Exiting the Cave

how: part 5

Last time, we saw the truth resurrected; the light breaking in, reaching deep down into the depths of the cave. The day we told the truth.

That day, September 13, 2001, was also the day I went with my aunt Katrina to a bookstore and purchased a copy of the very book I had held in my hands a year before. Except this time I wasn’t excitedly tearing out its pages in a display of utter disregard and antipathy.

This time I sat down with it and did something else— something I never would have expected a year before.

I read it.

In its pages I found something so comprehensively different from life in the cave that I was immediately convinced of its reality. I knew from ample experience that evil was real. I had seen it, felt it, tasted it, become it. It seemed obvious to me even before this point that evil could not be all there was. If darkness was a meaningful concept, it had to be in virtue of the existence of light. If evil was real, goodness too must exist somehow, somewhere, and in those pages I found it— I found him.

As I emerged from the cave to be bathed by rays of golden sunshine, there could be no doubt that the sun was real— that it was in a sense more real than the cave as it could expose and light up and change the cave but not the other way around. It was certainly more powerful than the cave. Where the cave obscured and concealed, the sun made clear and revealed. Down in the cave, lies abounded. Up in the sun they were banished by the indomitable rays of truth.

With the triumphant resurrection of truth came goodness and beauty. My life was radically changed in large part because I was radically changed. I was suddenly a new person with new desires.

In case this has been a bit too cryptic— leaning too heavily on metaphor— I will now explain in more detail what was going on.

As I encountered Jesus and the message of the his gospel I realized that God was real and true and good and that he loved me. So much so that he had given his only son, Jesus, to die in my place and receive the punishment that I deserved. I found out that I could be forgiven and made new and, to my astonishment, that God desired to give this as a gift to anyone who would trust in him. So I did. And it was the easiest and best decision of my life.

I tasted the reality of Jesus’ words: “you shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free” and “therefore if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

Freedom. Grace. Peace. Forgiveness. Joy. Hope. Every bit as sweet and wonderful as it sounds.

I do not mean to suggest that either (1) my life immediately became a paradisical, ‘happily ever after’ fairy tale without any problems or that (2) I would go on to live a life of pristine moral greatness.

There were trials ahead. I would continue to grieve. I would continue to fail, morally. But from within and without the change was unmistakable and unforgettable and throughout the difficulties that lay ahead I was carried along with peace, joy, purpose and hope that were strengthened in the midst of suffering and which strengthened me through it.

I had been carried out of the cave and I would never forget the hands that gently brought me out, full of grace and truth. That light that had come into the world, had now come into my world.

One reason I love sharing this part of my story is that it is fundamentally a story of hope. Mine is not a story of a boy met with great adversity who, through super-human strength of heart, will and mind, rose above it all triumphantly as a great conqueror. If it were true, a story like that may inspire, but it is no guarantee of hope for there is no guarantee the listener possesses the same strengths.

In contrast, mine is a story about a boy who was born to bring light, truth and freedom into the world; to conquer death and offer abundant, eternal life. That boy’s name was not Colton, of course, but Jesus. My story is about how that same Jesus met Colton, as he would meet anyone, and gave him life and hope and victory. And that’s a story of hope that is available to everyone.

Okay, so now you know why I am a Christian, right?

Actually, no.

The journey has only just begun. I have shared a tremendously abridged version of how I became a Christian, but that only tells you how I exited the cave, not by finding or working my way up to the light of day, but by that light breaking in and bringing me out.

It does not tell you why, 24 years later, I am still a Christian or what I have discovered along the way. To answer that question, I invite you to join me on a new quest. A quest that will, among other things, test the veracity of Christian belief.

My story is a wonderful story of hope and transformation, sure, but what if my conversion to Christianity 24 years ago is ultimately a story of exchanging a harmful set of false beliefs for a much more helpful set of false beliefs? What if Christianity is a powerful illusion? Would you want to know? I would.

Or to flip things around— what if it isn’t an illusion— what if it actually is true? Would you want to know? Again, I would, and I hope you would too.

That's what we'll set out to explore next time.