Christ-seeking parents, and have been blessed with many dedicated Christian friends, yet I still find it difficult to claim Christ. I want to do it myself. I want to fix myself. I want to be loving, to be just and merciful, to be generous and gentle, and most importantly to be good. The strangest thing is that a lot of the time I do this in the knowledge of God, I do it for Him.

“Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered, “No one is good – except God alone.”
Luke 18:19

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross!
Philippians 2:5-8

I don’t know how I always come to the idea that I can obtain goodness for myself. God is good. Jesus didn’t even consider himself equal.

It was so obvious to me the Jacobs was missing the point when he skirted around Jesus in the New Testament, still trying to hold onto to goodness for himself. Without Christ, all the transformations that I was so excited for in A. J. seemed pointless. It’s Christ who transforms us, who makes our transformations worthwhile, and it’s God who is good, not me.

I’m not sure what this post is supposed to say, or how it’s supposed to end. I know I felt responsible to be a little more obvious and vulnerable in my claim to Christ. He is what makes me worthwhile; His death makes my transformation and redemption possible. I do believe that, I shouldn’t be too proud to declare it.

Usually this is where I’d write something ridiculously off-topic or whimsical to take away from the heavy fact that I am being serious, and the embarrassing reality that I just laid bare that I’ve “discovered” something so obvious. But that’s probably Pride talking, so I’ll leave it. (Even this disclaimer is probably pushing the boundaries.)

I pray that God would make me able give up my ideals of self-transformation, and to allow Him to be the one to mold me, ripen me, make me less obsessed with my own state and more concerned with His way.

These are my reflections.
Love, Krista

P.S. A. J. Jacobs, you still doing the self-Google?