“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all.  Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around – nobody big, I mean—except me.  And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff.  What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff – I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them.  That’s all I do all day.  I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.  I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be.”  —Holden Caulfield (J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye, Ch. 22)

Two weeks ago, while hiking along the South Fork Creek, we came across a pack of coyotes on the hunt. Several coyotes fled upon our arrival, but one of them relentlessly held the head of his prey—a mule deer fawn—under the water attempting to snuff out its life. Our natural inclination was to move toward the coyote and save the deer…which we did. Upon taking a few steps closer, the coyote released the deer and rushed to the other side the creek and ran along the ridge until she was out of view. The fawn emerged from the water, gasped for a breath of life-giving oxygen, and dashed away.  Regardless of the fact that I interrupted the “circle of life,” I was extremely pleased with myself, and so were my friends. We saved an innocent deer from destruction. We fulfilled our duty as the “protectors” and “redeemers” of the planet.

I used to believe that saving people was one of the primary commissions of those who follow Christ. Whether that be supporting someone who’s abusing drugs, guiding someone out of self-inflicted pain, or finding a solution to someone’s problems…even if that person isn’t asking for a solution. In Salinger’s The Cather in the Rye, Holden Caulfield was overwhelmingly concerned about the ducks in the pond and where they went in the winter…he wanted to rescue the ducks before the ice consumed the pond. Holden also wanted to keep innocent children innocent. He wanted to catch them while they played in the rye…before they fell off the cliff and into the abyss of adulthood. Like Holden Caulfield, I wanted to be the savior of the world. I wanted to rescue the innocent deer, the unsuspecting ducks, and the naïve children. My ambition was to save the lost…even if they didn’t want to be saved. I wanted to “cure” people even if they weren’t ready to be “cured.” I believed that “saving” was my calling as a Christian. My self-righteousness was wrapped up in my own “savior complex.” I was obsessed with solving others’ problems instead of focusing on solving my own. I wanted to be like Jesus—a savior.

The true Savior of the world didn’t have a savior complex. Jesus stated the facts, put all the cards on the table, and asked us to choose. If we chose to ignore Him, He lets us walk away. He doesn’t chase us down or catch us before we drop off the cliff. In fact, he stands by and watches us fall…if that’s what we choose to do. Jesus respects our decisions…even if those are the dumbest decisions on the planet.

If we chose salvation, the road ahead is a difficult one. Jesus is the personification of “tough love.” Jesus doesn’t promise an easy road to recovery and redemption. Jesus doesn’t promise an immediate solution to all our problems. He is our Savior, because his presence on this earth, his sacrifice on the cross, and his defeat over death all demonstrate the love of God and His passion to get his family back. Jesus represents the extent to which God goes to search for his family, the lengths to which God respects our freedom to choose—even at the expense of his only Son. “Love” is the essence of “Savior.” Salvation cannot occur without love.

A savior complex exists because we ourselves possess an unhealthy need to solve someone else’s problems primarily because we don’t want to face our own. True salvation flows out of love. It’s perfectly acceptable to desire another’s salvation. To wish that your brother or sister be free to breathe again…be free from the grasp of a hungry coyote. Problems arise when we conclude that we can save them on our own. We are commissioned as witnesses to love others and testify about God’s love evident in Christ’s power to save us. Witnesses share how Jesus has transformed their life and then allow the judge to decide for him or herself whether that testimony is valid. If the judge chooses otherwise, we have to step back and allow that judge to wander through the fields of rye and pray he or she doesn’t fall off the cliff.

As much as it pains me to watch the innocent wander aimlessly…as much as I desire—as Holden Caulfield does—to stand on the edge of the cliff waiting to catch my brothers and sisters, I have to accept the fact that I can’t save them…but Jesus can.

…and that’s good enough!

