That’s my new favorite prayer. I’ve been using it a lot lately. I see the temptation coming and I start laughing and pray, “Oh, Jesus, I’m gonna get creamed!” And that invites Him in. And it’s working.
So here’s how I learned it.
About a week ago I met my friend, Pastor E, for coffee. As we were talking, a woman entered the shop, I think spotted him, and took a table about ten feet directly in front of the club chair in which my friend was sitting. He was immediately distracted by her (I was turned in such a way that she was only in the corner of my eye, and for some reason she didn’t present a temptation for me).
I don’t know that she ever made eye contact or even looked over at him, but she knew she had his attention. As she did her paperwork, she kept sucking on the tip of one finger. She dropped things onto the floor directly in his direction a couple of times, bending over in her chair in such a way that her sweater fell open (as she kept her chin lifted and pretended to crack her neck). There were other sorts of bait that she used that were exactly perfect for my friend, but I don’t want to give him away by saying what they were. Suffice it to say that he was a very distracted conversationalist, and he had a very hard time making eye contact with me as we spoke.
After about half an hour, the woman packed up her things, climbed into her Jeep, and drove away.
“See how God likes to screw with me?” He said as soon as he could shift his focus back to me. “Tell me that wasn’t too perfect a temptation.”
“How is that God screwing with you?” I asked.
“He wants to show me what a bad person I am.”
I was already laughing, as I had been for most of the time she’d been in the coffee shop, at how completely he got his ass kicked by the temptation. It was such a lopsided fight that he never had a chance, and had no business acting like he could win it.
“Great, now my spiritual mentor is laughing because he thinks this is such a riot.” He said.
There were two other club chairs across from us. He could have moved. But mostly he could have remembered that Jesus was sitting right there with us as the woman (I’m laughing typing this because it really was so funny watching him get knocked around by the temptation – and I’m pretty sure Jesus was laughing, too) trolled with her bait for my friend.
“Man,” I said, “Your salvation is secure. And you didn’t talk to her. That moment of temptation is past, and now you’ll have to decide if you let your memory make another temptation out of it – I mean, she can sure as heck beat your ass again later just like she did now if you let her – but all that you really missed out on was the opportunity to engage Jesus. And me. You were distracted from both of us, and I knew exactly what was going on, and -” I started laughing here loudly enough that people at nearby tables started to take notice, “Dude, you got wasted!”
What my friend could have done was been honest about the temptation that walked in, sat down in his line of sight, and spent half and hour sucking her fingertip in between dropping things on the floor. He could have admitted that she was going to clean his clock, and he could have simply prayed, “Oh man, Jesus – I’m gonna get my ass kicked!” It’s not like his weakness was going to stun Jesus. It’s not like Jesus was going to be angry about having to interrupt some Heavenly board meeting to shoot down to the coffee shop in Indianapolis where his jerk follower was screwing up. He was already right there, and is always right there, and is always mighty to save. And it’s not like the temptation or the demon or whatever it is can ever be more than a flea to the Lord. “Oh man, Jesus – I’m gonna get my ass kicked!” Is probably a prayer, especially when offered in laughter and confidence that Jesus is right there, that gets a laughing response and a “no shit!” So don’t fight – let Him.
I’m pretty sure that’s what abiding means. At least it’s what it’s meant to me lately. I want to look at the dynamics of the prayer and the realities of our living in faith a little closer, but first, take a minute and see what a lopsided fight looks like. As you watch, think of my friend as Eriq in this video. Think of the MMA fighter as the temptation. Think of the victim as the child-like portion of my friend that gets wounded by the tyranny of his bullying tough Christian self. And in some ways, you can see the host of the show, Mayhem, as Jesus.
Did you watch?
Eriq had no business getting in the ring with the MMA guy (love that his name is Man of Faith), right?
My friend had no business thinking he could be tougher than the temptation that swished her way into the coffee shop.
My friend still doesn’t think losing the other day was funny. I’ve urged him to watch this video, though, because…well, it really was. He came in thinking he was gonna “spit some hot fire” like Mayhem joked. Wrong.
How do you think the victim, Linda, felt toward Eriq and the end of the episode? It could just be me, and the fact that I know a lot of weird and broken people, but I think I made some comment about them spending intimate time together within hours of the end of that show being recorded. To me, it sure looked like Linda wanted Eriq to be hers – that maybe she even loved him.
Setting my friend and the people from the show aside for a paragraph, within me there is still a child self – a self that wants security, tenderness, freedom, and to be protected. I think that’s where my drive for justice lives, too. That portion of myself longs to be healed and whole and to not be scared. And the biggest threat to that portion of myself is the macho bully self – calling itself the adult portion of who I am – that insists I can take on any temptation. I’ve heard it said that to err is human, but to keep doing it is just stupid. My bully self is stupid, and each time that portion of who I am takes a beatdown without learning a lesson, the bully grows, becomes meaner and more scared, and the child portion of myself gets driven further into the dark and painful corners of my soul. My child self will only find security, freedom and joy as the adult side of me learns humility, and learns which rings are simply more than I have any business entering on my own. And my adult self will only find true strength as I learn how to win battles by making honest assessment of my situations and turning to Christ so that the child in me can be safe, free and the delight I’ve been created to be and to know.
So, back to the video. The MMA guy with the nickname “Man of Faith.” Good guy or bad guy? For Eriq, as a bully, he was bad news. For Linda, the victim, he represented the tool that could teach the man she loved and wanted to be with some humility – which she needed Eriq to learn so they could have relationship.
For my friend, the temptation that the woman at the coffee shop represented. Good guy or bad? Depends on what the bully in my friend chooses to take away from his experience. And – and this is critical – how he chooses to hear and see the actions and motivations of Jesus (portrayed as Mayhem in the video). Was Mayhem pursuing Eriq’s destruction, or giving him a reality check in love for the sake of offering him a better way to live? I get that in the actual show, it was about something more commercial than all of this, but in Eriq’s life, what did Mayhem actually stand for? I think Mayhem was a benevolent influence in Eriq’s life if he allows the experience to teach him an important lesson. I know Jesus is.
My friend left his coffee shop octagon fight with no cash. But will you join me in hoping and praying that he moves towards seeing that God doesn’t delight in screwing with him. That in fact God was right there with us, and that at any moment my friend could have used my new favorite prayer (and I hope yours) and laughingly called out, “Oh man, Jesus – I’m gonna get my ass kicked!”
