At first, it can feel like Jesus is speaking an entirely different language. Because he is. Jesus speaks the language of heaven. It’s nearly impossible to understand someone speaking in a foreign language, so don’t be surprised. Just get busy trying to learn it.

Then, as you begin to learn that language, you still often find yourself unsure of certain phrases of Jesus. Because Jesus also speaks the dialect of heaven. You may have learned, over time, to speak the same basic language, but there’s still something lost in the dialect. Like British jokes to American ears.

Might be your best, most honest response to Jesus. Sometimes he just says things that don’t make sense. At least not yet. And sometimes he repeats those nonsensical things, as if by saying it again you’re going to magically catch on.

Maybe you will. Maybe you won’t.

Instead of forcing an explanation, out of some unhealthy pressure to look like a good Christian or to look really clever, I suggest two things:

There is much confusion about God. Not that I really fault anyone for that. God is a confusing concept / belief / being. And we are, after all, very limited creatures attempting to understand a limited deity. As Augustine said,

“Si comprendis, non est Deus.” If you understand, what you understand isn’t God.

But just because we can’t understand all of God, doesn’t mean that we can’t understand some of God. Some is certainly possible; all is a pipe dream.

Doesn’t make it true.

But if that something is seen, heard, felt, tasted, or experienced by even one other person, then the likelihood of my story being true jumps up significantly.

The reputation of that other person also has bearing on whether or not a thing is true. If they’re known for telling lies, well, then my story isn’t made much stronger by their agreement. But if they’re known for telling the truth, then my story gets a big boost in ratings.

Which doesn’t mean you can’t ever use it, only that it’s best to use it infrequently and only when absolutely necessary. There is, I think, an appropriate time and place for four-letter words. Just not all the time. And by “use” I mean, of course “do.”

If anyone is truly honest, no one wants to live in a world where no one judges. We all judge our food. We judge whether or not a product is worth the price. We judge our favorite sports teams and—perhaps more harshly—our least favorite sports teams. Teachers judge educational performance. Doctors judge the effectiveness of medical treatments. Judges judge court cases.

We all recall do want to live in a world where people judge, just not a world where people are judgy.

And sometimes you just need to be your own witness. Because only you know where you come from and where you’re going, and what all the life in between has been. When it really comes down to it, only you can know who you really are and what you are made for. Of course, there will be times when others simply don’t believe you. It’s those times you just need to find the inner resources to say, “My testimony about myself is valid.”

The alternative is to let others define you. To let their narrative of where you’ve come from become your origin story. To let their vision of your future become the dominant prophetic voice. To let their summary of you become your life story.

Is dangerous business. Just ask your big toe. Even in a familiar environment, there can be uncomfortable surprises: There’s a dog bone in the middle of the floor. The coffee table is closer than you remember. A spider is camped out on the light switch.

If you’ve already navigated that space enough in the light, you can manage. An unfamiliar environment, however, is a whole different story. The smartest thing to do is to just not move at all. Stay still. Stay put. Wait til dawn.

Life is an unfamiliar environment. While your life might be relatively comfortable and familiar to you (after all, it’s the only life you’ve ever lived), it’s still not as brightly lit as you might like to think.

When the voices of condemnation have been silenced, it’s time to belt out a new song.

When the pointing fingers of shame have gone, the only thing left to do is to not invite them back and to fill our home with new and joyful friends.

A favorite opportunity for preacher speculation is the time Jesus wrote on the ground: An angry mob brings him a woman caught in adultery, wanting to stone her, because the Moses says so. They ask Jesus for his opinion because they want to catch him in a religious dispute.

Instead of engaging directly Jesus writes something on the ground, says “Let any of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at here,” and then writes on the ground again. To which the mob’s response is to walk away one at a time.

So what did Jesus actually write on the ground? The names of each person in the mob? Their individual sins? Jeremiah 17:13, followed by their names and sins? The word “forgiven”? Each guy’s honey-do list? (“You boys have a lot more productive things you could be doing right now!”)

Sometimes when someone asks a question, they aren’t really looking for an answer. Well, they are. It’s just that they’re looking for the right answer. For their answer. For the answer that serves their agenda.

To quote the best movie from one of the best franchises of all time:

It’s a trap!

Admiral Ackbar, Return of the Jedi