Jesus Won't Save You
All of my life has been spent in and around the church. Growing up, I worshipped at the same church my parents met at and continue to attend to this very day. I went to an evangelical Christian school from first grade all the way through to graduation. And despite the occasional controversies, it seems to be a milieu that I can’t leave.
Throughout my previous writings I have expressed my own struggles and doubts with the existence of God, the nature of God, and the specific narratives adhered to by the different Abrahamic traditions. Despite this spiritual ambivalence, I feel I have come to something of an epiphany regarding the necessity of faith. The New Testament book of Hebrews tells us that “faith is being steadfast in what we hope.” As it happens, I came across this quote from an Imam (a Muslim religious leader): “faith is patience during difficulty.” The Imam’s notion of continuing on a path without foreknowledge of what lies ahead seems to grasp the essence of faith. Perseverance, then, is a representation of humanity’s capacity for hope.
The hope that I have found is in the truth and beauty of Christ’s resurrection. In my last piece I discussed the inherent paradox of life--the realization that, despite all its beauty and joy, life is frankly full of pain. Whether it is losing a loved one, falling out with a friend, being stuck in traffic, or simply waking up on the wrong side of the bed, the good things in life are always interrupted. But it is also through such pain that we find growth.
We even have a biological term for this phenomenon! Hibernation, in which an animal stores up fats and enters a sort of sleep-death, is a natural strategy to weather the most difficult times of the year. Consider a caterpillar, who enters into its chrysalis stage--a pseudo burial--before emerging into a new life with new function and looks. We cannot forget the world of flora, either. Unseen, they begin their life cycle buried in a dark tomb, somehow finding the inner strength to push through the soil and rocks above. What was once a little seed continues to change, grow, and eventually blossom.
This, to me, is the truth and beauty found in the Christian tradition; the story of growth and beauty coming out of the darkness; the story of Christ experiencing his own mortality amongst us, meeting death intimately at the hands of an imperial state, and being laid to rest in a stone-capped tomb. Christ’s final verdict, however? Fuck Death. In the Christian tradition, Satan is Death personified. The lesson of Christ's resurrection is that Death has not the final word. Despite all of the pain, all the hurt, all of the heartbreak, Death is not the Prime Mover of reality. The countless resurrections we see throughout the natural world are meant to be reflections, imperfect representations, of a life-affirming reality.
Yet finding truth in resurrection is not so simple: Jesus won’t spare you from life’s trials. Assuredly, we will all struggle with both the insecurities of youth and vanities of growing old. No Christ, no resurrection, will spare you from these. He won’t spare you from the mysteries and seeming contradictions of this life. He won't spare you from the perplexities we face every day. You may follow an Abrahamic tradition or some other religious tradition. None will save you from the complex bundle of experience that characterize human existence. The laws of physics and nature that constrain us should not be causes for sorrow or regret, but for joy.
The idea that if you run after God, after the supernatural, you’ll be spared from the ups and the downs of this life recurs throughout numerous religious traditions. Yet, while walking on water is fine if you can manage it, pining away for some sort of supernatural transcendence from the problems of life typically does you no good. Jesus won't spare you from life, even if you plead for a “better” one.
What is the saving grace present in the reality of resurrection? The saving grace of resurrection is the beauty, awe, and wonder we can find here. Christ will save you from the misery of finding yourself “hard pressed on every side.” Christ will save you from getting every little whim that you set your heart on, the instant that you want it. You will be saved from cliches--silly, shallow distancing tactics produced by vain imaginations and shallow dreams. You will no longer be led by blind optimism, but by the hope of resurrection--a foundational principle of life. In the early part of the New Testament there are a series of historical books that tell the stories of Christ on earth as Jesus. In one of these passages, Jesus appears to His followers, people who viewed him as a Divine incarnation, as the embodiment of hope I’ve been talking about, to be the manifestation of the natural law of resurrection. The first thing Christ says to them is “do not be afraid.” Why? Resurrection can be frighteningly incomprehensible.
Life teaches us that there are monsters around every corner and skeletons in every closet; that we should walk softly and carry a big stick; be ready to teach those who bother us a lesson. The hope of resurrection beckons us to sit with others. To wrestle in the mud of messy relationships with those who look and think differently from us. It reminds us that even when a deadly and divisive virus dominates the news, life is still worth living--together. When a hypersonic missile traveling 5 times the speed of sound passes us by, we can begin to suspect we are not alone in this universe. And yet, despite the difficulties of family during the holidays, we are reminded that nothing is more important than building a generous and loving community.
What is our response to life? We must hope. We must sing. We must believe. We must break bread together. Christ reveals the essential foundation of the world around us--the reality of resurrection. Corporeal life may end in physical death. But Death itself is never more powerful than Life. When we celebrate Life in the moment, we experience a form of resurrection, a constant renewal of hope, that makes the difficult journey worth our effort.
Thank you for joining me in this foray into merriment, love, and sorrow; a look at life that cherises both the mundane and Transcendent. Thank you and I’ll see you next Monday.
*a previous version of this post was released in 2021 for Rise Media
ℹ️ Read more about Monday’s Don’t Suck here.
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