When the credits roll

Following Jesus is amazing. Not just talking ABOUT him and what he said and did thousands of years ago, but actually following him in a real and personal way, day in day out.

It's such a privilege.

At the same time, following Jesus is extremely difficult though... isn't it?

Denying yourself...
Humbling yourself...
Over and over again...
So that OTHERS might be blessed... it's no small task.

I feel like you can break down the christian "conversion" experience into two broad categories or phases. The first one is the one we hear about all the time. The good stuff. The gospel message of Jesus Christ dying to make all things right. It's applicable to every human being who ever was and ever will be. The cross resonates with all of humanity because their is an internal sense in all of us that we are broken. That brokenness is undeniable across the entire world and all throughout history. It might not be the exact feeling or process of restoration with every person who has responded to this gospel, but universally it carries the same effect and tone.

I was lost and now I'm found.

This is the stuff we like. It really is good news! It draws humanity in, and when it's understood, it almost seems too good to be true. When we realize the consequences for our decisions and our sins, when we actually feel the weight of it and realize that something can be done beyond us to change that... well, there really are no words to describe it.

We use the word GRACE, and it truly is amazing.

When we realize this grace, we're stuck with questions like...

"How could this actually be?I'm so undeserving!"
"How could anyone love me like this, let alone the creator of all things?"

We can feel perplexed, and although we don't understand it all, we are captivated and drawn in by the sheer madness of a kind of love that can actually make us whole.

The second phase I feel like is realized by many but partaken in by very few. This is the phase when you realize that the reconciliation you've experienced, the one that took your breath away and swept you off your feet, isn't intended for a solitary moment of awe and wonder. When we see that the price Jesus paid wasn't JUST TO GET US OUT OF THE DOGHOUSE. It's easy to treat that moment of Jesus on the cross as the POINT of everything.

Like we were created just so we could be forgiven.

We want to treat that moment like we want to savor that last scene in any cheesy romantic comedy we watch where the guy travels across the country, drops everything in his life and professes his love in front of a full airport terminal. The girl is faced with a choice, and we marvel and wait on the edge our seat as she decides on whether or not she accepts. The moment she does, he sweeps her off her feet, they lock lips and everyone sighs and reaches for the conveniently placed handkerchief to wipe away the tears of joy.

Love isn't really like this, though.

Well, at least for me anyways, it hasn't been.

You never get to see reality in these movies - the time when these same two characters that are in that moment caught in the middle of a fairytale are later arguing on where to go to dinner on their anniversary and it turns into a massive fight and they spend it alone. The time when the mortgage looms insurmountably and there isn't enough funds in the bank account to cover it. The time when the guy is sick of taking out the trash and the girl is tired of being overlooked by football.

Reality doesn't crescendo the way we'd like life to.

Maybe I'm bitter or jaded, but I've never made out with a girl in an airport terminal. I've never even come close to anything like that. I came close once to dropping everything in my life and driving 18 hours to profess my love to a girl. I was visiting my sister in Florida during thanksgiving and thought I had met the girl of my dreams. She was gorgeous, smart, said all the right things and I was smitten. I asked my sister if I could borrow her car to drive interstate so I could lay it all out on the line. I imagined showing up to this girls house, pulling up her driveway, getting out of the car and spewing out my feelings for her on her victorian style porch. I imagined her being breathless and having her welcome me in for left over turkey with her family. I'd seen scenes like this in countless movies, so I started telling myself that it's MY time. Time for MY dreams to come true. In the end though, I didn't go. I held back and played it cool. I decided against it and no gas station encounter in the rain was had. Nothing to write home about.

I'm still waiting for that "moment" I suppose.

The disappointment caused by these moments, or lack thereof, makes me wonder things like what if I wait for a while for it to "happen" to me and it never does? What if I fantasize about it for so long that I miss what's happening right in front of me? I start to wonder if I'll be able to survive life without the dream of being wrapped up in something so grand like that.

Like what I see in the movies.

I'm starting to see my relationship with Jesus in a really similar way. This second phase I mentioned is not really like the first phase at all. I desperately want it to be though. I want to have Jesus sweep me off my feet and to feel like everything will be ok again. I want to feel like I did when I was 13 and opened my heart to him for the first time. When I realized that God was the father I SOOOO desperately had been craving my whole life. I want that moment to be played over and over again, to just keep hitting rewind on the remote control of my life.

