Don did a podcast Don did: http://lifereference.wordpress.com/2014/06/09/weekly-podcast-june-9-2014/
Then last night I pondered. My daily portion of verse. A smidgeon of The Sermon. Three verses. Matthew paused after a few notes. Salt and light around the concert hall today. With the echo of Don’s podcast reverberating in the same space.
This monologue on the mount. Three chapters from the mouth of Jesus to the multitude.
Would I listen to a concert in three-note bites? Hear a famous speech in one-sentence-helpings? Relax to my favourite music with a jittery pause button? Would I live my life walking just two paces and then stopping until tomorrow? And then walking two more. And stopping. And if I did …
Would you ever walk alongside me?
So Don – I have a thought about podcasts. I have a thought about this Mount, this revered, hushed, ever-so-awed Monologue of The Mount.
My thought is noise.
Mutterers. Commenters. Questioners. Jokers. Hecklers. A multitude of noise makers:
What was that Jesus? What did He just say? My dad was a salty sailor, only lost his saltiness after our annual bath!!! Shaddup over there I can’t hear that Jesus fella. He said light. Lights??? It’s the middle of the day. Will you give your gob a rest I want to hear Jesus! So do I. Shaddup all of you and let me listen! Haven’t you got it yet, thicky – does that mean your lights are on but no one’s home! Guffaw guffaw.
Hot and dusty. Sweaty and noisy. Multitudes on the mount – in the sun – don’t do silence good.
So I want more. Not less. I want to listen, to laugh, to be alive with that multitude. With Jesus. I want to be the ordinary bloke who comes away changed. The one who missed half the sermon, the one who enjoyed all the banter, yet the one – as we do in real life – who gets the gist of something so powerful. Doesn’t need to ruminate every second of every crafted word. Yet is the one who connects with Jesus. And is changed. For ever.
I want to be the one who thought I heard Jesus say that every rule written has a reason and a time. Who heard Him tell me why. Someone who breathed life into me. By breathing love into His teaching. Making it a messy message of love from the mount. In the heat and dust of my damp perspiration.
Because this day … ?
I see a “celeb pimped version” of the sermon. Stuck on a pedestal. Dissected. Laboriously. Earnestly. Carved ever so thin. Yet padded ever so thick.
You know something?
I get the salt. I get the light. But I want to sweat and mutter and chuckle and be in that multitude. To hear Jesus as Jesus was heard. Connect with Jesus as Jesus connected. Cheer and laugh and love. See the dirt under his toenails whilst looking Him in the eye. See His soul as He sees mine. See my God looking out at me. Smiling with love.
I don’t want monologue. Awed silence. Jesus in the distance. Struggling to connect.
This is Jesus and me and a multitude being washed with words. Submerged in Love. Sailing on the soul of love. Scared, excited, yearning, cared for. Alive!
I have been in too many crowds to believe Jesus did not get even a solitary “yeah man!!” Followed by a “shush up over there” followed by a cracker in the crowd causing a chuckle. Followed by ….
So I have an idea for the spoken word. Perhaps an ambitious podcast.
Can the life and love and love that Jesus breathed into that multitude come alive again? With noise and sweat and dust and banter. With the start, middle and finish – and the heckling, banter and laughter? The “getting it” without hearing every single letter in every single word.
I think I am asking whether we can we let Jesus free. To allow Him His “Sermon on The Mount (The Unedited Version)”? The one He gave us.
With nowt taken out.