Beatitudes and Bagels

I have a class on Mondays and Wednesdays at 8 am. It is one of my favorite classes, Foundations of Christian Thought. My professor for that class, Jason Oakes, is an amazing man who has a very real passion for God and for students. He is a really great professor. The only oddity (so far) in Oakes is that he has expressed to us that there are two things that irk him in general for no obvious reasons: the first is that he hates seeing bare feet, and so as an extension he really does not appreciate flip-flops on anyone. The second is that it bothers him when students eat during his class.

This Monday morning I set my alarm for the excruciating time of 6:30 a.m.. One of those little optimistic efforts where I think, "look at all the things I could do with my mornings!" So when I turned my alarm off at 6:30 this morning, I immediately climbed back up (three cheers for lofts!) to make my bed, and, as you might expect, fell right back asleep. Fortuitously I awoke again at 7:15, which meant if I threw on some clothes ran out the door I would have time to grab some breakfast before class. So I attempted this, throwing on some jeans and a favorite t-shirt (my California t-shirt, courtesy of Robyn and Shelby :D ). Strangely, this ensemble did not work(very long t-shirt plus jeans that are a foot too long = "look, Caroline is even shorter than we had previously realized!"), so I had to switch jeans. I threw on some flip-flops and ran out the door, but turned around and came back in. My professor hates flip-flops. So I had to change shoes. Anyway, running a tad bit lower on time than I had hoped, I made the long trek across campus to class.

In the same building as my class is a little cafe called The Talon (go Biola eagles and all that). I had just enough time to grab some coffee. I determined to myself that I would not buy breakfast because I could not eat it in class. Eating bothers my professor. I was perfectly happy with this decision until I got in line at the Talon, and there, on the counter, was the most beautiful display of bagel sandwiches I had ever seen. They were everything bagels filled with egg and ham anointed with cheese. At this point a battle was waged. The very small, very reasonable part of my brain said, "Now, Caroline, you decided that you would just wait. You're not even that hungry, and you don't want to eat during class. Just buy your coffee and get to class." All the while the very large, very unreasonable side of my brain chorused, "LOOK AT THE SANDWICH! IT IS BEAUTIFUL! IT IS WARM! IT IS ALL YOU COULD EVER WANT IN A BREAKFAST! BUY IT NOW OR SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE REGRETTING THE JOY YOU HAVE MISSED!" So naturally I caved and bought the sandwich. Again fortuitously, when I got to class, Professor Oakes had not yet arrived, so I started in on my sandwich, nearly crying with delight. It was a wonderful sandwich. About three bites in I heard something behind me about an attendance sheet and realized the professor had arrived, so I hastily wrapped up my everything bagel sandwich and stuffed it is my purse, and spent the next two hours wondering every few minutes "Does something smell like onions? Oh yeah, me."

Now in light of my experience with the power of even slight hunger on my actions, a verse comes to mind. (This verse is in a section of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount called the Beatitudes. I have never really understood what a "beatitude" is. I always thought something like "beautiful attitude." I looked it up in the dictionary, and the definition it gave me was "supreme blessedness." So I was way off. Anyway.) The verse is Matthew 5:6, and it says, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled." What would it look like if I could hunger for righteousness more intensely than I do for any meal? And how amazing would it be to be filled up with righteousness--goodness, pure and just--more satisfying than even a bagel sandwich? The answer to this second question is, I'm sure, very very amazing indeed. And the answer to the first question? Well, I intend to find out by becoming that person. Wanna join me?

Truly His,
Caroline