“All these things Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables, and He did not speak to them without a parable.” Matthew 13

So I was driving home from work on Thursday. I left early, around noon, cuz I’d had the flu and was still in recovery mode. I knew that based on the craziness of my previous week I was potentially compromised—I’m convinced the body is “intuitive” and responds to emotional stress, just as it stores grief and remembers on a very deep and meaningful level–so I wasn’t surprised to get sick. Plus I’d taken Christmas down on Saturday, which is a very bad omen in my book. It’s a serious matter with potentially dangerous implications when one strips the house of the yuletide cheer left hanging around after the holidays like so many unwanted relatives, leaving the place and it’s inhabitants naked and vulnerable.

So anyway, there I was driving home and I decided to call an old friend and former colleague. He’s still a pastor. The conversation went like this:

Him: “What are you doing?”
Me: “Driving. What are you doing?”
Him: “Working on my sermon.”
Me: “What are you preaching about?”
Him: “Jesus and the wedding at Cana. How He washes his brides feet with water and the Word.”
(Long Pause)
Me: “Do you do that often in your marriage? Wash your wife’s feet with water and the Word.”
Him: (Laughter) “Well, figuratively. But the scriptures describe Jesus as doing that for His bride the church. Actually more with His blood.”

If you’ve been reading these blogs you might disagree with what I’m about to say; I try REALLY hard not to be judgmental or condescending. Really, I do. But I still sometimes think things that are less than charitable, and occasionally I say what I’m thinking. On this occasion I was thinking in a very LOUD way, “WHAT PRACTICAL PURPOSE DOES THIS SERVE? HOW DOES THIS APPLY TO TO THE LIVES OF ANYONE WHO’S GOING TO HEAR IT?” I was saved from saying what I was thinking by an incoming call from my friend, so the conversation ended quite abruptly.

Nonetheless I was left pondering the practicality of his sermon idea. My thoughts were strung together like the lights (or popcorn for those who are still old school) on the Christmas tree. I thought about possible themes I would choose for that text; my favorite being: “Don’t be a Fish, Drink Like Jesus”. I thought about having, or not having a bride, and how a husband is to treat her in ways that might be more meaningful than washing her feet—though a massage might be welcomed. But I thought most seriously about the concept of the Gospel being practical—of having some kind of pertinence or application to people’s daily lives.

I was still thinking about it when I walked into King Soopers to get the gallon of milk I’d forgotten when I checked out. Doing dumb things like that make me wonder at times if I have early onset alzheimer’s. I headed for the customer service desk. The young man at the counter didn’t have any customers so I caught him holding his head in his hands, like he’d just gotten word of some horrible tragedy. In the few seconds it took me to approach him I imagined a number of scenarios; Maybe his girlfriend (or boyfriend) broke up with him, perhaps he was being fired, maybe he was distraught over the government shut down (not really). Rather than remaining aloof and minding my own business, which would’ve been the polite thing to do, I asked him “Are you doing ok?” I sensed a little surprise on his part, but he quickly answered, “Yes, It’s just insomnia.”

Now, if you’ve ever had trouble sleeping you know that there is no such thing as “JUST insomnia”. Sleeplessness is serious, serious stuff! A person simply can’t function without sleep. You know this. I know this. And that’s why I asked him, “Are you getting any help?” To which he responded, “I’ve tried everything. Nothing seems to work. At best I fall asleep around 12:30. Usually it’s 3 a.m. or after which is really tough when I have to be here for the early shift.”

So here’s a question: What does the Gospel have to do with insomnia? Or more specifically, with the kid that works at that supermarket? And what would YOU say to him if you wanted to help? Would you tell him that Jesus loves him? Would you preach law to him and convict him of whatever sin you believe is keeping him awake at night? Would you tell him “I have good news for you: Jesus washes his bride’s feet with water and the Word.” I’m only being slightly facetious here! To make a point. There is a huge disconnect, a kind of pious parting of the ways, when we so spiritualize Jesus and the Gospel that it becomes impractical to everyday life. Doing so makes Jesus and His words a sort of philosophy that doesn’t come close to touching reality. Which is exactly contrary to the life purpose of Jesus. The Gospel is many things, one of which is very, very practical. Which is part of the reason, I believe, that Jesus told stories.

So what did I say to this young man? I wish I could tell you that I told him a story about someone or something having to do with insomnia. Or that I said something clever and insightful and incredibly practical that caused the kid to have a sudden epiphany or be inspired to try something he hadn’t thought of before. I didn’t. He didn’t. I did tell him that not being able to sleep really sucks and I felt bad for him. I meant it. Maybe he felt cared for a bit. And maybe in that he experienced a bit of the Gospel, practically speaking.