There’s something imbedded within the human condition…a desire to place ourselves in adventurous, challenging, and perplexing contexts. Some of us fulfill that desire by simply engaging in a relationship with a member of the opposite sex (that can be adventurous, challenging and perplexing enough), while others enjoy a good mystery novel or watching television programs like Criminal Minds or Lost. I remember watching the first few minutes of Lost and thinking to myself, “Huh?” and then the title slowly floats across the screen as if to say, “Get ready to be lost!” Some play videos games, some compete in sporting events, some go scuba diving, and some climb mountains. Whatever it may be, I’ve discovered that feeling lost or searching for someone or something that’s lost isn’t necessarily exciting, but it is stimulating. When you’re lost or you’re seeking the lost, your heart starts pounding, you’re filled with adrenaline, and your agility is enhanced.

On the first night of our last backpacking trip, we came across two hikers down by the shores of Grant Lake. Their friend, John, had left five hours earlier in order to climb a nearby ridge, check out the view, and return before dusk. John’s buddies were worried for their friend and had started searching for him as the sun began to set just below the ridge. John had about an hour of daylight left before the darkness and freezing cold temperatures bounded and engulfed him. As we sat around our warm fire that night and the voices of John’s friends reverberated off the canyon’s walls, we prayed for John.

The next morning, we woke early and prepared to join our new friends in a search and rescue party. After fueling up with oatmeal, pumping fresh water, and praying for our efforts and John’s safety, we divided into pairs and started to scramble up toward the top of the ridge. Keeping within line-of-sight, we searched for John and called out his name. Our hearts were pounding and adrenaline flowed through our veins. We hoped and prayed that we would find him and we anticipated the joy we would experience when we did. After two hours of searching, a voice echoed from the base camp below informing those of us up on the ridge that they found John. We were filled with joy, the lost had been found. Apparently, John mistakenly took the wrong ridge back down and couldn’t find his way back to his camp. He wandered several miles south until he reached Tioga Road and fell asleep in the ditch. Several hours later, a park ranger found him in the ditch and drove him to the Tuolumne Meadows Ranger Station.

Jesus told three parables about seeking the lost. One was about a lost sheep. The shepherd left 99 sheep at home in order to find the one sheep that had wandered off. The second parable was about a woman who lost a coin. She stopped everything to search for her lost coin and once she found it, she invited all of her friends and family over for a party. The final parable was about a son who wished his father dead, acquired his inheritance, squandered it in frivolous hedonism, only to return home to the welcoming arms of his loving father who proceeded in sacrificing the fatted calf for a celebratory feast in honor of his son’s return…because his son was lost and was now found. Jesus said, “There is more joy in heaven over one lost sinner who repents and returns to God than over ninety-nine others who are righteous and haven’t strayed away!” (Luke 15:7).

No one wants to find him or herself out in the middle of the wilderness, alone, cold, and possessing no comprehension as to one’s next move. Being lost is not desirable, but it does stimulate the desire to be found. Being lost instills a longing to be back where you belong, a longing to be warm, safe, and surrounded by people you love and you know love you. The looming question is:

Do we perpetually wander until we’re lost in order to be found.

The Apostle Paul writes, “Well then, should we keep on sinning so that God can show us more and more of his wonderful grace? Of course not! Since we have died to sin, how can we continue to live in it?” (Romans 6:1-2).

So no, we don’t intentionally try to get lost. Jesus is warning against self-righteous stagnation and righteous indignation toward the lost. Instead of shunning the lost, we should have a loving desire to find them. Instead of guarding ourselves from sinners, we should join the Search and Rescue teams and seek them out. Furthermore, we should recognize that there is always going to be a fragment of our heart that is lost. We are all broken and we all fall short (Romans 3:23). So instead of standing aside and complaining about our brothers—who were previously engaged in debauchery and are now enjoying the fatted calf with our Father—we could better stand in front of a mirror, admit our own debauchery, and join the feast. It’s more fun and tastes a lot better than the bitterness of resentment.

I long for your salvation, LORD, and your law gives me delight. Let me live that I may praise you, and may your laws sustain me. I have strayed like a lost sheep. Seek your servant, for I have not forgotten your commands.

