We borrowed a dog. He needed a place to be for a while, and we could do it, so we did. As it turns out, he is two dogs in a single, small, short-legged, black-coated, old-man-faced package. One of his personalities is proof that humankind has kept canine companionship for thousands of years as an alert to approaching threats. Dogs have barked for as long as there are human records, in order to warn of invading marauders or skulking thieves. Our alarm-dog is also apparently bred to alert to flying insects and shifting winds. This personality emerges in a low growl carried by quick steps toward we-usually-know-not-what, when it becomes a persistent loud bark until the “threat is gone.” The second personality follows immediately on the first, and stays around until the first returns. It is in eyes searching for the slightest indication of our will, of our approval, and willing to follow every command at the least indication. A sweeter dog is hard to imagine.
We pursue so many important purposes. Jobs, holidays, chores, hobbies, visions, and duties fill our days with occasions to charge the fence-line, patrol the perimeter, keep the peace—genuinely important at times, seemingly so always. We fulfill that side of our personality with the enthusiasm and focus of a watchdog. We commit enthusiastically to one of Jesus’ answers to a question about inheriting eternal life. “You know the commandments: Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother” (Luke 18:20). We may even sell all we have and give it to the poor. And we undoubtedly return from our exploits with the chop-step confidence our borrowed dog brings when he has chased off the already-passing cyclist.
But Jesus gives the ultimate answer to the same question much earlier. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27). Our Father made us to love him, and to love each other. All else matters none if it doesn’t return to that.
To a week spending more time and effort fulfilling the purpose for which God created us than creating the noise which distracts everyone from it.