Jesus at Work... in More Obvious Ways than Usual

I am very excited right now. For one thing, last week, just before Thanksgiving, Jesus gave me two jobs - not just one. I have a part-time job that starts any day now, and a full-time job that will begin on December 10th. 

But that's not the only reason I'm excited. I'm also excited because of the way that both of them - especially the full-time position - came about. What happened so clearly demonstrates that Jesus is at work. Jesus is at work (working) even at work (in our careers and vocations). What Jesus did to provide me with my full-time position reveals His hand more clearly than what He did to provide me with my part-time position, and I'd like to share the story with you. 

I don't remember what Sunday it was that I introduced myself to someone who was visiting our church for the first time, but it was within the last couple of months - whenever she first started to attend the Gathering. I haven't known Anna any longer than that. And yet Jesus has already used her to greatly encourage me and help me find work. 

After meeting, Anna and I ran into each other a couple of times in a couple of different places. We'd see each other at Walmart, or at Panera Bread, and I feel like we ran into each other somewhere else, too. One of the times that we encountered each other we decided to take a little time to get to know a bit more about each other. And I shared with Anna that I was looking for work. 

Anna's job used to involve helping people to pursue jobs. She would help them with their resumes, with interview preparations, etc. So she asked whether she could have my resume, suggesting that she might have some connections who would want to see it. We had this conversation on Wednesday, November 7th - I know the date because my emails show that I thanked her for the conversation that day, even though I didn't end up sending my resume to her until Saturday the 10th. 

Saturday, November 10th, was also the day that Anna told me (actually, before I sent my resume to her) that she had seen on the news that a local company was planning to hire upwards of 200 people. She thought of me when she saw the news and recommended that I look into it. Which I did. And then she offered to revise my resume a bit. Which I accepted. She said she would email it back when she was done. 

In the meantime, I went online to find out more about this company Anna had recommended that I look into. Not only were they hiring, but they were having an Interview Day on Tuesday, November 13th - just three days later. And to register for the Interview Day, they wanted applicants to submit resumes. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew that Anna had volunteered to re-work my resume, and I really wanted to submit the updated version she would produce. But at the same time, she was doing the revision just to help out. I didn't really feel comfortable going back to a friend I had only met recently and saying, "Hey, I know that you barely know me and you've already gone way above and beyond anything that I would expect of a new friend, but would you mind getting that resume done within, say, the next two hours so that I can submit it with my application?" So I started to revise my resume myself, keeping in mind some of the ideas that Anna and I had already talked about. 

My revisions were a waste of time. I hadn't gotten very far into them when Anna's revised version hit my email inbox. The revised resume was a thing of beauty (at least to a nerd like me). Once again, my new friend had exceeded expectations. So I was able to submit the revised resume with my application on Saturday and get an interview slot set up for Tuesday. And then Anna offered to conduct a mock interview with me the next day after church. By the end of the mock interview, I was feeling much better about being prepared for the Interview Day - and also for any other job pursuits I might have ahead of me. I was not anywhere close to thinking that this would be the conclusion of my job hunting.

So then came Tuesday. The Interview Day started off with a tour of the company facilities, including their on-site food court, gymnasium, and basketball court (and people were even playing basketball, so I assumed that it wasn't just for show - unless all the guys on the court were models hired to convince prospective employees that they would actually get the chance to play basketball on their work breaks). No company is perfect, but this was definitely looking like a place where I might enjoy working. 

But then something amazing happened. Seriously amazing. The tour guide said something that caught me totally off guard and convinced me that this was where Jesus wanted me to work: "I have found that this is a really great place to build friendships. Some of my closest friends are people I have met since coming to work here." 

And now you're thinking I'm loony. Why would I think that this was amazing? I mean, it's a nice thought. But something that convinced me that Jesus wanted me to work here? … Just wait, you're going to think I'm even loonier in a minute, and I don't even care, because what I'll tell you is the truth whether you believe it or not. But first of all, even on the surface, I loved what she said because I love to be with people. I love to build friendships. I love to get to know people, to spend time with people, to enjoy life with people. So what she said would have encouraged me to keep pursuing the job just for these reasons. It definitely told me that this opportunity had the possibility of becoming a place where I was really comfortable. Still, that's not what convinced me that Jesus had been planning for me to work here. 

