Jason

Jason was cool.  In fact, everything about him was cool.  He was the embodiment of everything that I wanted to be as a 5^th grade male, but wasn’t.  He was funny, athletic, witty, intelligent, well liked by teachers and seemingly all of the 5^th grade girls in Mr. Nelson’s class swooned over him.  In efforts to be like him, I attempted to take on his characteristics.  I mimicked the way that Jason walked, talked and laughed.  I even tried to dress like Jason.  When Jason began wearing pink shirts and white Miami Vice inspired sports coats, I too began to wear “hipper clothing.” The problem lied in the fact that I didn’t have any pink shirts and would have had to resort to either wearing my mother’s pink shirts which were too big or my little sister’s which were way too small.  Additionally the only “sport coat” I could get my hands on was my grandpas old suit coat which was gray and smelled like cigarette smoke.  In the end I settled for a blue pair of suspenders and a white t-shirt.  It did not have quite the same effect.

Needless to say my imitation of Jason was a perpetual exercise of failure.  I could not compete with his naturally suave mannerisms nor draw the attention of the attractive girls with big 80’s hair of the upper echelon’s of Wadena Elementary School. 

One day as I was practicing the fine are of Jasonism, the object of my idolatry dared me to enter the girls bathroom.

“Come on Ryan! Do it! There isn’t anyone in there…just run in and run back out!”

“Oh man, Jason…I don’t know.  Why don’t you do it?”

“Because I have done it lots of times! You need to do it! It is such a rush!”

“Ok…I guess…but you have to stand look out, ok?”

“Sure thing! I got you!”

I worked myself up into a frenzy and with my heart racing and a cold sweat running down my neck I ran into the girls bathroom.  I remember thinking as I turned around to run back out, “huh, what’s the big deal?  It’s just like the boys’ but cleaner and less stinky.” My stomach was fluttering wildly as I emerged from the forbidden room and back into the halls of lower education.  At the moment of my exit, I exhaled the breath that I hadn’t realized that I was holding and took in a deep refreshing breath of the cool stale elementary hallway air.

I had done it.  What a relief!  I was so pleased that I hadn’t gotten caug…  “RYAN! What do you think you are doing?”

It was Mr. Nelson himself.  I hadn’t realized that Jason was MIA.  In fact, all of my buddies were gone.  All that stood before me was Mr. Nelson and a half a dozen confused 5^th grade girls standing behind him.  I can’t prove it but I am pretty sure I had been ratted out.

“I asked you a question….What are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“What were you doing coming out of the girl’s bathroom?”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I went with the only think I could do…I attempted to cast the blame elsewhere.  “Jason told me to do it!”

“Did he? Tell me, If Jason told you to jump off of a cliff…would you do it?”

I told Mr. Nelson “No,” but in reality…maybe.

I find myself astounded as to who I have been willing to follow and even to what lengths.  My past has been far too littered with the following of others and far too seldom following the path of Christ.  Matthew 8:18-22 and Luke 9:57-62, reveal a picture of what it really looks like to follow Jesus.  Jesus does not shy away from the reality that there is a real cost to following Him.  Jesus never promises the life of ease on this journey.  In fact, the promise is just the opposite.  It is a journey of struggle and suffering. The difference between Jason and Jesus is that Jesus won’t leave me, and Jesus won’t lead me astray and Jesus is worth following.

I received my reward in full in following Jason, but now, I long for the reward that can only come in the difficult journey of following Christ.

May we come to choose to follow Jesus.  I guarantee that it won’t be easy…but he guarantees that it will be worth it.