Coming to Jesus

Every thought that I repent
there's another chip you havent spent
and you're cashing them all in
where do we begin
to get clean again
I wanna know, can we get clean again...
("God of Wine" Third Eye Blind)

Sometimes it feels like we just can't get a break. There is just not enough time or not enough day or not enough opportunity or not enough patience or love or whatever. We find ourselves under a gun of some kind. We begin to rethink the steps and realize that of all the possible explanations for the trouble, this is most likely a place that we have brought ourselves to--perhaps even driven ourselves to.

This, of course, is the beginning of a good sermon or a good self-help book. Good success stories always start at the bottom--or at least get there soon enough. They are then followed by that all imporant moment of taking personal responsibility. In the days of Christian Revivals, this was called confession. I had a friend who used to call it the come to Jesus moment.

Char was a pastor that I knew back in Iowa. Her name was actually "Charlotte" but she was no Charlotte. She was just Char or Pastor Char--and it should have been pronouced "ch" as in charred steak or charred remains. Because that is generally how you felt after she got done speaking to you.

We all knew that Char was German. She had to be because whenever my colleagues and I would gather at her house for a minister's meeting, she would be cooking up some obscure German dish--you know, the kind tht you set on the stove at 6am and then eat sometime in the middle of afternoon. What is that Rabbit? She didn't really look German though or at least not only German. She really seemed more Celtic--not in the sentimental way but more in the uncivilized, we eat our own young, sort of way. She had sandy-red hair and she was huge. She was physical and intimidating. I once challenged her in a room full of colleagues and she literally pushed me into the next room where she proceeded to give me one of her legendary come to Jesus lectures. For Char, coming to Jesus pretty much meant having your @$$ kicked. It was a ministry to which she seemed uniquely called and genuinely qualified. However, on this particular occasion, I am pretty sure she was wrong so it turned out to be the beginning of the end of any respect I might have had for this particularly German-Celtic bully.

We typically do not need someone else to help us come to Jesus. The arrival generally coincides with our readiness. We've usually worn out every possible alternative. We're usually pretty alone and desperate. And frankly, we don't need someone else telling us all the things that we have done wrong because chances are we've been reliving them over and over again in our minds. It seems to me that when it comes to keeping track of our own sins and failures, most of us are more than capable accountants--especially when we're nearing the bottom of the latest hole in our lives.

So to all the Char's out there... thanks but no thanks. We've got this. Most of us are beating ourselves up plenty well here without your help. If all you've got for us is self-righteous torment, save it. But if you know someone who might actually help, you can send them... That's what I thought.

Right? Because that is the nature of this thing. We call it "the pit" precisely because the point is to sort of not fall into it. Therefore there aren't lots of people in here with us and no one really jumps in on purpose. Well almost no one...

That's the real come to Jesus moment isn't it? It is accepting that even thought we are the person most responsible for the current situation, we are, nevertheless, not likely to be the person to resolve it, at least not alone. BTW, this is also familiar fodder for sermons and self-help books. And there is good reason for this but it can be deceptive.

You see, just because you think you've heard something before doesn't necessarily mean that you understand it. And there is no understanding something like a pit until you find yourself in one. People can talk about the saving power of Jesus all day long but until you need it, it really isn't going to make much of an impact. In the same way, people can tell you how much you need Jesus or how much Jesus is there for you but it's just noise until you actually see him there with you in that pit.

The Church teaches us that the Lord actually dove headlong--not only into this world, but indeed into the pit of all pits. This is that strange part of the historic Creed that claims Jesus actually "descended into Hell." We usually read this part with a bit of confusion and awkward trepidation. But there are times when such a claim has unique meaning for us... For those of us who have found the bottom, it is not simply about coming to Jesus. It is about Jesus coming to us.

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom. 8:38-39)