—Psalm 119:174-176

The frigid air blustered off the lake, through the tops of the pines, and into the small window of my tent, as I laid there awake—impatiently anticipating the break of dawn.

I never sleep well on the trail. I’m always exhausted, but the cold temperatures, the soreness within my body, and the orchestra of snoring that explodes from my fellow comrades prevents the Sandman from entering my domain. I just lay there…praying for sleep. Eventually, when the sleep refrains, I admit defeat and just pray for daylight.

That was the situation this past Friday morning. We had a huge trek looming in the near future. We were going to hike three miles down to the South Fork Valley, three miles along the South Fork to the base of the ascent, and then three miles to the summit of Tuolumne Peak…up 2500 vertical feet. I was excited and ready, but I worried about my aptitude for this climb. I didn’t sleep much…if any at all, and a cold virus had taken over my body Wednesday morning and was now escalating. Cold sores were invading my face and my sinus pressure was surmounting. The negative external factors were steadily increasing, causing fear and worry.

As we began the three-mile descent into the valley, I found myself staring at the trail in front of me rather than looking up and around at God’s spectacular enveloping creation. When I looked at the trail, my focus was limited to those elements within my vicinity…within my grasp. My thoughts turned inward…I dwelled on my sickness, my pains, my fatigue, and my limitations. The longer I stared at the trail, the more discouraged I became, bitterness and frustration swelled, and the goal of reaching the summit seemed far-fetched and insurmountable.

Eventually, we reached a clearing that looked out into the vast wilderness. We could see for miles. On display before us was one of God’s greatest masterpieces—granite sculpted by God’s glacial chisel. It was breathtaking. To the southeast, we could see our destination—Tuolumne Peak. My thoughts of desperation suddenly disappeared. I had a purpose…a reason to do the things I was about to do. As I continued on, I came to a realization: whenever I would gaze down toward the earth, my efforts became futile; whenever I would gaze upward…toward my goal, I would receive strength and encouragement. In due course, I reached the peak and sat high above the canvas composed of granite, pine, water, and ice and I praised the Creator—not only for this work of genius that stretched out beyond the horizon, but for God’s magnum opus…humankind. I praised God for the faith, courage, and conviction he gives to us when we look toward the heavens and fix our eyes on Jesus Christ who is “the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:2). I confessed for all the times I set my mind on earthly things, and let those things discourage me and infuse bitterness within my heart and soul.

Eight months ago, I received a letter from someone I deeply cared about that (in effect) terminated our relationship. I had grown to love this entity, respect it, and admire it—it was my employer. I believed with my entire being that God had delivered me to this position. I was convinced that this was my calling. I dedicated my entire life to serving my employer with loyalty and passion. I felt like a lover scorned…I still do. Whenever I gaze upon the trail, and my thoughts turn inward I become bitter and resentful. Whenever I worry about tomorrow…my mortgage, my financial situation, my future career, the anger swells into hatred and malice. Like an estranged lover, I lash out.

Why I believe my own bitterness, resentment, and rage will harm my former employer rather than further harm myself is beyond me? I know I need it to abscond. When this occurs, I’ve discovered a solution—an escape. By looking up, I find release from these things that bind me. If I focus on Christ, instead of earthly thing—the things along the trail—be that financial problems, career changes, frustrations, pains, fatigue, bitterness, and rage—by looking up, these things blow away with the wind down into the vast granite valley that lies before me. By dying to this life and the worries it carries, and looking up toward Christ at the right hand of God, my rage and bitterness disappear. By looking up, my goal is a reality and I’m assured that someday I’ll sit upon the mountain peak of God, high above His great canvas, and praise the Creator for all eternity.

“Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God. And when Christ, who is your life, is revealed to the whole world, you will share in all his glory.”

—Colossians 3:1-4

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Capacity for good? I frequently question this blanket statement made by Jor-El (Superman’s father) as his motivation for sending his only son to the blue planet with the yellow sun:

“Even though you’ve been raised as a human being, you are not one of them. They can be a great people, they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you, my only son.” 