So here goes. What convinced me was that I recognized what she said. I'm not talking about deja vu. I'm talking about recognition. I had heard her say it before, somewhere between two weeks and two months earlier. In a dream. 

Yes, I'm serious. I don't have many dreams, and when I do, they're usually pretty lame and unimpressive (don't just take my word for it - ask people who know me whether they've ever heard me talk about a dream that was actually interesting). I never assume that my dreams mean anything. But I remember this dream, because when I woke up from this dream where a lady said exactly what I heard on the company tour, I felt just about positive that Jesus had just showed me where I was going to work. I felt so positive about it that I literally prayed this prayer when I woke up: "Jesus, did you just show me where I'm going to work? If that's where I'm going to work, then why didn't you give me the company name? If you had given me the company name, I could print off my resume and go knock on their door and get the job!"

But Jesus hadn't given me a company name. So I kept quiet about my dream and didn't tell anyone. After all, maybe I'd just had too many no-bakes the night before, and maybe they'd created a strange impression in my heart's response to the dream. I decided to put it out of my mind and just prayed to Jesus that, if my dream ended up being fulfilled, I would recognize its fulfillment and follow His lead from there. 

And then my dream was fulfilled right in front of my eyes. At this company that I hadn't even heard about until three days before. Before I had been through a single interview. I felt like looking around and asking whether anyone else had noticed that Jesus had just tapped me on the shoulder and said, "This is it. Get ready to go back to work." I had the sense that my interviews could be total fails and I would still end up with the job. 

But my interview that day was not a total fail. It was brief, and it went really well. Before I left the building, I had been scheduled for a second interview to be held three days later that same week, on Friday, November 16th - before even a full week could pass since being told about this company for the first time. 

I started to tell people at this point that I thought Jesus would be giving me the job. I admitted that Jesus might have other plans, despite the dream. Maybe He was just trying to show me that He knew my every step before I had even taken a step, and that He was walking with me through the whole process. That was an encouraging thought, too. But I was fairly certain that He would be giving me this job, and I wanted Him to receive the honor if I did end up with this new position because of how He was working the whole thing out for me. So I decided to put myself out there a bit and began to tell some people about my dream and how, because of its fulfillment, I thought that Jesus was going to have me hired with this company. That way I would have witnesses who could verify that I wasn't making the dream thing up after getting hired. If you're one of the people who leans toward questioning whether I'm telling the truth about this dream stuff, contact me and I'll give you the names and contact information of a few of these people I talked to so that you can verify it for yourself. If you doubt my story after that, I guess you'll just have to decide that I'm part of a group of people devoted to stooping to deliberate lies, conspiracy and deception - whatever it takes to make Jesus look good. Believe that if you want, I guess. If that ends up being your perspective, I honestly don't know what else I can say to you except to beg you not to assume things like that about me and my friends. We love Jesus, but that doesn't mean that we want to promote His honor through lies and distortions. Why didn't I tell non-Christians? Honestly, probably because of stupidity and fear. Stupidity, because it would obviously have verified my story more fully if I had gone ahead and done that and so I was stupid not to, and fear, because I didn't want to face the possibility that my faith would be mocked if the job didn't come through - even though I felt 99% positive that this was Jesus' job for me. So yeah, stupidity and fear. Stupid fear. Shoulda told a non-Christian or two. I'm kicking myself on this one. I have a number of non-Christians in my life who I believe will vouch for my character as a truth-teller, if you want to at least check into that, but none who can vouch for this particular dream story. 

So I had this interview coming up on Friday. I was excited. I took the preparation materials the company gave me and studied up. And Jesus did some of His own work, too. 

When I got there on Friday, I discovered that I would actually have two interviews. One of the questions I was hoping would not come up was the question, "So, why the career change?" I mean, my resume showed that all of my education was focused on ministry (bachelor's degree in pastoral ministries, master's degree in theology) and that my last two jobs were ministry positions. So I knew that it was a question that I would likely be asked, but I didn't want it to come up because the most honest answer was to tell my interviewers about the changes in my life over the past couple of years - about how my wife turned away from our faith and was now leaving me and I didn't feel right about being in the ministry because of these changes. And I didn't want to talk about those things because I didn't want to look like I was trying to win pity points or anything like that. But, of course, the question came up. And one of my interviews took a totally unexpected turn. 

