Jesus, don't cry.

If I can share with you for a moment how much of a nerd I truly am, I would like to let you know something about me. Something a little embarassing. I (and Nick Roland was the first person to realize it) have a tendency sometimes to imagine myself in a movie scene at random times throughout the day. It usually only happens when I have music on (whether in my car or in my headphones makes no difference), mostly around sundown or when it is raining. You know, the moments when the mood is thick. What mood that is, I don't know. Anyway, I will suddenly forget that I'm a regular person doing a common, every day task, and suddenly I am in the middle of a magnificently-crafted feature with the perfect soundtrack to match the visuals. I know, I'm an idot.

All of that to say that I had one such moment today. I turned in a paper to my Anthropology teacher's mailbox, and walked out of Old Main. I stood there, took out my iPod, turned to my favorite album by one of my favorite bands (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco), and began to walk. My plan was to walk to the bus station near the Student Union and catch a ride down to Pomfret, so I set my iPod to the song "War On War" and picked up my pace.

Then, for the first time, God arranged one of the above-stated moments. The song ended in 3 minutes 49 seconds, and then, expectedly, went to the next song on the album, which happens to be one of the best songs Wilco has ever written, "Jesus, Etc." The smooth guitar and keyboard started and, alas, a "movie moment" was triggered. The scene was mournful, although not completely depressing--much like the song. 20 seconds into the song, Jeff Tweedy's words kicked in, opening the song with the line "Jesus, don't cry." 3 words that speak thousands (although probably not, to me, in the way Mr. Tweedy intended). At this exact moment, I turned the corner of Mullins Library and saw something that always hits me right deep in the left side of my chest: a campus street-evangelist. "Jesus, don't cry," I repeated. Only in a movie... only in a movie.

My heart ached at the thought, for surely this one was going to be just like all of the rest I had seen--loud, obnoxious, confrontational, judgemental, self-righteous, etc. I turned my iPod off, and decided to take a seat by the lawn where he was "preaching."

Sure enough, he was everything I expected and more. "Jesus, don't cry," I prayed.

I don't remember any of the exact arguments he was trying to push, but I remember all of his applications of them being nearly 100% wrong, based on my (admittedly poor) understanding of the person of Jesus. It broke my heart. It usually does. I should have known better than to stay and listen, because I always end up with an unbelievable amount of personal guilt and responsibility for what the person says. Although, maybe that's a good thing?

There is a reason why Christianity has been pushed to the margins of our culture. And I don't mean popular culture, because Jesus never had a chance of reigning there in this world. I mean to say that Christianity has been largely rejected as a legitimate lifestyle/worldview by our society in general. And most of it is because of people like 'Moses,' as people call the genteleman I saw today. When robbed of its authenticity and used as nothing more than a way to assert one's superiority over another, Christianity has no purpose in this world other than to, excuse my French, piss off all of those who don't fall under its banner.

I must admit, the effect that "Moses" had on everyone in the crowd was quite disgusting. It caused everyone to begin to throw out hatred like confetti, yelling equally horrible things back at him. And one of the scarriest parts of it was the fact that a few Christian guys I was standing by got caught up in all of the hatred, as well. They started saying things like "someone needs to just go up there and punch him in the mouth," "he needs to die," etc., etc., etc. Even in myself (not surprisingly), I could feel the smallest bit of self-righteousness brewing. Luckily, I noticed what was going on in my heart and in the hearts of those around me before I let it get out of hand, but I was still shocked at myself. Here I am, furious, hurt, saddened, and disgusted with things I am hearing, and then I turn around and nearly let do the exact same thing to "Moses."

I guess I'm just deeply saddened, more than anything else, by the fact that this is what Jesus looks like to so many people out there. If this is who Jesus is, then all of the cynics and skeptics are right--we don't need him. But, luckily, the Jesus that I know and love isn't anything like that Jesus. He is so many things and he isn't so many things, and I don't know where to begin listing so I won't, but he is absolutely beautiful in every way and the people need to know him. They need to know the real him.

I think that that is the problem. Jesus hasn't become marginalized in society, but imposters have. If we were actively showing (not telling, showing) the world Jesus day in and day out, I really believe that multitudes would be changed. His lifestyle is too revolutionary, too simple, even too progressive (who'da thunk it?) to be dismissed. (Note: This is not to say that I don't feel that proclaiming the name of Jesus is important, it most certainly is. But I would argue that showing him is much, much more impactful than nearly any word that can be spoken--to the cold-hearted, especially)

Jesus has recently, in the last year or so, smashed much of my old "American Christian" worldview to pieces and built something back up that is much more beautiful than I could have imagined before. He's smashed my old thoughts of who he is and what he did. He's smashed my idea of who I am. And he's still doing it (because I am stupid and I am stubborn), smashing and rebuilding things every day, keeping the elements that are good and throwing away the ones that aren't. And sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it makes you feel stupid, and sometimes it confuses you, and sometimes its the most wonderful feeling in the world. But, it is happening, both during the times I like it and the times I don't. Its an odd thing to go through, as most of you probably know, but I want everyone to experience it.

I know I'm kind of jumping around a lot now, and, I'll be honest, I have no intention (and probably not the creative ability) of tying everything up. I guess, if I can end this post with anything, the thing that best sums up my last 2 or 3 paragraphs, it would be these lyrics:

And I'm trying to make you sing
from inside where you believe,
like its something that you need,
like it means everything.

And I'm trying to make you feel
that this is for real,
that life is happening,
that it means everything.

I'm just trying to make you sing.

These are from the last song on David Crowder*Band's latest album, "A Collision." The song is called "The Lark Ascending (Or, Perhaps More Accurately, I Am Trying To Make You Sing)." Its probably one of the most uplifting and inspirational pieces of music I've ever heard (which simultaneously shows my disgusting lack of culture and my unrelenting love for Crowder). Its simply an honest plea to the listener to consider everything that the album had discussed before. Not just to think about it or even to intellecuatlly adhere to it, but to fully, in your heart of hearts, come to realize that this life is what its all about--that it means everything. The incarnation and the resurrection really happened. And it means everything.

It means everything.
--Heger


P.S. Oh and I just kind of feel like mentioning, since I haven't as of yet on this blog, that I currently have a girlfriend, and she is pretty much the most amazing girl I have ever met (besides my mom, but thats a given). Now, I might get in trouble for writing that, as it very well could embarass her, but thats just a chance I'm willing to take. Her name is Ellen, by the way.