Kal-El’s purpose was to be the light for a people who are corrupt with greed, gluttony, lust, and wrath; to provide guidance to a human race that has the capacity for good, but is so wrapped up in their own depravity, they have no way of knowing how to escape it’s grasp.

On this tenth anniversary of the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, I ask this very question: Do we honestly have the capacity for good? As much as the actions of terrorists are abhorrent and inexcusable, I don’t sit here and simply reflect on the malevolent acts of the Taliban or Islamist Jahidists. I have to in (all good) conscience, consider the motivation behind their actions. When I observe the greed and gluttony of American executives I can’t help but experience feelings of revulsion. Then there’s reality television. I apologize in advance to those of you who like these television programs, however, if you actually step back and contemplate the appeal, you may come to some enlightening conclusions as to why you like them. Programs like Fox’s Excused,  NBC’s Love in the Wild and ABC’s The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and their newest and lowest debauchery, The Bachelor Pad illustrate the desperate need and desire all human beings have for deep, spiritual, and meaningful relationships in a way that demoralizes and fractures the very essence of God’s gift of passion, eroticism, love, and intimacy. It isn’t surprising that Islamic extremist are so enraged with American culture and society.

I’m not an innocent bystander to the decadence…in fact I’m often a part of it. I do believe that we can be a great people. I do believe that we have the capacity for good…but the goal of Kal-El was not exactly the goal of Jesus Christ—to provide us with the light in order to find our way to being good. Not at all!

God sent his only Son as the Light of the World not to guide us into being good, but to save us from evil. Jor-El is stating a Gnostic concept instead of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Like Kal-El, Jesus is a Savior who stands for truth and justice—I’ll refrain from “The American Way” because frankly, I’m not exactly sure what that is and if it’s even desirable. Unlike Kal-El, Jesus was not indestructible…in fact He suffered the greatest suffering and died on the cross to save us from the evil that destroys and corrupts. Jesus doesn’t lead us into finding some gnosis or knowledge that will elevate us out of the garbage of sin and into the heavenly realm of goodness. From an evolutionary perspective, evil, greed, gluttony, lust, violence…these qualities advance one upward. If we fall back on Gnosticism—to elevate us from evil into goodness, we will be defeated because goodness does not bring success in this world. You’ve heard the statement: “Good guys finish last.” From a worldly, materialistic philosophy, that statement is correct.

From a biblical perspective, we were created good. We fell from that goodness and no matter what guidance we receive…no matter how bright and powerful that guidance may be, we are simply not capable for good on our own. By disobeying God, human beings were placed on a path east of Eden…a path that ultimately leads to eternal death—separation from God. There is only one path back to the goodness of the created order. We needed someone, human and frail, sinless and good from birth to death as our substitute…to die in our place. Therein is the reason why we need Jesus—not as a guide into the goodness that we inherently possess, but as a substitutiary atonement. Jesus is the good that God sees when he sees us.

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. But he has appeared once for all at the culmination of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.

—Hebrews 2:14-17; 9:26-28

Jor-El isn’t God the Father, so he doesn’t quite grasp the depth of human depravity. We are great and capable of good, but we are not capable of attaining—through our own volition—the perfect greatness and flawless goodness that was necessary to appease God’s wrath toward unrighteousness…no matter how bright Kal-El’s light. Jesus is the Light of the World, whose death was the propitiation for my sins. Now, as God looks upon my face, he sees me as GOOD, because He sees the face of His only Son.

The leaves of the neighborhood maple and oak trees were transforming from light green to brilliant oranges and reds. The marigolds bordering the driveways and sidewalks were full and dazzling as they danced in the brisk, fall breeze. The walk home from Lincoln Elementary School in Sioux City, Iowa should have been a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting composed of yellows, oranges, and burgundies. It was, however, not a Norman Rockwell painting, because behind the old oak tree near the corner of Douglas Ave. and 34^th street, Larry was lying in wait. He would attack from the rear, spin me around, and punch me in the gut. This chronic ritual occurred every day after school for several weeks. I would take different routes home; I would do anything to avoid confrontation.