Since I don't know whether my interviewer would want me posting his name on my blog, we'll call him Sam Johnson. The interview was comfortable and going well. He asked the question I didn't want him to ask, I answered honestly with the truth about my life's changes, and the interview went on normally for a little bit. And then he stopped and said, "This is probably going to go down in history as my most challenging interview ever."

My heart stopped for a second. "Challenging" is not the term I would like to hear someone using to describe my interview with him. At the same time, he wasn't telling someone else that the interview was challenging. He was telling me. I took that as a good sign, but I still had to ask:

"Challenging how?"

His response was even more startling: "Are you sure your name isn't Sam Johnson?" At this point, I'm thinking What on earth is going on here? He continues, "… because I feel like I'm interviewing myself." And he pauses. I didn't know what else to say, so I kind of joked and said, "Well, that's good. You're hired." 

Why did he say this? Well, it turned out that we shared a good number of similarities in our life experiences. He was also a believer. He had also been in ministry. His wife had also left him. He had also pursued a career change. The interview was challenging because he identified too closely with me. And since he had been a good fit for the company, it was hard for him to conclude anything other than that I would be a good fit, too. 

And I couldn't help it. I was sitting there in amazement, recognizing just one more way that Jesus had arranged everything so that I would end up with this particular position at this particular company at this particular time. 

I had another interview that day, and it wasn't astonishing or anything. It wasn't with someone who identified so closely with me, and I don't even remember whether our interview included a discussion of my recent life experiences. So between this other interview and the first one that I had on Tuesday, I know that two of my three interviewers didn't face the challenge of identifying too closely with me. And yet Jesus gave me favor in their eyes, too. This interview concluded simply with my interviewer saying, "I think you will be a good fit here," and then me agreeing. 

And that was it. From then until I heard back from the company, it was just a matter of waiting to hear whether I would be hired or not. I told more friends about the dream. I told people about the interviewer who identified with me so strongly. I told them about how smoothly everything had gone. And I told them that I expected to be offered the job soon specifically because I believed that Jesus wanted it for me. 

I didn't have to wait long. On Tuesday, November 20th, the company's HR personnel called to offer me the position. 

The position that was pointed out to me a week and a half earlier,

at a company that I didn't know about, 

by a friend Jesus put into my life only within the last couple of months,

who generously revised my resume,

and who conducted a mock interview with me, 

confirmed by Jesus 

through a dream fulfilled and 

through an interview from heaven.

The only thing that makes sense is for me to step back in amazement and say, "Jesus, thank you. You are good to me."

Perfect Burden, Perfect Freedom

On Sunday morning I went to church with a dear friend (who told people at the church that I was her son, creating some amusing confusion later on). During the service, she prayed. And as she prayed, I felt overwhelmingly burdened.

Not in a good way. In a way that could lead to despair. Maybe you'll be able to sympathize.

Because she was praying for the persecuted church, and as she prayed, she quoted Samuel: "... far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD by failing to pray for you" (1 Samuel 12:23, NIV). At first it sounded so beautiful. But then I started to realize just how often I commit precisely that sin. I fail even to pray for people. I fail to pray for the persecuted church. I fail to pray for our country's leaders. I fail to pray for my friends, for my family, even for myself. Not always. But more often than I care to admit, I fail to pray. Which means that I sin often. "Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins" (James 4:17).

What a failure. What a burden. A perfect burden, really. I mean, if perfection is taken to mean "ultimate," then my sin is the ultimate burden. There is no denying it. There is no overcoming it. There is no escaping it. My failure is evident. And yet...

Even as my mind began to recognize the weight of my failures, and as my heart began to sense the burden of Jesus' call for me - for all of us - to do what is right (a call that relentlessly hounds us even while we're failing), the Holy Spirit guided my mind to another place in His Word, a place where I found perfect freedom. Ultimate freedom.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. - Matthew 11:28-29

Jesus invited me to bring my burden to Him. He didn't make the burden disappear. It wasn't magically gone. In fact, I still add to it. Daily. The burden is still growing, even now, after I've come to Jesus.

