(b) in Parenthesis: "It's unlikely that I will make apologetics for my actions."

What’s the chance that world hunger is erradicated by the end of the day? Unlikely.

What's the chance that world peace is realized by 2012? Unlikely.

What’s the chance that the Messiah has already arrived? Unlikely.

What’s the chance that millions of people are reading this right now? Unlikely.

We arguably live in a time when we allow things that can happen and that are happening to be defined by the most unlikely influences:

Republican or Democrat
Wikipedia or Wikileaks
X, Y or Z blog
Fox News or CNN
Glenn Beck or Wolf Blitzer
Old or New Testament
Nachos or quinoa

So, whom should you believe? A little unlikely history might offer illumination to the “idiocy” we should assign to believing anyone. Imagine that:

You are a Jew living in Egypt under the harsh rule of Pharaoh during the 400^th year of enslavement. An old guy in a threadbare robe, carrying a gnarled wooden walking stick, sporting a white beard and stuttering, rumored to be a murderer, stumbles into the community. It’s the end of another typical day of molding and schlepping bricks, heat exhaustion, lashings and general humiliation. He delivers the following news, while a satisfying camel dung fire crackles in the distance.

“Here’s the deal: I just had a chat with a flaming shrub the other day that told me he was God, and I am glad to give you the good nnnnnnnews; I have been chosen tttttttto rescue you from captivity. That’s right, we’re going to walk out of here and take a long walk to our own land. Yyyyyyyep, being that we are God’s chosen people (something about a deal he made with some distant relative of mine, Abe something-or-other), he’s locked up some property on the other side of the desert and we’ll bbbbbbe manufacturing and distributing organic milk and honey products to make a living. So, I am going to ask Pharaoh to let you go, and he’ll gggggo for it.

Now for the bad news: as you can tell I have a bbbbbbbit of a speech impediment, I’m very old, can barely walk with these corns, I have no idea what I am going to say when I talk to Pharaoh, I’ll have to repeat my sales pitch numerous times, there’s going to be some really lousy plagues and I am cccccclueless as to why I have to carry this really heavy stick everywhere that I go.

Oh, and did I tell you that once we get to the new neighborhood, we’re going to have to defeat some really tttttall enemies and other tribes who currently own the land?”

If you were there at that time, would you have gleefully rushed to your tent to gather your matzos and get ready to hit the sand? Unlikely.

Now, fast forward +/- a few thousand years to somewhere in the “promised land” the Israelites would actually inherit. There’s a new rabbi in town that’s stirring up the dust, flipping over tables by the temple and breaking bread with hookers, thieves, lawyers and lepers. This rabbi-rouser named Jesus is from Nazareth, and we all know that there’s nothing good about anything that comes from that town. He’s claiming that he is God’s only son, performing some pretty cool tricks and is conducting free healing clinics with a dozen guys, most of whom smell like fish. Even though you’re convinced he’s been smoking too much myrrh, you have to admit that he’s gathering throngs of people everywhere he goes, AND there’s endless supplies of free bread and fish served for lunch.

The local Pharisees and Sadducees are up in robes about this guy who has the audacity to claim that you can experience all of God’s love and every blessing under the chuppah (a Hebrew canopy); all you have to do is accept that He is who He says He is, say you’re sorry for your donkey sack full of screw-up’s, love each other like he is loving you and follow him towards a new way of living by grace. You’ve just heard him describe this all in detail with some attitude from atop a beautiful mount. Even though you’ve heard that the other rabbis and “sees” were using every trick in the Torah to prove him a heretic, you have to admit you are stoked about what sounds like some really good news.

And then it happens. Jesus walks past your house and knocks at the front door. You answer, amazed to have the man of the hour himself address you with the following offer:

“If you will follow me, I promise you the boundless gifts of heaven here on earth, and then eternal life in the glory of God, my Father. All you have to do is give everything you own away to poor people and hungry little kids, forget your family, leave home without any food or provisions, walk endless miles to places in which you’d never be caught dead, share this good news about me and my Father. You need to love everyone you meet unconditionally while being scorned, chased, flogged, abandoned, shipwrecked, imprisoned, stoned and finally hanged, beheaded or crucified. And, you have to leave with me right now. Are you in?”

If you were there at that time, would you have gleefully rushed out the door and walked in the dust from his sandals? Unlikely.

What about today? Right now? Would you believe him? Would you go? Unlikely.

Here’s what’s likely:

We go to work every day, many of us disliking what we do.
We go to our places of worship, listen to gifted teachers, hurt when we hear stories of suffering, praise God for our blessings, tithe sometimes, and then walk past the destitute person asking for change or the man on the corner with a sign reading, “Fallen on hard times. Homeless. Needing any help. God bless.”
We spend countless hours complaining and arguing about the political situation in Washington, contribute to the candidate du jour and say nothing to the young man or woman in uniform sitting next to you on the plane to thank them for fighting and dying for freedom in the world.
We say that we believe in the gospels of the Old and New Testament, but 93% of us have never read the books from cover to cover.
We are all broken, scared sinners and people who are starving to be seen, known and loved.

I make no apologies for the fact that I am no better than anyone else who is struggling with the ways to be the best version of myself. And, I have come to know for sure that I am desperately in need of grace and that I am the unlikeliest candidate to receive the gifts of love from a loving God who continues to love me just the way I am.