8 years later, the smell of hotdogs and popcorn, the sound of the crowd cheering for their hometown football team, his flaming red hair, and the impacts of Curt’s fists against my face permeated my senses. I was a freshman in high school, standing one level of the bleachers below Curt, receiving a plethora of sucker-punches in direct retaliation to my quiet, subdued presence that had apparently disrupted Curt’s evening. I stood there, lips bleeding (because of my braces—not his poor excuses for punches), and did nothing. I would do anything to avoid confrontation.

Fear is a four-letter word that haunts me, dominates me, and discourages me!

The Christian leaders who tell us that when we submit to Christ, our lives will improve, that the beer will flow like wine, and beautiful women will instinctively flock our direction like the salmon of Capistrano are liars. When we decided to fall under the Lordship of Jesus, we pledged to pick up our crosses and follow Jesus into battle…a battle where fear rears its ugly head and the enemy is dead-set on destroying us.

Why do we do it then?

One of the final episodes in the HBO series Band of Brothers is entitled “Why We Fight.” The Band of Brothers series takes you on a journey with Easy Company—a paratrooper regiment—from D-Day to the end of the Second World War in Europe. In this episode, Easy Company encounters a death camp. The regiment—who had been questioning their purpose up to this point—discovered why they followed their leaders into battle. Why they did what they did and risked what they risked. They were fighting an enemy who stole peoples’ freedom…an enemy who killed, maimed, and destroyed; they were fighting for life, for freedom, for redemption.

This is why we follow Jesus. We follow Jesus because we believe that life, freedom, and redemption are worthy ventures…they’re worth sacrificing all of who we are—including our lives. We don’t follow Jesus because the Christian life provides us with something materialistic or it enriches our lives by providing us with easy living or earthly possessions. If those are the reasons why we pursue Jesus, once the Larrys and Curts of the world decide to compensate for their lack of self-esteem and fire their weapons in our direction, we will either be paralyzed in fear, or turn-tail and run in order to avoid confrontation.

I think one of the main reasons I find Samwise Gamgee, the Hobbit gardener from the Lord of the Rings trilogy, so compelling is because this character embodies a part of who I am, who I might have been, and who I want to become. At first, Samwise is afraid of his own shadow. Eventually, however, Samwise says the following:

“I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something—that there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.”

Samwise overcame his fears because he believed there was some good in the world and it was worth fighting for. Courage filled his very being…the kind of courage I want to fill my soul.

Following Christ is definitely worth the risks, and He does promise us power and courage to fight the battle that lies before us.

In Acts 4, the early believers, after enduring persecution and imprisonment, pray for courage. They were afraid, people wanted to kill them, so they asked God to help them. It’s interesting that they didn’t ask for God to destroy their enemies, or change their circumstances, they just asked for courage…and God answered by filling them with the Holy Spirit.

One can translate the Hebrew word ruach as either “spirit” or “courage.” Being filled with the Holy Spirit is often thought of as being filled with God’s power. A better interpretation would be being filled with God’s courage.

Erwin McManus writes in his book Uprising:

“Only when you embrace God’s calling on your life will you need God-inspired courage. We often ask for God’s power to accomplish our small dreams. We should instead cry out for God’s courage to step out on His bold adventure.”

I’m not a natural-born hero…definitely evident in my inability to defend myself against Larry or Curt. Some people may be born with courage running through their blood. Others may foolishly jump into battle without the needed fear that makes them sensible. I think most people are like me. I’m afraid of the enemy and I fear the weapons he might use against me…be it attacks at my character, false accusations, addictions, relationship problems, financial hardships, sickness, death. Whatever arrows the enemy hurls in my direction, I know that I can ask God for the same courage those early believers asked for…and I’m assured that God will give it to me.

Give me your courage, so that I may take on these trials with boldness and be victorious.

With the Spirit of God thriving inside me, I can overcome my fears, and press on for there is some good in this world that’s worth fighting for: redemption, freedom, and life in the arms of Jesus Christ.