But I'm not carrying it anymore. He is. I'm sharing Jesus' yoke, moving in Jesus' direction - which calls me to pray for others, among many other good and wonderfully right ways He calls me to love God and love people. I'm moving in Jesus' direction, in spite of my burden, because Jesus takes the burden off my shoulders and puts it on His own, and deals with it on the cross. And you know what? There's no burden too big for Him.

So I still fail. But I'm yoked to Jesus, and I don't carry the weight of my burdens. I have the perfect, ultimate burden, because my sins are too much for me to handle. But I have the perfect, ultimate freedom, because Jesus is too much for my sins to overcome! Because of Him, I am free... and being freed further every day.

Riddle: What is Often (Always?) Wasteful but Never Wasted?

Assuming you've looked at the title of this post, let me give you a few clues that might help you figure out the answer, which is expressed in various "wasteful" ways like…

… letting one of your children get a new pancake and add different toppings before the first - and maybe second - pancake with its toppings has been totally finished (note: this was the inspiration for today's thoughts and riddle)

… buying gifts for your spouse "out of the blue" or beyond your gift budget just because you know what your spouse really wants and you know it will bring a smile to her face (confession: I was terrible at this, which I shouldn't have been, because Christy was amazing at it and deserved a spouse who did this just as well)

… spending some time on Facebook just taking the time to find out how friends are doing and to let them know you care, despite the distance between you, by "liking" or commenting on their pictures, posts, and experiences

… staying up late just to catch up with friends for a bit longer (to the several friends who have recently had groggy mornings following an evening with me, thank you)

… calling or taking calls from people just to see how they're doing

… not only donating to a local ministry that helps homeless neighbors efficiently and effectively, but giving a beggar the dollar he's asking for now and then even knowing that he may use your gift poorly

… putting some of your resources toward going on a short-term missions trip rather than putting it all toward a large missions organization that could likely use the money more efficiently and effectively by supporting long-term missionaries' efforts on the mission field

Here's the riddle one more time: What is often (always?) wasteful and never wasted? 

Answer: Love

Love is not primarily about efficiency, effectiveness, or any other productivity metrics. Love is about people, about valuing them, and about helping them. So love includes aiming for effectiveness and productivity, because love wants to do the best it can for people in general. But often, helping the individuals God puts into our lives means slowing down and becoming a little less "productive" and more "wasteful" in terms of time, effort, and resources. Love like this is never wasted, because its expression communicates to those who receive it that they are valuable, worthwhile, and cherished - that they mean something and have intrinsic dignity and value. And even when people who receive love abuse it (like perhaps a beggar who uses a gift to feed his addiction), it is not wasted because the person who gave the love won the fight to keep his own heart more focused on communicating value and hope to others than on avoiding the risk of abuse.

My list of examples of wasteful, unwasted love doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of good examples, though. So if you have experienced or witnessed more love like this, please feel free to comment and encourage all of us to worry less about productivity/efficiency and to keep our hearts devoted to loving others as Jesus loved us. 

Lukewarm No More - The Puddleglum Argument

I am done being lukewarm. 

That statement may surprise some of you who know me well. Maybe I'm wrong, and you've seen through my veneer, but I'm guessing many/most of you would say, "Matt? Lukewarm?"

Yes. L.U.K.E.W.A.R.M. Lukewarm. And I'm done.  

Today I went to counseling. I go to counseling because, honestly, there's a lot in my life right now that sucks. And I want to be ok. And I want to be able to help our kids be ok. And the counselor I have at the Barnabas Center is incredible, so this may be one of the best investments I've ever made. 

So while I was at counseling today, we were talking about how everything seems to be going wrong and how hurt, frustrated, confused, and angry I am about it. But I was saying that no matter how bad things seem to be, part of what makes it hard is that people want to comfort me by telling me that it's going to be ok. The reason it's annoying is that the reality that life is going to be ok is the one thing I know for sure, and I want permission to feel bad about how ridiculously "country song" my life is now without acting as if I'm comforted by knowing that it's going to be ok. I mean, I am comforted by knowing that it's going to be ok. That's established. But there's still pain in the present, and I want people to accept that with me and walk with me anyway. 

