As I was talking to a close friend the other day, he took a deep breath and started telling me about how worn he was feeling. That was his word, not tired, not weary, not exhausted, just worn. For the next few minutes he proceeded to walk through how the last few weeks, months, and years had taken a toll on him. Not in a visible way, but in the ever so subtle, slow, and almost imperceptible manner. The way that water can eventually wear a path through stone. That kind of worn.

He talked about the pressure to provide, to maintain the standard of living he had – he was quick to note that he had set it himself, gradually raising it over time to a socially acceptable level. But a very high level. He wondered where his joy of salvation was, where all his hope was, and where the peace that passes understanding was. In short, he was struck with “is this all there is” to life. Life as a Christ follower.

Like many people struggling on the inside, when you look at his outside, he’s got it all – according to the world. He’s respected, successful, huge friendship circle, impressive home, nice cars, goes to church, gives at charity events, you get the idea. He does all the right things as defined by his standards, and the standards of his neighborhood, his friends, and even his family. He fits into his world so well. On the surface.

Yet he’s slowly burning out, maybe not so slowly. I would venture to say that the burn has accelerated, as most fires tend to do with enough fuel. The real fuel? Expectations. Simply expectations. His, his families, his friends. Everyone expects that life continues on a straight line – up and to the right. Bigger job with more money leads to bigger house and nicer cars and so on. No one expects him to do anything but become more.

Funny how when we take our US, upper middle class, Christian blinders off, and look at our savior, we see a homeless man, walking everywhere, teaching all who would listen, and even eating grain out of the field. With his collection of chronic underachievers walking beside and behind him. Poor, uneducated, dirty, dusty common men. But they were men who walked with Jesus, and they changed the world. Not with money, not with power, or fame, or anything worldly. They finally understood what Jesus was saying all along, that the things of this world are ultimately meaningless. And while they are ultimately meaningless, they can actually be quite destructive in the short term. Jesus had so much to say about money and wealth. Somehow, many of us have decided that His words about wealth don’t apply to us, because we are good people, we’re Christ followers.

I didn’t offer my friend any solutions, I simply listened and let him unwind his story. But he left me wondering about many of the same things. Where is my joy, hope, and peace? Do I hear the still small voice, or is it drowned out by the tyranny of possessions? Do I even consider the tyranny of possessions or have I come to accept the relentless pressure to achieve and maintain?

I’m afraid that my friend would be someone that Jesus would tell to “sell everything and come follow me” and he would walk away sadly, because he had great wealth. I’m afraid that I’m more like my friend than I would care to admit.

Grace and Peace