“And if you aren’t careful, it can actually be really really convincing. If I wasn’t a Christian, I’d probably be a Buddhist.” I took a drink of my coffee and looked at Taylor. She might be right. We landed in Nepal yesterday and I’ve been telling people that I learned more about Jesus in the last two days of international travel alone with 6 friends than I have in the last 4 months of the Race. Which might not be true, but it sure did feel like it.
First, I learned that God is so faithful. Of all the complications that we ran into, without praying through and giving up control, we would never have made it all the way here. I looked around on the plane and saw that of the 50 people on the squad, there was a very specific reason that each individual that was on that airplane was part of the group for a reason. What was in Nepal for us?
Second, I learned through crazy airport security and being in the midst of many religions while travelling, it is undeniably evident through the way people live their lives who has Jesus and who doesn’t. When we’re in tune with the Spirit, it notices it in other people.
I left that airport feeling like I was walking hand-in-hand with Jesus and I went to dinner tonight questioning everything I’d ever learned. Because she really was right. The entire idea they were presenting in front of us was so convincing. We are staying at a backpacker hostal, so there are people from all over the world here. Nepal is kind of the poster place for finding yourself. With its evident diverse population and zen culture, youth would come from all over the world to find peace and themselves. I expected to enter into a dark place and have my heart broken for the lost people here. In some circumstances, I did. But for the most part, I ran into a lot of really encouraging, happy, peaceful people just searching for more happiness. You can tell they’re looking for something more than themselves and something fulfilling, but for the time being, they are the most present people I’ve ever met. They don’t want or need anything more than this moment.
When we visited one of the temples, Lindsey said she felt very heavy because of everything around her. I told her that was just a really evident indication of the solidity of her faith. These people continue to search because they’re so empty that they don’t have anything to compare it to. Everything just rolls off their back and nothing satisfies so they move on to the next place, tirelessly looking for something to bring them a joy that won’t fade so quickly. How interesting that major temples and intricate architecture can mean the absolute world to some people and mean nothing to other people. If there’s only one truth and everyone thinks they know it then isn’t the term, ‘holy’ only relevant per individual?
My eyes fill with tears and I don’t know why. Freedom has a way of making you consider your whole life as a means by brainwash. Maybe my heart really does break for them. Or maybe it breaks for me because I understand what it means to search and I want to hug them tight and just cry into their ear, “I get it.“
That’s what confuses me about community sometimes. It makes sense that one can thrive and prosper in the presence of people who are passionate about the same things they are. But when you consider eternal happiness, wouldn’t it be a power that could be sustained without the presence of others? If it’s such a personal relationship, then why is fellowship as crucial as it is? Why is it so easy to crumble under the weight of anything else if you have the holy truth everyone is so desperately looking for? Christians and Buddhists both have convincing answers. It’s almost as if the two have so much in common that terminology is the only differing factor.
I’ll let you in on a secret; I believe in God because I’m honestly terrified to believe in anything else, especially nothing at all. It’s comforting to live in the midst of security by belief while still having reign of control in my life. I always seem to write myself around to a conclusion, for I know that only good comes from giving up control. Why then is surrender such a scary concept? Because I forget freedom. I forget that where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom – so much freedom. Chains broken to go into dark places and bright light. Openness to befriend the worst sinners and bring them life, because while I was the worst sinner, Christ gave His life. It’s not about going from doubt to panic to questions, it’s about the fact that none of it matters anyways because nothing is too much to separate ME from the love of Christ.
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38
I am death. My life is fallen and hopeless and surrounded by powers at war. And none of it can separate me from the love of Christ. He chases me.
So I still wonder. I ponder the meaning of the word ‘holy’ and I think long and hard about the fragility of the psuedo-joy that these wanderers have. I don’t think salvation is a synonym for contentment. I don’t think the fact that I have questions is proof that God isn’t real, I think it’s a testament to the fact that He thinks I’m strong enough to keep walking this life and asking away.
Nepal, Jesus is chasing you. I will be your light.
