Amanda and I recently purchased a 2008, Toyota Prius. I drove to seminary with two of my commuting buddies, Bob and Michael. As we were leaving class, I went through this long discourse explaining how the diagram on the touch screen was showing us where the car was drawing power, whether it be from the electric motor, the gas motor, or the giant battery… or all three. When I got done explaining all of this, I believe it was Bob who pointed out that the entire time I was talking I didn’t look at the road once. After this observation Michael mused, “ I wonder how many people wreck their cars while looking at their GPS?” and there it was, and we all knew it as soon as Michael said it. This was a statement that spoke to all of us at our core, because it was a lot deeper than GPS’ and car crashes.
GPS is an image of what is real. It shows us where we are, it tells us where we are going, but it remains just an image. If we spend too much of our time looking at where we want to go, it won’t be long before we steer the vehicle off of a cliff. It reminds me of C.S. Lewis talking about how theology is like a map: a map of the Pacific Ocean is not the Pacific Ocean. It cannot capture the vastness, the awesomeness, the beauty of the Pacific Ocean. The map is only a representation, a small image of the very real thing behind it.
GPS is a moving map, and while looking at where we want to be we’ll rarely see the red light set in place to stop us from a major collision.
I want to be at my destination. I want to reside in a place where pain does not exist, and wounds from the past are healed and do not leave scars as reminders. I want to shave a few minutes off of my estimated time of arrival by driving recklessly and rapidly. I refuse to see the obstacles set before me (or behind me). I refuse to see the stop sign, the red light, the cross walk, the railroad crossing, the school bus, or the speed limit sign. To stop and look up is to acknowledge what has been, and to cease striving toward what will never be.
To stop is grief
To stop is pain
To stop is death
Grief… of what cannot be
Pain… of what once was
Death… because there is no life in the destination
I will stop and look. One day I will turn and face the things that have haunted me. And on that day I will grieve and weep and mourn. But today is not that day, and tomorrow is not looking too promising either. My heart is just too hard to weep for myself. My heart is just too proud for tears. My soul is too angry to feel the sadness it works diligently to hide. I will fix my gaze upon the image of the destination and I will drive as fast as I can. And one day I will stop; whether I run out of gas or blindly drive off of a cliff, I will stop. And oh what a day that will be! That will be the day that I start living. Today I will refuse comfort, today repression reigns supreme. But someday I will give heed to this command:
“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
I cannot divert my eyes from you forever. I cannot refuse your comfort much longer.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.
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