Exposing Mythology Part 3: Cooling Off

I love pizza--especially when it's really good restaurant pizza. Some of my favorite memories from high school involve eating pizza, most notably the first time I ate at Giordano's in Chicago.

For those of you who have never partaken of the legend and ultimately euphoric cheesy-goodness that is Giordano's Stuffed Pizza, you have not yet lived.

The first and only time I went there was en route to a high school youth conference. The youth group had been aimlessly wandering the streets of Chicago for about four hours and all of our stomachs had begun to growl. We arrived at Giordano's at 6:30, and learned there was a problem with our reservation. After some pastoral finagling (or 'holy peer pressure') we got in, sat down and ordered. By this point it was nearly 7:15 and the creature in my stomach was itching to make an appearance, a la Alien 1.

By the time the much anticipated stuffed pizza arrived at our tables, a hungry lion wouldn't have stood a chance with any of us. Each person in the youth group grabbed a piece and greedily jerked it onto the waiting flatware.

And there I was in the midst of the chaos asking myself that most important of questions: Do I wait until it cools or bite now?

With all the wisdom that a starving sophomore boy could muster in such a situation, I thrust the pizza into my mouth and bit down into the oily, cheesy and meaty goodness. As you can probably guess, the pizza's temperature was hovering somewhere around 10,000 degrees at that point. Brilliance.

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I often feel like Peter in Luke 5--awaking to the reality of the miraculous and life-giving person of Jesus Christ. But I frequently find myself lacking the same kind of follow-through that Peter displayed in that story. Whereas Peter immediately dropped to his knees and engaged the divine, I am unwilling do the same.

There is a myth that rules my life in these situations--the myth of cooling off. In this fantasy realm, my all too frequent response (continuing along the lines of Peter's story) is to haul the fish into the boat and wait for a few days until the stark reality of my own depravity has lost some of its sting.

How could I, after all, engage with the Almighty when I am so dark, depraved and ugly. How can I, when my clothes are torn and tattered, present myself to the Father that I want so desperately to be proud of me?

I can't let him see me like this.

And so I let it subside for awhile, treating my Father as if he were some tyrannical, tempermental dictator that is more to be feared than loved. In reality, this is nothing other than pride masquerading as humility--"I'll just deal with this problem myself. It really only affects me." How foolish to assume God is too hateful to love, or too angry to forgive. How silly to think the passing of time lessens the load of guilt or heals the relational fracture. Time does not heal all wounds--it simply aids the spread of gangrene.

Cooling off is a myth, and I'm not going to live that way anymore. This is the true story with which I will replace it.

Hebrews 4: 14-16

14Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. 15For we donot have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. 16Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

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Looking back on the situation, I was the only one to bite the pizza right away. I bit boldly, with confidence trusting in the ultimate goodness of the pizza. And as I walked away from the retaurant that night with a burned mouth, I knew I would never be the same again.