As we were beginning to talk about these things, I was also sharing with my counselor that there are some opportunities and people who give me hope that my life could be really great soon, now, in the present. I've got some amazing friends. I've got people trying to help me find work, including people who are aiming to get me some really GOOD work. And I even went into this counseling appointment with an interview lined up for the afternoon, an appointment at 2 p.m. A sign of hope, not just for the who-knows-when future, but for today and tomorrow. For now. 

And I'm not kidding you, but less than 10 minutes into my counseling appointment, I got a phone call. I took the call, hoping for more good news (when you're applying to jobs, you take calls. That's just how it is for me). But - you're not going to believe this - it was the hiring manager calling to inform me that the company, instead of really looking forward to my interview and anticipating my hiring, had actually decided not to add the position I was applying for after all. 

You know those times when you know you shouldn't cuss, but it just seems really, really appropriate? 

We spent the rest of the counseling session just grappling with how I don't seem to be able to catch a break. I even applied for a McDonald's job recently - at a new McDonald's that didn't have any employees yet - and didn't get a call. That's how bad it is. And remember, I'm not saying this in the idea that I have no future hope. I'm just saying that life right now is pretty consistently ridiculous. I have great moments, but the overall picture is getting really, really tiresome. 

So what's that have to do with my being lukewarm?

So glad you asked. As I drove home from counseling, for the first couple of minutes I reflected on how certain I am that things will one day be fine again. I am certain of that as a Christian. But if I was an atheist, I'd be just as certain (and I don't entertain even the possibility of anything being true aside from Christianity and atheism - those are the only two options that make sense to me). From the Christian perspective, I'm going to be fine because the God I serve has demonstrated His love for me through Jesus' death on the cross, and no matter what happens, I know He's both going to take care of me throughout this life and then, beyond this life, heaven's waiting. LIfe's only going to get better. From the atheistic perspective, I'm going to be fine because I have friends and family who are going to make sure that I have a place to stay and food to eat even if my finances crash through the pit of destruction for a while, and I know that one day I'll be back on my feet - and from the atheistic perspective, even if I'm wrong and somehow things fall apart so badly that I die, who cares? I won't be experiencing pain anymore. So I can maintain a realistic and very optimistic sense of hope for my future, either way. Life is just about certainly going to get better in this life. I'm going to make it. I really don't expect my life to end. I'm so optimistic about my future (even if not my immediate future) in this life that the thought of suicide is ridiculous, and I'm healthy enough to assume that my life is going to continue for quite a while, barring some accident. But either way, whether I look at things from the perspective of a Christian or an atheist, if life does end, I have nothing to worry about. 

Now that's all well and good, but if you think about what I just said, you might be able to see my lukewarmness entering the picture. Sure, I've chosen to continue living as a Christian. Sure, I argue its case and believe that it's a smarter pick than atheism. Sure, I live my Christianity with integrity, for the most part, and I put my efforts into promoting Jesus. But look how much of my hope for the future is based in the possibility of atheism. In that paragraph, at least, it's about equal to the amount of my future hope that is based in Christianity. 

That's scary to me. 

Because as I looked at how this job interview suddenly slipped through my fingers, I literally considered my life from both perspectives. If Christianity is right, then God had something to do with it, and it's personal. He took the job away from me for a reason, presumably something better that He has in store for me sooner or later. So I can move forward with hope. If atheism is right, then the job interview just disappeared because that's what happened, and my chances for the future are just as good as ever, so I might as well keep moving forward with expectation, looking for whatever it is that is sure to turn up sooner or later that won't slip through my fingers. Either way, life will be fine someday, even if it sucks today. 

Do you see the lukewarm written all over me? I do. And as I realized it, some convictions began to work their way into my heart. The idea began to grow that, though God might have had other reasons that I'm not imagining for allowing this job interview to get away, perhaps He did it just so that I would see how lukewarm I am and throw myself fully into His embrace. Not that throwing myself fully into His embrace guarantees that I'll get a job tomorrow, but still. 

