Why do you not DO what I tell you?

I'm realizing that many of the questions that Jesus asked have a definite tone of frustration:  "Why do you not...How much longer...do you not understand?" As a mother it reminds me of how often I grill my seven year old, "why did you do....?"  In seeking to answer this question asked by Jesus, I am reminded of Paul who says, "I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do not do, but I do the very thing I hate."  I think we can all resonate with this sentiment.  

This is one of those "loaded questions."  Most good teachers know how to ask them.  It allows the hearer to answer the question from within their resources while glimpsing some uncomfortable truths as well.  What I hear in this question touches on identity.  Shakespeare said that all of the world is a stage.  So, are we nothing more than period actors in any given situation?  Are there actually many different personas that we project given our surroundings?  Is there any sense of integrity between who we are in public and who we are in private?

The charge leveled against modern believers is that we are nothing more than hypocrites: acting holier than thou on Sunday and acting like everyone else (or worse) during the week.  I suspect that Jesus had more than a fair glimpse of this in the temple hierarchy.  But, it was even more painful when his own disciples showed their intemperate attitudes on a regular basis.  Do we fall victim to the notion that there is a Sunday/Sabbath self and a real self at home.  And, that such a dichotomy is acceptable?  Is our sense of self grounded on rock, or with the changing sands of time?  Will I merely answer this question in the way that I think will be pleasing and profitable?

I think Lent is the perfect time to hone who we are, who we want to be, and to make sure it matches our actions.  Do we "do" what God has asked us to do?  Are we willing to deepen our life of discipleship or do we dismiss this question as too high in expectations?  Do we nod yes, and then go about our business as if it had never happened?

                

I think we must forever attune ourselves to the reality that the normal flow of this world will not support authenticity.  We are manipulated by media, power, prestige, etc.  Before we know it, we are bending to some will which is not our own and which is not God's either.  Lent is the time we get to know that raw, wounded space, that vulnerable place in all of us, and let that space be honored as holy and ripe for transformation.

Where do our priorities lie this day?  How might we intentionally create more authentic space in our being and in our actions?  What, or who is Lord of my life?