thwack!

About a week ago I came across this guy's blog and was sucked in. Go over to So I Go and check it out. He's writing a "novel" of sorts about his adventures with the modern-day Jesus in his head. In the meantime, the following is an excerpt of Chapter 11. It "smacked me upside the head," that's for sure!

And so it is in the days and weeks of wonder that follow that I start to see with my own eyes the indescribable handiwork of a Jesus that doesn't always respond to the invitations I send to him. It seems much more like him to invite me into all that he's been doing and to cajole me into doing it with him. So that I can learn all about his rhythm.

And that is why when he gets on his Harley and he rides away from my minivan on that day in that dream, I sit in the front seat with my seatbelt on and I think a lot about his view. What does he see that I can't? What does community look like for him in all of its raw humanity? Why did he want me to move into this neighborhood and this old porn theater and be around these poor people with all of their messiness and their filth and foul as they live in their muck and mire? Does he have to wash his hands as often as I do, or does he just keep them dirty?

I want to know about his view of the world because my world view with my clean hands is growing exceedingly small and uncomplicated. I'm not talking about my political leanings or my thoughts about global warming or events developing this very moment across the planet. I mean my actual view.

I peer out of the window of my comfortable home as my children play with other children just like them in the cul-de-sac of my town in my day. I look into the rear-view mirror of my comfortable minivan and see the faces of my beautiful family looking back at me. I gaze out the window of my 3rd floor office as the leaves turn magnificent colors. I spend an awful lot of time making sure my view is just so.

I look through my looking glass at all that's healthy and all that I'm entitled to. And then some. That's my view of the world on this very day.

And so I begin to hope beyond all hope that when the wrestling match is coming to a close someday and I'm all out of strength, that I will find myself sharing his view. And that I will have eyes to see what he does and ears to hear what he does and hands to work with him. And that my feet will choose to walk where he does. Because if I'm going to follow him and really mean it, it just makes sense, doesn't it?

And so it is, in another scene of another act in the play that that's writing me now, that the main character has a confrontation with his mysterious new Jesus. The one he has been waiting for and the one that he'll finally cast in his beloved production.

Porter: Who are you?

Jesus: Who do you think I am?

Porter: I don't know.

Jesus: You've been searching for Jesus, haven't you?

Porter: Yes.

Jesus: Studying him, right?

Porter: Yes, but...

Jesus: Well then, what did you think might happen when you looked for Him?

Porter: I'm not sure.

Jesus: If you seek...

Porter: You will find.

Jesus: You've been seeking...

Porter: Yes, but...

Jesus: You found him.

But the point of all of this is that it takes him a while to cast the right Jesus. He messes up a lot getting to that place and he keeps casting the wrong kind of Jesus in his play.

Right about now, Auditioning Jesus is starting to fade away as an end to our means. And a casting of Jesus becomes our means to an end.

And this life imitating art stuff is smackin' me upside the head again.

THWACK! Did you feel that?

GULP! I just swallowed a heavy dose of conviction! Incredible! Really! I couldn't have said it better myself! So often we try to fit him into OUR plans when really it's about him inviting us into HIS!