Mashed!

I don't watch a lot of television, but I have recently become addicted to the new show, Glee. Since I have a tv that isn't even plugged in, and I'm not really sure how to get it to.. you know, go on cable...I just watch new episodes on Hulu. Which leads me to the most recent episode. Quick background: Glee is about a bunch of nerdy kids and their nerdy teacher who is restoring the high school's glee club (think: show choir) to its former glory. And to date: This past week, they faced off against each other on "mash-ups," which are two songs mashed together to form one super-cool extravaganza!

Why am I writing about this? Because I sense that a mash-up is just what's needed. An IDEA mash-up. That's right. Four ideas, one theme, one blog, and a glass of wine. No singing, dancing, or blue glitter eyeshadow, but we'll try to have fun anyway.

Forgiveness. Complacency. Trust. Microcosm.

About four years ago, I met God for the first time. I had "converted" about six years before that. I had read the Bible, and been a part of the church, and all of that jazz. I'd prayed. I had felt God's presence in my life. I had fallen out, and returned, and fallen out again. But it wasn't until that one moment that I knew for sure.

I was home from college for winter break, and went for a walk one morning. I found myself in the sanctuary at Christ Community Church (CCC), the church in which I had first come to hear of Jesus Christ, at the age of 14. I've always had a nostalgic affection for the church, and still try to sneak in a silent moment at the steps to the altar, when I am home. I snuck a moment then, and, without apparent reason or consent, found myself in shambles. Sobbing. Begging for forgiveness (1), a concept I felt I had not quite understood until that moment.

The preceding months had been steep. Lots of partying, lots of drinking, depression, anxiety. The culture of my college had given me a free pass for all of that. I tried to take it. I thought I had taken it. But then, the cross. I've struggled with "confession" for as long as I've known the concept. Right then, though, broken at the altar, there was no struggle. What had started as a quiet whispering to God about my goings-on suddenly became a flooding torrent of confession, and apology.

My heart broke with the pain of what I had been doing to myself, and as I began to tell Him of it, I felt, maybe for the first time, what my pain does to Him, and my heart broke all over again. But, and this is what matters, this is what amazes me still, this is what gives me hope. I don't know how to tell of it. Suddenly, I felt a wall of love like nothing I had ever known, or have known since then. My eyes were closed against the tears, and I saw white. Pure, pure white, like a wall across my mind's eye, and I saw love, and forgiveness. And I felt, so clearly it was almost like hearing, I felt Christ say to me "It's all right, I .. love.. you.. so.. much. Please don't cry. I have you. It's all right now."

It was such an odd sensation. Because it wasn't judgment. I was apologizing as though there'd be judgment. But He was responding with Love. Pure love. Love like I don't understand. It was as though He was right there, holding me, and telling me that He didn't care what I'd done, it didn't matter anymore, it was gone. He loved me.

And I knew. I knew then that I don't believe that salvation is about judgment. That Christ is not about judgment. I walked towards Him. And He closed the gap. It was a remarkable moment.

But, I went back to college, and remained as I had been. Complacent (2) in the ways of faith. Completely out of whack, behaviorally. It would be another two years before I reconsidered Christ. I have drifted in and out of faith more times than Oprah has lost the weight. I am the long game.

When I think about that moment, though, I remember all over again why it is that I believe in a God. A little bit of trust (3) seeps in to fill the cracks of my logic. I think, "I know that I've been led to James River for a reason, so I'm going to keep going, even as a non-Christian, if that's what I am." And then, almost immediately, I think "If you trust that you are supposed to be in this church, then why won't you trust that this salvation debate will work itself out?" Why one, and not the other?

I begin to wonder if salvation is one of those things that has to be understood from the inside. Like a sorority, or George W.'s presidency. Is salvation a venture for which you have to be all in, before things come all out in front of your heart? I'm not generally one to shrink from such explorations. I actually joined a sorority once, because I knew that I wouldn't be able to understand it from the outside. And, like most things involving human behavior, I wanted to understand it. That's why I went to James River, come to think of it.

So in a way, my own orientation towards life is a microcosm (4) of the process necessary to salvation. In agreeing to step in, things become apparent that would not be so otherwise. I told someone today that "making a commitment to the ideals that Christ died for is not the same as believing that we need a sacrifice to take our blame...unless one is a credible microcosm of the other." Christ died teaching us how to love. That's literal. Christians also claim a symbolic aspect--that Christ's death somehow atoned for our sins. To me, that transaction makes no sense. Unless there's some sort of microcostic harmony between the literal and the metaphorical.

That is, Christ's literal death is the microcosm of the metaphorical death. He died attempting to teach us how to conquer sin, and the living death that sin promotes. He gave his life that we might learn how to live. This isn't exactly what the Christians mean when they talk about atonement and salvation. But it's getting me closer. I might be able to jump from here.

Hmm.. what if they're both literal?