
Janet B. Villa
Manila, Philippines
Living, it seems, is not about my comfort or prosperity, which are the world’s hallmarks of success. It’s got to be something bigger than that. It’s got to be indestructible, immutable, more enduring than that.
I remember this story of a Roman soldier, drowning in sorrow, who asked Caesar for permission to commit suicide. Caesar answered, “But when have you really been alive?”
I’ve been mulling over this story, especially in the ordinariness of my days, wondering if I have been “really alive” when I haven’t been doing anything grand. I remember two things:
First, St. Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is a person fully alive.” God is invested in my coming alive. He is honored when I live.
Second, Jesus said, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10b). John’s gospel uses the word life 36 times, more than any other book in the bible. It was important to him—to us—that we understand.
God’s offer is life. That isn’t as simple as it sounds. What does it mean, really? And particularly to me and where I am? As I edit an errant paragraph, peel tissue off the bathroom floor, and look for missing Dora the Explorer slippers, where in these is the abundant life promised to me?
My life hasn’t been easy, which is why I never interpreted Irenaeus’ statement to mean a sunshiny meadow where birds burst into song. I knew pain would be my constant companion; these days, in fact, highlight that. My college friend, Marissa, reminded me sometime ago that you and I and everyone’s brother have problems; it is only the degree and kind that differ.
It is hard to see where in the blur of my days I can come alive. Jesus—the Standard who became human, who was one of us, who declared he is Life—how did he live? Towards the end of his earthly life, he declared to God that he had glorified God by his own life. What kind of life was it?
He was—
Busy: He rose before the sun, before anyone else.
Besieged: People mobbed him. Rest was elusive.
Broke: He didn’t own anything. He sent his friends out with “no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic.”
Broken: He pleaded for Abba Father to take the cup of suffering away.
Burdened: He wept openly for me, for humankind.
Betrayed: Someone he loved chose silver over him.
Brutalized: His flesh was torn by those he loved and died for.
The norm is to suffer. Because I, with my fallen nature, live in a fallen world, any goodness I enjoy comes only by the grace of God. When David cried out, “I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living” (Psalm 27:13), he was besieged by his enemies and surrounded by the wicked seeking to “devour” him. His life, too, had been pockmarked with days of trouble.
Living, it seems, is not about my comfort or prosperity, which are the world’s hallmarks of success. It’s got to be something bigger than that. It’s got to be indestructible, immutable, more enduring than that.
A full life in the midst of trouble needs to be inspired—from the Latin “inspirare,” which means “breathed into.” Being fully alive begins with being breathed into by the One who created Life, thus: “Breathe on me, O Breath of Life.” I am breathed into so I may enter into the finest moments and, yes, even the biggest heartbreaks where the Light shines brightest.
Being fully alive means I live fully aware that death has no power over me. Yet the promise is of something bigger than life beyond this earth. The Syriac version of John’s phrase “abundant life” talks about “something more abundant” than life.
What is promised is eternal life, commonly interpreted to mean immortality, but more accurately interpreted as knowing Jesus. He knew what it was to be fully human, to be fully alive. He wasn’t a “distant deity.” My eternal life—entering into the presence of Jesus—begins today, not after death. It is a heart and spirit abundance, which outweighs bounty.
Real living happens in the indwelling of Jesus: Life in the Logos, Life in the Word. Glory inhabits me even when my life includes scraped knees, real estate taxes and burnt potatoes.
Being fully alive means that God is enough. Everything else is a bonus.