(Warning: Stereotypical Christian post quoting the hymnic genius of U2. Even I am not immuned.)
The other day I was ambushed by a new Austin friend in the parking lot. Without any introductory conversation, he immediately begins to ask for my prayers. He says he need to confess some things, and in a spout of sincere logorrhea he shared about a crazy few days of sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Here’s the thing: we barely know each other, and he has no reason to trust me. And in the secular setting we have most of our interactions, the things he was confessing would usually receive more cheers than prayers. In a few uncensored moments, he shared his heart, I prayed for him, and we went our separate ways.
As I drove away, Bono came on the radio, singing
I tied myself with wire
To let the horses roam free
Playing with the fire
Until the fire played with me
This guy’s life was clearly sinful, sad, even despicable. But I didn’t condemn my friends actions. I did not need to. He was already burnt.
He came to me, because he had reached was ready to leave the fire alone. He was going to say what he needed to say, to repent, to get it off his chest, even if it cost him. Bono went on:
I was punching in the numbers at the ATM machine
I could see in the reflection
A face staring back at me
At the moment of surrender
Of vision over visibility
I did not notice the passers by
And they did not notice me
The song has a tune that feels lifted form an easy listening jazz song, placed on top of a constant, driving rhythm. It’s sounds like night time in New York or Paris, when life is subdued, but never really stops. It reminds me of the almost quiet, but never silent moments that seem to crowd my own life.
It tells the story of a man who decides to surrender, despite those passing by him. He has gotten to the point that it doesn’t matter what other people will think. All he knows it that if he ever wants to experience life, a true, deep, real and meaningful life, if he wants “vision over visibility” he is going to have to give up.
Sometimes I wonder how many of us who claim to be Christians have reached a moment of surrender. We chose to follow Christ because all of the other kids in the youth group were doing it, or because we were scared of hell, or to impress some girl. We might even go to church on Sundays, give 2-3% of our income to something charitable and even volunteer on Thanksgiving. But surrender is something different. Surrender means reaching the moment when you know you are totally screwed. You’ve tried everything, failed, and know that if you try any further you will get yourself killed. Surrender means giving up everything because it is the only way you know you will survive.
I want to reach the moment of surrender, and I want to see others as well. The moment when you give up your goals and ask God what he wants you to do. When you realize your hard earned material possessions are just on loan from God. When you stop looking for the perfect Church and find satisfaction is serving an imperfect one. When you cease being angry at other people for their failure or jealous of their successes, because that doesn’t have anything to do with you anyways. Words like “I deserve it” cease passing through your lips.
When you’ve surrendered you live with this tension of not knowing what is coming in the future and trying to believe that it is better than anything you might come up with on your own. It is scary, painful, and only way you can learn to relax and start to believe in a loving God.
And when you reach the moment of surrender, no one’s thoughts or opinions matter, you can rest, like Bono, who sang:
I did not notice the passers by
And they did not notice me
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