"So the last will be first, and the first will be last."
- Matthew 20:16
Sometimes, I have this itchy thought. I have a lot of itchy thoughts about things I know nothing about, like why there is pain, stuff like that. I never really want to scratch those ones. And I don't want to mess with this thought either. Which is why I'll write about it and then forget about it for the rest of my life.
I only ever referred to that verse up there when I was a sore loser and I felt like telling the winner that they're going to get their comeuppance some day in the future. I don't think I really believed it though. I had sour grapes. Lots of tart, sour grapes.
I wonder though, in Christian life, whether that is true. I mean, we say "everyone's a sinner," but do we really believe it? Do we really believe the last will be first, and the first will be last?
Intrinsically, I love to compare myself with others and say, "That person only comes out to church once a week. I come out more than that. I must be a better person. Therefore, God must love me more."
And I don't get what that verse above actually means, but the way I interpret it now, I will definitely not be first.
One story that pops into my head is that of Darwin's supposed deathbed acceptance of Christ. Honestly, I thought this was a big deal when I was in high school. I mean, what better way to debunk evolution than to say that its founder switched over from the dark side?*
But as I look at this story, I wonder if people like Darwin will be the first in heaven. The murderers; the ones that you react with a gasp to when you hear they got second chances. The serial killers who accepted Christ right before they are electrocuted and you think how unfair it is that they got that chance.
I wonder if the first will not be people like I am: the faithful Christian. I wonder.. if I live seventy years as a faithful Christian, I would expect something extravagant for myself in heaven (and there is merit to the thought that we will receive our heavenly treasures when we die - Matthew 6:19-21). And so I endure the pain now, and I tell myself it's worth it.
But I think for myself, and perhaps a lot of other people, we take so much stock in this idea of delayed gratification. To be honest, I think we're receiving a lot of the benefit of what we expect later now. And there's more, but we don't even appreciate what we already have. Living every day with Christ dwelling within us for seventy years... how's that for a thought instead of seventy years of living a painful Christian life? Life is already joyful (though yes, again, I'm sure it'll be even more so in heaven).
"Yes, Jesus did, as Paul says, die for our sins, but his whole agenda of dealing with sin and all its effects and consequences was never about rescuing individual souls from the world but about saving humans so that they could become part of his project of saving the world. "My kingdom is not from this world," he said to Pilate; had it been, he would have led an armed resistance movement like other worldly kingdom-prophets. But the kingdom he brought was emphatically for this world, which meant and means that God has arrived on the public stage and is not about to leave it again; he has thus defeated the forces both of tyranny and of chaos—both of shrill modernism and of fluffy postmodernism, if you like—and established in their place a rule of restorative, healing justice, which needs translating into scholarly method if the study of the Gospels is to do proper historical, theological and political justice to the subject matter."
- N.T. Wright
I think this is interesting. If we knew that God has arrived and isn't about to leave, and that the victory is already won, why do we struggle so much? It's an awesome privilege just to be part of the mission. The pain we face is infinitely worth it - because we face it as God's arms encircle us. Isn't that something for instant (but maybe not very tangible) gratification?
*As a disclaimer, I don't really care about the whole creationism vs. evolution thing. It wrapped up so much of my thoughts in high school. But my faith doesn't hinge on one small debate anymore. Faith like that isn't worth having. I have faith in a relationship.
I think it legitimately made me sad that we were ending LIFE group today. Thoughts of all the talks we could have had, time we could have spent better together, love we could have shared with each other.. it just made me sad.
And I don't want to just be sentimental. I really did take this past year for granted. I've learned some of the biggest lessons of my life. I think it hit me that I love these people if even only a little (with my hard hard heart).
I want to learn to love, to pour it out. I know we have this tradition here where upperclassmen buy underclassmen meals with no demand but to "pass it on." I like it. We should love the same way. Pay it forward.
God loved us first. Jesus died for us first. It's just a little hard to pass it on, that's all. But nothing that can't be overcome with the change that the Holy Spirit works in our hearts. (And I hate talking about the Holy Spirit because sometimes the statements seem so hazy and vague and intangible, but it is true. I changed; people are changed by the Spirit).
Learning to love. 1% of the way there.
I grew up thinking I was an extrovert. Part of the reason was that when I was very young, my sister introduced me to Myers-Briggs tests, and I took a couple of them. They always had questions like "Do you like being with people?" or things like that. And as a young child, I thought it would be good to fudge my answers and say, "Yes, I do derive my energy from being with people." I also wanted my personality type to be an "E" instead of an "I"... "E" for excellent, "I" for incomplete!
But anyway. Recently, we had to investigate our personalities to understand team dynamics for my summer job as an orientation leader, and I think I fudged my answers again and ended up with an "E." Then we had a session and someone explained about each aspect of a personality type, and I am thoroughly convinced that I am an "I": introvert.
So let's make that clear. Chris is an introvert.
Where this all comes into life is that I am not that big of a fan of meeting people. Although I derive so much comfort from being around people I am comfortable with, putting myself out there and talking with people drains me like... like... like a toilet flush (insert appropriate metaphor).
