Invariably on my trips to DC I can see someone holding a sign that says, “Jesus Saves.” This time around (today) it was a lady bundled up in a winter jacket waving a flag with words “Jesus Saves.” One half of my brain is in admiration for her sheer commitment to an action that the world would easily dismiss as a waste of time. “Shouldn’t she be gainfully employed somewhere, feeding her family, taking care of them?.” The other half of my brain is thinking, “she’s probably doing more for the Lord than I ever did in my life.” I have been reflecting on and writing these posts for a few years now and my thoughts about that lady waving the flag are like the thoughts I have about the experience of writing these reflections. There is a mix of ambiguous feelings about the whole exercise.
Dopamine
In general, to the things I am committed to doing, I require a certain amount of perfection. The commitment seems tied, nearly always, to seeing immediate, positive results, and to enjoying the very process in and of itself (note the self-centeredness). A kind of dopamine shot. So, when I begin the process, what I am looking for is that perfect idea that is going to give me the biggest reward, the biggest dopamine shot. Every single month, as I approach the deadline for these monthly reflections, I put off the actual act of writing (this one is being written 4 days away from the deadline) until the last minute to try and get that perfect idea. The perfect idea is that I can then start to form and put down in words.
I keep waiting and waiting and usually there is nothing. So, when the deadline looms near, I force myself to open the computer and think about what to write. Usually, nothing comes to mind at first. The deadline looms even closer. At this point I tell the Lord, I got nothing, you must give me something. Then a faint outline of an idea starts to well up. Then I start typing up the words, the words start to flow (as I am doing right now), and I keep going. Eventually the idea starts to take shape. I will occasionally peek back at the readings to reorient myself and then it continues and finally it is done.
I have been writing these reflections for a few years now and the experience of trying to get past writer’s block, to put something down on paper, is always the same. It is Delay, Delay, Delay, Surrender, Bingo, start writing and the words pour out. As I am writing, this overwhelming feeling of “where is this coming from?” starts to hit me. This is where I begin to feel the effects of dopamine, as the idea starts to take shape and becomes increasingly concrete, which feeds the dopamine cycle again.
Faint Outline
The experience has another unique aspect to it. Every single time that I finally get around to starting on the first few words – it is preceded by the faint outline of an idea. Today it was the lady waving that sign, “Jesus Saves.” When I saw that, it reminded me that I had a reflection to write up. But I also knew at that moment that it had something to do with those words. I came back home, pushed off writing again to the end of the day and when I finally opened that empty word document, I wrote the title out as “Jesus Saves.” At this point I have not yet read the readings. So, when I got around to the second reading from Romans, guess what I find in Romans 10:13, “For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Coincidence? Why am I not surprised by this? Every single reflection of mine in the past has worked out in this same fashion. The moment of surrender to His will is enjoined by a rush of His words and connected to my lived experience of something profound or trivial and they all connect back into the reflection.
The Connections
Here is the other curious aspect of this experience, “The Connections.” Alongside this feeling that my words are being directed, and that it is no longer I doing the writing, even though I am doing the writing, there is an also an awareness my imperfections and my unworthiness, and I keep wondering to myself, “Who am I to be writing these things?”, “Why am I the one writing them?”. Someone seems to be yelling, “You hypocrite”, in the back of my head. There is this nagging sense of self-doubt that always accompanies the writing.
Shouldn’t I be attending to what my boss at work wanted me to get done that week? Isn’t what is going to feed my family more important? Should I really be shirking my work for this dopamine shot? Isn’t this selfish? Today I have chosen to write about the experience of writing and the key phrases that I began with were the words on that flag, “Jesus Saves.” But ultimately, I must connect them up to the readings. I made that one connection to Romans a few paragraphs ago. But notice these distractions that came in as I completed that paragraph.
So, I went back to re-read the Gospel readings for this First Sunday of Lent. It is Luke 4, and the “Temptation of Jesus”. Fasting for 40 days in the desert can seem like a pointless exercise to one who knows no better. Yet it was precisely in that moment that Jesus was tempted the most, with bread, with power and with glory. So, if it is pointless, why the temptation? Waving that “Jesus Saves” flag in the middle of a park for no apparent earthly reward or remuneration can seem like a pointless exercise too. Writing these reflections for no worldly reward or remuneration can also seem like a pointless exercise. But I am quite sure, unlike the experience I go through when writing my reflections (and never learn from), that Lady knows better than me that the reward lies in seeing the Lord work quietly and without fanfare. She does it because she delights in knowing that she is being used for His Kingdom. She may not know how. But I do. It certainly sparked an idea for me to write all of this. Maybe it sparked question in a passerby’s mind, what motivates this crazy woman to wave a “Jesus Saves” flag in the middle of winter. Maybe that question is the start of a journey. Maybe that journey leads to salvation in that passerby’s life. Isn’t that reward enough?
[Readings: Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Romans 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13]