I like that moment. I long for that moment. Not just a memory, but as something that I still want more of... because that moment is a good one. It was real then. It meant something then and somehow now it feels like a fantasy, all in the same breath. I want that moment much more than the moment I'm having right now. The moment I'm in right now doesn't feel anything like that moment, or the many other one's I've had where I was in awe of the grace of God. This moment right now feels...

Well it feels boring to be honest.

It feels boring and at the same time I feel overwhelmed by it all. A weird paradox of being overwhelmed by the nothingness of life. These moments are the ones that scare us away from continuing on in this "conversion" experience, this second phase. It's what we do after the airport terminal scene that scares us more than the lead up to that moment. What do we do when life is "normal" again?

Terrifying thought really.

You see Jesus does call us into this grand, sweeping, epic masterpiece. The first phase is that EPIC. And well, the second phase is too, but it doesn't always feel that way. It's because the second is less about the "moment" of finding Jesus and more about the journey of following him.

Jesus on the cross is what we want to see right before the end of the movie.That moment is something we long for because we all need it. We all need and long for that kind of love.

Following Jesus is different than falling in love with him though. Following him requires a lot more commitment. Jesus teaching us how to love our enemies and have unity amongst those in our church. Jesus telling us to turn the other cheek. Jesus telling us to sell everything we own. Jesus telling us to be generous until it hurts. Jesus asking us to deny ourselves daily and follow his example of complete sacrifice and surrender.

We treat these things like the monotonous bit we walk out of during the credits after the movie is over. It's sad though because the people making the film are the one's that deserve the credit for what we just enjoyed, but rarely do they get the acknowledgment they deserve.

The key grips, the best boy grips, the dolly grips, the caterers, the prop directors, the sound engineers... you know, the one's who actually make the magic happen.

Without them, there is no story. And without doing the things Jesus calls us to in following him, there is no REAL story. Not according to Jesus anyways. Hitting the rewind button on him on the cross over and over just isn't what he had in mind.

I've been observing a lot of heartache and distress in many of the marriages around me. I'm sure that these current marriages aren't any different than one's I was around when I was younger. I guess I am just much more aware of the "realness" involved in cleaving to another human being for the rest of your life.

At 27 years old, its staring to feel like I am becoming a endangered species amongst my closest friends that I grew up with. I am on the "never married" list, and there doesn't seem to be many others there with me. The funny thing though is that I don't actually long for it like I used to. I don't wake up feeling like I'm missing out on the most important thing in the universe by not being married right now. Don't get me wrong, a LARGE part of me deep downs wants to wake up tomorrow and have another warm body laying next to me, but the last 2 years have opened my eyes hugely to the calamity that is marriage.

Many divorces, much more than I'd like to cope with, have gone down with some of my closest friends in the world. Many other marriages seem to be hanging on by a thread. All my married friends and family tell me, in great detail, how difficult it really is to walk this thing out.

They also tell me how worth it is...well some of them do anyways. Some of them don't even have to tell me in words how worth it it is - the beautiful children running around laughing and singing make it painfully clear.

It's super obvious to me now that the pain in marriage can produce some of the most beautiful things imaginable.
It's also super obvious to me that the pain in marriage can also be unbearable.

The thing i'm trying to convince myself of more than anything else is that following Jesus is worth it. Not just worth it when I feel like it, though. Telling him I love him when he's removed the boulder crushing the life out of me isn't really all that difficult. Telling him I love him when he asks me to forgive that person who consistently hurts me is another story.

I don't want to fall in love with Jesus in the airport terminal and not still be in love with him 20 years later when I need to take the trash to the end of the driveway at midnight.

I want him to know that once everyone else has left the theater and there is no one else around that I'll be there to clean up all the popcorn on the floor and scrape the used bubble gum from under the seats.

I want to treat the MOMENT of HIM accepting ME the way it deserves to be treated. Treat it like it demands a life long covenant of being faithful to him no matter what happens.

I want to let that commitment produce beautiful things in my life that would not be possible on my own.
I want him to know that I'm in for the long haul not just because it's the "right" thing to do...

But just because I love him.