An Interjection

(Below is the first entry by my best friend and co-conspirator, JD.  We've been friends since our very early childhood and I think the world of him.  This is a conversation that wouldn't be where it is without his support and input.  He's been gracious enough to join me as a contributor to this venue. Enjoy his courageously honest account. Godspeed.)

I’d like to begin my interjection by saying that I am so excited to be on this journey. The discussions that I’ve found myself in lately have taken a long-needed turn from cynical to hopeful, due largely to the seriousness with which Jon and I have begun moving past angst and frustration into a process of dreaming with the expectation of acting.

With that sentiment serving to foreshadow the present, I’d like to share about a prolonged season of fear, insecurity, and judgment in my past, often expressed through cynicism, that characterized my engagement with church until recently (and that I still struggle with at times).


Protecting a Status Quo (I didn’t believe in)

I’ve grown up in church, so consequently I’ve sung lots (and lots and lots) of songs about giving my all to God. These are scary songs to take seriously. And I’m realizing as I look back that I have a dirty, twisted subconscious at times. And it has long been working overtime to try and convince my conscious self that I can mean those kinds of words from those kinds of songs without it costing me much.

Put another way, I wanted abundant life that fit perfectly into my world, providing meaning and substance with all the comforts of a self-centered existence.

The most amazing thing about this rationalization is how much it bothered me when I saw it in other Christians. I was somehow able to hate that the church is known for what it’s against rather than what it’s for, all while being against that kind of church and without figuring out what I’m for. I was able to judge Christians for an inwardly focused, self-serving church life without looking for opportunities in my own life to look outward or to serve others. It is amazing what I am able to accomplish when left alone in my mind.

Working to Fix the Mess of Church (as a way of distracting myself from the mess in my heart)

I know faith in Jesus is supposed to cost us everything this world has to offer, and I see now that I have long projected my fear of losing everything onto a church that is sometimes slow to model this way of life. I am coming to understand that much of my anger toward the church was my not wanting to grow up and take ownership for my own faith. I guess I was thinking that if I could just fix church enough, maybe then it could help me lay everything down without it feeling so hard.

Because I don’t want this to be hard for me. I’ve been hoping the church would just do the work for me so I could ride on its coattails.


The Fear of Losing (that which I perceive to be valuable)

The idea of surrendering the things about my life that I know are good (in faith that God has what is best) is still scary to me.

This fear of loss does not make me unique. In fact, it is an incredibly human way to think. As Donald Miller recently wrote in his second blog in a series on commercialism and the church (donmilleris.com)

"Advertisers often play on something psychologists call Loss Aversion. Loss Aversion is an aspect of Prospect Theory, a theory that seeks to determine why people make certain decisions. Loss Aversion suggests people are more motivated to avoid losing something than they are to acquire something new...


...[And] it isn’t only advertisers who play on this psychological phenomenon, it’s politicians and talk-show hosts and nearly anybody trying to convince anybody of anything. How many times have you heard the phrase “take back our country” or, within the church “take a stand for Biblical theology” or this kind of language. The idea is to convince a group of people they are losing ground. This creates a powerful response in whatever demographic feels like they are losing something. Environmentalist motivate us by emphasizing the loss of physical paradise, and the conservative right motivates us by emphasizing a loss of freedom. Regardless of where you stand, we can all agree these are powerful motivating forces."


The Turning Point!


(Or, the place where truth comes in and changes everything.)


(Or, where cynicism turns to hope.)


(Or, where suffering becomes joy.)

As I have looked in the mirror and investigated that which I’ve struggled with for years now, the flaw in my way of thinking about life, about gain, and about loss, is becoming more and more apparent.

Because here is the truth: That which I stand to lose… is nothing.

It is dust. It can be eaten by rust and moths. In a world where God is real and forever, it has a value of 0.

Inversely of course, that which I stand to gain… is everything.

In fact, God has already given it all freely, so the question is really more about how much of it I will choose to accept and experience in this life. Literally everything of any substantive meaning or importance that can ever be given or received has been given to me, and it is mine.

I have nothing to lose.

I’m beginning to believe that my stuff is nothing compared to the field with buried treasure under it. I’m beginning to think that I would gladly give up my status and importance for the one pearl of great value. My safety, my comfort, my health... the whole of them is not worth protecting for one tenth of one percent of that which I have and cannot lose, but could taste more fully in this life if I would just have faith that God is who He says He is.

That is why I am excited. Because I am becoming less of a cynic asking questions out of frustration and hopelessness. Instead, in relationship with Jon and others, I am now asking questions out of a hopeful and expectant anticipation of change.

Whatever is coming, I expect it to come at what the world would call great cost.

And I expect it to be worth it a thousand times over.