So then as I continued driving home, I put the speakerphone on and called my parents. Mom answered, and we talked about some of the things I've been saying already. But then something else became a part of the conversation. Mom reflected on how, when she was in college and my dad's first wife and son were killed in a flood, she was angry with God. And she was attending a class in college where they were studying the book of Job from the Bible. Her secular professor was painting the God of Job as a juvenile, insecure, "I have to prove my glory to you" kind of deity. And I realized that part of the reason I keep comparing how my life looks from the perspective of both Christianity and atheism is that I feel that way about God sometimes, too. What if He's so insecure and petty that He is allowing me to go through this mess just so that I'll admit He's really amazing because of how He turns things around in the end? 

Then it hit me. The God of Christianity is so glorious that this kind of pettiness is ridiculous and can't possibly apply to Him. If He's as glorious and wonderful as the Bible claims, to the extent that one day "every knee will bow and every tongue will confess" it, then He's not trying to milk more praise out of His people through either good times or bad times. He doesn't need it. He simply is glorious, and one day all of creation will realize it and bow in amazement. 

So why does He focus on teaching us His glory, if He knows we're going to acknowledge it someday anyway? Here's why: because He wants us to experience His glory in the best possible way we will allow. Some of us won't permit ourselves to experience His glory hardly at all in this life, and the glory of His justice and righteousness is going to scream from our lips even from the pits and fires of hell. But God tells us that this is not what He wants for us. It is far better for us to know and experience His glory now, to confess it now, to adore Him now and trust Him now, so that for the rest of eternity we will praise His glorious mercy as we experience the fullness of His joys in heaven. So He brings us through trials in this life, even knowing that we will question His goodness and mock His kindness and ridicule His character as "petty" and "juvenile", because He cares about us and wants us to recognize and experience Him as glorious now, and not just in the future. For our sakes, not His. He's going to get His dues from us no matter what. Yet He still intervenes in ways that feel good and ways that feel bad… for our good.

Wow. God's not petty. He's kind. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy" (Proverbs 27:6, NASB). 

So back to my lukewarmness. Why have I sat there in tepid, lukewarm waters for so long when I have such a good God? The first answer is, "Because I'm stupid." But really, what's my motivation been? 

I think a lot of it has had to do with my desire to be reasonable and to keep communication lines open with those I disagree with by trying to see things through their eyes. But it's been more than that, I think. When I examine myself honestly, my doubts and fears about Christianity scare me, despite all the evidence I have for its truth. What if the only other option I consider to be viable - atheism - is true? Will my life have been a total waste? These motivations make me constantly want to guard myself as if I'm playing a giant game of chess with my life's purpose, never wanting to make a move without knowing that if it costs me something, I still have back up. I want to play the game of life so that if my Christianity piece falls through, at least I can still win with my atheist piece. I want to win, either way. Perhaps you understand what I'm saying and have been tempted into lukewarmness, too. I hope not, but perhaps.

So what is breaking me out of this lukewarmness? Crazily enough, it's thoughts that are best summed up in the arguments of a fantasy creature from Narnia - Puddleglum the Marshwiggle, to be precise. I've written about his thoughts before (and still managed to be lukewarm - I hope that doesn't continue), but just to set the context, Puddleglum, a prince, and some children have been captured by a witch who lives underground. She is trying to maintain control over them and actually persuade them to submit to her leadership by convincing them that the sun, Aslan the lion (the God figure in this story), and many other wonderful realities are mere figments of their imaginations based on lesser goods that they can readily find in her underground world, such as a lamp and a cat. The small group is almost persuaded. They have definitely been lulled into what could be called a temporary state of lukewarmness, where they are still trying to believe in the greater things, like Aslan and the sun, but where those things honestly don't seem as real to them at the moment as the lamp and the cat in the witch's underground world. They're thinking about living a compromised life even as they try to convince the witch that they are right about Aslan, the sun, and everything else. 

And then Puddleglum has a moment of inspiration (I'm only going to include his words here, and not any descriptions in the passage): 

One word, Ma'am. One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things--trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.

