My skateboarding husband and I were watching a movie about
his recently adopted sport. At one point, the interviewer asked the
interviewees to tell him about a skateboarding legend named Rodney Mullen. This
is a guy who revolutionized the world of skateboarding. He ushered in the age
of modern street skating by doing things with the board that no one had ever
seen or even imagined. He didn’t change or improve on how other skaters used a
board. He looked at what the board could do, created something radically new,
and made the impossible possible.
The guys being interviewed gave each other sheepish looks
and one of them shook his head. “Man,” he said, “how do we talk about him
without sounding like total nerds.” Then they went on to discuss him in awed
tones, like he was Jesus Christ or something. They sounded like total,
star-struck, bromance nerds.
It was great, and I completely understand, because I feel
the same way when somebody actually asks me about Jesus Christ. “Man, how do I
talk about Him without sounding like a total nerd?” Because you can try to play
it cool when it comes to talking about someone who is so fascinating, and so
outrageous, who changed the world and saved your life—but if you can actually
manage to stay cool, you don’t really get it.
Jesus didn’t see humanity in terms of anything we’d done or
said in the past. He saw what we could be and then made being our best selves
possible—not by giving our past a pass, but by redeeming it, by loving us
enough to die for us, by calling us friends, by making us children of God. Jesus, by dying on the cross, made the
impossible possible.
And I’m totally star-struck, in love, obsessed with Him. I’m
a Jesus nerd.
