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 two 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 Mullen 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.