Every time I muster up the energy to step out the door and share a meal with someone, it's like walking to the doctor's office to get a shot. The anticipation kills. It feels like it's going to be excruciatingly painful for some reason. It's always better than I expect it to be though. My dread is always ridiculously dramatic compared to the actual time of the injection (or the time spent having a conversation with someone).
I think it's just that I hate small talk. I don't enjoy at all the 10 minutes spent on:
"How was your day?"
"How is studying going?"
(in honor of exams week)
"When are you leaving?"
(in honor of the end of the school year)
etc...
But by the time I get warmed up to the conversation, it's been an hour and I sit there for another hour just talking, twiddling my thumbs, listening, and just basking in the joy that this person is a person and so am I, and that we're just there for each other, willing to listen and share. I know by the time the waiter brings the check around that this relationship is valuable.
No, beyond valuable. I mean invaluable. Priceless.
So it is with prayer, too. I dread walking to prayer times. It just seems absurd. Then by the end of however long I pray, so many times I filled and replenished with new hope for the day, in spite of my pessimism. Introvert or not, people are important. God is important. Relationships are important. Love is important.
(And though I write this, I admit in all hypocrisy that I've not taken time out to pray today. And I don't feel like it right now, either. I feel like napping.)
I hate taking energy out for people, yet it's definitely worth taking the time out to warm up to the relationships I cannot live without.
"When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city..."
- My Chemical Romance, "Welcome to the Black Parade"
(That was random. I only mentioned it because I started writing about when I was younger and that song just popped into my head.)
My dad did take me into the city, though, and a lot more. Sometimes I got spanked at home because I was a bad boy. I never failed to cry. But I would always start crying before I even got spanked. It's really weird.
And it made me think today, why it is that children cry when they get spanked. Is it because of the pain of the spank or just the fact that they are enduring disapproval from their parents?
I'd like to think I had a high pain tolerance, so I'm going to say that I cried because I was ashamed, not because it hurt.
I'm remembering times when I got in arguments or fights with my parents, and my mom or dad would just be really disappointed in me and how they would just sit in silence and wait for me to come apologize to them (or spank me, at least when I was younger). A lot of times I would start out fuming, wondering how they had the audacity to wait for me to apologize first, but I wouldn't be able to take the tension. Most of the times I gave in first (perhaps 49 out of 50 times).
And I know that everytime I went back to say sorry, I would end up crying. And I have no idea why. I would be like, "I'm sorry, blubber blubber blubber blubber..."
Repentance is tough, isn't it? And I really missed having a joyful, tension-less relationship with my parents. For the couple of hours each feud lasted, I would always be in complete agony, like I was missing a part of my soul. And it would be so hard for me to go back and have that heart of humility, but every single time that I went back, the response would always be, "It's okay."
Earthly relationships really are a reflection of heavenly ones.
I wonder how much more tough it is for me to come with that same heart of repentance to God. When the feuds last not hours but years, where the agony is not simply emotional, but is reflected in every area of my life. When I'm missing the only relationship that ever mattered, there is indeed a void in my soul. I am the prodigal son, every single day.
Sometimes I get spanked, but always in the end, God is there to say "It's okay." And I can only come back because the power of Christ enables me to. When it takes me so much strength to muster up the courage to come back to my parents, I have nowhere near enough courage to approach the God of this universe to do the same. I can only come because of Jesus Christ.
My thoughts swing back and forth. I never seem to be able to find a middle ground, to discover a fitting tempo. I am consumed by too much zeal or too little passion; excessive comfort or foolish adventure; an overinflated ego or utter shame.
As a metronome.
I am never able to stop, swinging back and forth with the rhythms of life. My notes follow that progression. I am not in control; in fact, one day I wake up with the right heart, the next with a ridiculous fantasy of a god I can't trust.
Still ticking away. Click, click, click...
I struggle with the same things over and over again. A big head, selfish time management, love only for myself, fulfilling tasks and obligations, getting lost and lost again in the very things that Jesus came to free me from. I feel as if I messed up big time today. (add to that list: "dwelling on my failures")
Beyond all the vague specifics, beyond what people can judge of me, I know so deeply and so truly that I love myself above all other things. I love attention, I love it when people love me. I enjoy being elevated, I enjoy receiving a hundred times more than giving. Well - receiving all the wrong things.
I can see myself as that kid (or, perhaps, his clueless younger sister) on Youtube opening an N64 and being so, so excited. So excited. "NIIINTEEENDOOO 64!!!!!!!" About what is nothing. I could buy one with my own meager income now. What seemed like such a big deal when I was a child. And I hope that as I grow up, the things that I'm idolizing so much now will no longer be important. Only the One who matters.
Stop this clicking. I want to be free.
I can't boast about myself, but I can definitely boast about how God has carried me.
I'm here because I'm here. I will be carried through the years. In faith.
I was sitting today listening to Grad Night testimonies, and I was just wondering how these people managed to cling on to their faith through all four years in college. Why them, and not others?
How do I have the faith I have today? How will I ever manage to hang on to Him?
I don't think I can. I honestly don't. I think I just thought for a moment of how hopeless I am. I fear, because I can't grab a hold of even my own faith.
I fear. And tremble.