Now here's the thing. The witch has been able to dull their senses and reasoning to the point where they're questioning the reality of the sun and stars and Aslan, but the reality in this story is that they actually have experienced all of those things. This statement looks like faith without evidence, but it's really evidence-based faith confronting confusing and mind-numbing arguments. That's part of why I wouldn't use this passage to defend, say, Buddhism, Islam, or Hinduism. I don't think the evidence supports any of those religions. At all. But the evidence for Christianity is really strong. So don't hear me saying I've decided to take a leap of evidence-less faith. 

Here's what I'm saying. I see the evidence for atheism, too. But even though I think the evidence for Christianity is stronger, I have become lukewarm in the way that I live out my Christianity - internally, not externally - for all the reasons I mentioned above - especially to have people trust that I really do understand the atheist perspective and (what's worse) to have a backup strategy for winning the game of life if Jesus Christ somehow falls through. 

But when it comes down to it, there's still a huge gap between the two perspectives. Let's say that both of them have an almost equal chance of being rationally defensible, and that I'm right when I say that I'll be ok in the future whether I'm a Christian or an atheist. I would still rather live the kind of life that I'm compelled to live as a Christian. The Christian life is far richer than the atheistic life. 

• On hopes - atheism permits a hope of a decent or even amazing life in the present and peace (through non-existence) after death; Christianity compels hope not only that Jesus cares for us now, but that the future will be eternally amazing.
• On joys - atheism permits an experience of joy in the present, but it's really tough to experience joy when things go badly; Christianity gives a basis for a constant joy even in the worst imaginable sufferings.
• On morals - atheism permits (but does not demand) people to live really upright and moral lives for the sake of personal fulfillment and being able to think of themselves as good people; Christianity compels us to pursue good for others and provides for that good through God's own Holy Spirit, inviting us to join God in His goodness forever (as imperfectly as we accomplish that goal between now and Jesus' return). 
• On freedoms - atheism sometimes permits freedoms and sometimes doesn't, but when it does permit freedom, that freedom is based in letting everyone have a chance of enjoying their own lives as much as possible before death; Christianity has sometimes been guilty of restricting and abusing people's freedoms, but the nature of Christianity is to recognize that no one is truly free because we all choose a path that restricts us, whether that path follows God or Satan or our own philosophies, and to extend the freedom to choose our paths to all those around us just as God has given us the freedom to choose Him or not. In other words, in Christianity the basis for freedom is not just a hope that we won't step on each other's toes; it's a fundamental part of the nature of reality as God designed it to be: people should be free to choose their paths, even if it's a wrong path that enslaves them to do wrong things. 

I could go on and on, and I'm sure that throughout my life I will, but you get the idea. I'm done with lukewarmness. I'm done with making sure that I'll win the game of life whether I'm a Christian or not. I'm done with worrying about whether people think I've swallowed the "I don't need evidence" pill. I'm done with worrying about whether people are going to reject my arguments for various moral causes just because I'm a Christian. Christianity has better evidence than atheism anyway. But when you compare the God of Christianity with the godlessness of atheism, the richness and warmth and fulfillment found in a life that follows God wholeheartedly is beyond anything atheism can even begin to dream up. I've got evidence that leads me to believe Christianity is true, and I have experienced my risen Lord in many ways. But from now on, I pray that even when my mind is muddled by the deceitfulness that creeps in when I encounter arguments that I'm not sure how to answer and events that are hard to handle, I will say with Puddleglum:

[I'm] leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend [my life] looking for [God's gifts and blessings and companionship]. Not that [my life] will be very long, I should think; but that's small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.

Lord Jesus, help me. I don't want to follow You just because of the abundant evidence. I don't want to follow You just as a strategy for winning the game of life. I don't want to have a back up plan that comforts me if I'm wrong about you. I want to follow You because You are my life in every way. Guard me from following You for any lesser reason, and from worrying about a back up plan. If I lose You, I lose a far more savory and sweet and rich life than I gain. Please, just let me be fully Yours.  

Freedom of Conscience Guillotine

Just in case anyone was wondering what I think about the current political situation. Feel free to share, because I honestly think that if we don't defend other people's freedom of conscience, we shouldn't be surprised to find our own freedom of conscience eroding away.