I’m finally reading Donald Miller’s first book, “Blue Like Jazz.” Thank you Mo for sending it in the mail! It’s ridiculously good, that’s all I can say about it. But, it’s dangerous. It’s outside the box, it’s risky. It could probably get you kicked out of certain groups. Read it.

One of the many many things that I like so far is the story Donald heard a folksinger telling at a concert, about a group of Navy SEALS who were attempting to rescue some hostages who had been imprisoned for months. Here’s the way Donald tells it:

“The hostages were curled up in a corner, terrified. When the SEALS entered the room, they heard the gasps of the hostages. They stood at the door and called to the prisoners, telling them they were Americans. The SEALS asked the hostages to follow them, but the hostages wouldn’t. They sat there on the floor and hid their eyes in fear. They were not of healthy mind and didn’t believe their rescuers were really Americans.

“The SEALS stood there, not knowing what to do. They couldn’t possibly carry everybody out. One of the SEALS, the folksinger’s friend, got an idea. He put down his weapon, took of his helmet, and curled up tightly next to the other hostages, getting so close his body was touching some of theirs. He softened the look on his face and put his arms around them. He was trying to show them he was one of them. None of the prison guards would have done this. He stayed there for a little while until some of the hostages started to look at him, finally meeting his eyes. The Navy SEAL whispered that they were Americans and were there to rescue them. Will you follow us? he said. The hero stood to his feet and one of the hostages did the same, then another, until all of them were willing to go. The story ends with all the hostages safe on an American aircraft carrier.

“I never liked it when the preachers said we had to follow Jesus. Sometimes they would make Him sound angry. But I liked the story the folksinger told. I liked the idea of Jesus becoming man, so that we would be able to trust Him, and I like that He healed people and loved them and cared deeply about how people were feeling….”

“The magical proposition of the gospel, once free from the clasps of fairy tale, was very adult to me, very gritty like something from Hemingway or Steinbeck, like something with copious amounts of sex and blood. Christian spirituality was not a children’s story. It wasn’t cute or neat. It was mystical and odd and clean, and it was reaching into dirty. There was wonder in it and enchantment.”