Just a couple of months ago, ’twas the season to be jolly.
Now ’tis the season to pay for all that jolliness, so some of us are dutifully walking, jogging, lifting and stretching in an effort to unearth the abs and buns of steel we desperately want to believe are hiding under there somewhere.
After a lifetime of joint-grinding sports, my options for getting aerobic exercise are more limited these days, but I am not without alternatives. If you’ve been to a gym recently, you know there are many torture devices…er, I mean exercise machines… available to help us get in touch with our inner skinny selves, no matter how far we’ve plunged into disrepair.
Before I ended up being such a sorry specimen, I didn’t need fancy-schmancy exercise equipment to keep me in shape. I’d just head for the tennis courts or go for a jog. But alas, my aching carcass has forced me to go high tech, so I now rely upon treadmills and elliptical machines to keep me from turning into the Hindenburg.
As I was working out the other day, it occurred to me that our ancestors would probably find modern exercise equipment quite bizarre. I’m guessing that folks who depended upon their own two feet or horses for transportation might think it was nuts to waste time walking on a treadmill that didn’t get them anywhere at all.
Life is different now, and since most of us aren’t out tromping through the woods to shoot our supper, hoeing acres of rocky soil, or hauling dirty laundry to the creek to beat it on rocks, we have to be intentional about exercise. Like some other aspects of modern life, exercise has become more complicated, especially for those of us whose bodies aren’t particularly cooperative.
I wish I could simply lace up my running shoes and head out the door to exercise, but I can’t, lest I jog my way right into more knee surgeries. So I adjust and adapt to this bit of complication.
Sometimes, though, even when we could choose to keep things simple, we unnecessarily complicate our lives — even, and maybe especially, our spiritual lives.
Back in Jesus’ day, the Pharisees made up hundreds of complex laws, well beyond what God had given, breaking the spiritual backs of all the regular folks who weren’t “religious professionals.” We’re in danger of doing the same thing today in many of our churches.
When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus didn’t recite a litany of nit-picky rules and regulations. He kept it simple: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” (Matthew 22:37), followed by a second command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:39)
Not complicated, but unquestionably deep, immensely challenging, and altogether impossible without the grace God imparts when we acknowledge Jesus Christ as our Savior and Lord.
Love God. Love others. Believe in Jesus. Do it purposefully, passionately, consistently, and joyfully. No need for legalism, no heart for disobedience.
I’ve resigned myself to the reality that physical fitness may always be a bit complicated for me as long as I reside in this body of mine. I embrace the reality that spiritual fitness doesn’t have to be.
“But I am afraid that, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, your minds will be led astray from the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ.” — 2 Corinth. 11:3