Taking the Bullet

Maggie and I spent Valentine's evening at home watching three episodes of Stargate.The collusion of the Trinity as to which episodes gives my sense of story/plotting a visceral buzz. ☺ I am such a girl, and I'm about to give you indisputable proof.

In the second episode, Col. O'Neill and Major Carter had to admit their feelings for each other to literally save their lives. (Ah, to be a television sci-fi writer.) Below you'll find the transcript of F.'s interview with O'Neill regarding an incident that nearly killed him and Carter:

F: "You did everything you could. You couldn't save her."
O: "No."
F: "But you still could have saved yourself?"
O: "I guess."
F: "What happened next? What were you feeling?"
O: "Like someone who was about to die. (Long pause) I didn't leave because I would have rather died myself than lose Carter."

A scene like that pushes every button a girl has. Since it was sort of delicious to contemplate I ran it through the grid with Jesus. (I condense and paraphrase.)

Me: "So why is it every girl would love to hear something like that said about her?"
Jesus: "Good grief, pointless question; you know why."
M: "Yeah, okay. ☺ But I'd still love to hear it about me."
J: "You've heard it."
M: *blink-blink*
J: "Happy Valentine's Day."

Has the impact of Jesus' death ever been lost on you because He died for bazillions of people? I think it's been lost on me my whole life. I've always known I was part of that bazillion, and appreciated it to the point of throwing in my lot with Him. But because of that very idea of a "collective whole" I never felt much like He died for me. It wasn't till I read Frank Viola's comments on Song of Solomon in "From Eternity to Here" that I began to understand the love of Jesus for every individual part of the Bride. Duh. He's a lover after all, and acts like one. (Melissa just wrote a brilliant little exposé on the subject on the LPM blog.)

But obviously I hadn't got it because His comment after Stargate caught me off-guard. Jesus made the very same decision Col. O'Neill made, only He had to go through with it. He died, rather than lose us. Me. Lose me.

What would that look like? What would that feel like? Sounds like? Smell like? I tried to imagine myself on the peak of Golgotha that Friday morning. I kept hearing birds, and the noise of the city behind me, smelling the smoke of the dump just down the hill, seeing the clouds I always imagine preceded the darkness at noon, hearing a distinct lack of dramatic music. Silence. Lots of silence. And breeze.

This is actually an open-ended post because I'm still trying to grasp this. The trouble with my imagination is a.) had I truly been there, I would not have realized He was dying for me [only Caiaphas seemed to understand the substitutionary element pre-resurrection], and b.) oh yeah, the resurrection--I know what happens next. That it's not actually over.

The gift that Stargate episode gave me was vicarious emotion: it's how I should feel about the crucifixion. Reading stuff like this helps put me there, but Jesus knows me, knows my girlish heart, and kindly speaks my language. Over and over and over again. Thanks to stories I am able to better understand, relate to, and therefore appreciate this Guy Who took a bullet for me. I am so grateful. So I respond with my surest sign of affection-- written eulogy. Jesus, You. Are. Amazing.