Man #1: “Ugh, it sure is cold today.”

Man #2: “Yeah, but at least it keeps the mosquitos away.”

Lord, help me be more like Man #2.

Since then three hundred years have fled,
And, I infer, the calf is dead.
But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day,
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bellwether sheep,
Pursued the trail o’er vale and steep,
And drew the flock behind him, too,
As good bellwethers always do.

And from that day, o’er hill and glade,
Through those old woods a path was made,
And many men wound in and out,
And dodged and turned and bent about,
And uttered words of righteous wrath
Because ‘twas such a crooked path;
But still they followed—do not laugh—
The first migrations of that calf,
And through this winding wood-way stalked
Because he wobbled when he walked.

This forest path became a lane,
That bent, and turned, and turned again.
This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load
Toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years passed on in swiftness fleet.
The road became a village street,
And this, before men were aware
A city’s crowded thoroughfare,
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed that zigzag calf about,
And o’er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.
A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They follow still his crooked way,
And lose one hundred years a day,
For thus such reverence is lent
To well-established precedent.

A moral lesson this might teach
Were I ordained and called to preach;
For men are prone to go it blind
Along the calf-paths of the mind,
And work away from sun to sun
To do what other men have done.
They follow in the beaten track,
And out and in, and forth and back,
And still their devious course pursue,
To keep the path that others do.

They keep the path a sacred groove,
Along which all their lives they move;
But how the wise old wood-gods laugh,
Who saw the first primeval calf!
Ah, many things this tale might teach—
But I am not ordained to preach.

by Sam Walter Foss (1858–1911)

Take a deep breath. Now breath in just a little more. Now a little more. C’mon, suck in just a little more, until your lungs are completely full. Now without exhaling, breathe in again. And again. And again.

What’s wrong?

Okay, if you haven’t passed out (and I sincerely hope you haven’t) you have just proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that breathing is a two step process. In order to inhale you must exhale. And in order to exhale you must inhale. Seems elementary, right?

And yet, across America millions of Christians are trying to live  life as spiritual sniffers, only inhaling. Sunday’s here; go to church; inhale a sermon. If you’re up for it, go to Sunday School; inhale a Bible lesson. Wednesday evening go to Bible study; inhale again. Thursday at lunch listen to a celebrity pastor preach on the radio; sniff, sniff. Saturday spend some time reading a book by another Christian celebrity. Sniff, sniff, sniff. When do you exhale? When do you give all that good stuff to someone else?

The author of the book of Hebrews says a similar thing using a different metaphor.

“You have been believers so long now that you ought to be teaching others. Instead, you need someone to teach you again the basic things about God’s word.You are like babies who need milk and cannot eat solid food.”

What is milk? It’s food that was digested by the mom and is now given to the child in another form. Milk is what we give babies who can’t feed themselves. Solid food is what we eat when we’re old enough to feed ourselves. No matter how great that sermon you heard was, it’s not solid food, it’s not what some call the “meat of the Word.” It can’t be because someone else did all the work of digesting the Scripture and is now spoon feeding you. Solid food is what you eat when you feed on the Word yourself, when you dig in and study and pray and learn first-hand.

But we don’t do that. Instead we keep sniffing and inhaling and never exhaling until we’re spiritually blue in the face. The Christian life was never meant to be lived like that. Believe me, it’s much more fun when you feed yourself and you share what you’re learning with others. So, breathe. In and out. In and out. That’s right. See, isn’t that better?

I first heard the group playing on the overhead speakers in the local Barnes and Noble bookstore. The freshness of their sound cut through the clutter and noise around me, making my ears perk up and take notice. Cello has long been a favorite instrument of mine. Its deep sonorous melancholy often resonates with my moods. But, Stjepan Hauser and Luka Sulic coax rhythm, groove, beat, and sounds from their instruments that I would never have thought possible. Combine this with some truly innovative arrangements of songs by Sting, Michael Jackson, and U2 and you’ll never look at the cello the same again.

You can listen to them here  and you can see videos here. Let me know what you think.

Now if someone can just be this creative with the piccolo …

At least life with God should be easy, right? I should be able to understand everything I read in the Bible the first time I read it and God should give me whatever I want when I pray. Isn’t that why God exists in the first place, to make my life easier? Isn’t he the divine easy button? No?

We work hard at our jobs, we spend many hours and much money on our hobbies. Most of us know that human relationships take hard work. So, why do we assume that life with God should be effortless?

God says, “You will seek me and find me when you search for me with all  your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13)

Gosh, searching with all my heart? That sounds like hard work. That sounds like studying and learning and reading and persevering in prayer and laboring to get along with people who are hard to get along with and taking risks to share my faith.

Life is hard. There is no easy button. But, life with God is good.