The Cost

                I spent my night at the Gal for what I hope is the last time in a long time.  It wasn’t my plan to go there in the first place:  DUSA (the student union) was holding at dance party at C59, but nobody went to it.  I was later informed that a “dance party” is just your run-of-the-mill club dance anyways.  But I was there, and everyone was going to the Gal, and a few friends begged me to come.  So I did.

                And I won’t claim that I didn’t have any fun.  I love doing the robot, the “zombie rising” (a move I’m still working on), the box wave thing (credit to Chrissy Schoenrock for teaching me), the stanky leg, and occasionally making the girls look foolish by getting them to swing dance with me.  I have a number of good friends that I get to catch up with, and lots more new friends I'm still getting to know.  And I love being the American that everyone wants to know, although the conversations can get a bit predictable (yes, Nebraska is cold, yes, I like Australia, yes, I’m having a good time).  I love Red Bull.  I love loud music.

                But I don’t think I have enough fun to justify the time and money involved.  Obviously, others do find enough in the bars and clubs to make it all worthwhile.  It’s a biweekly occurrence, at least.

People can tell that I’m not fully engaged, though I try to hide it.  They say it’s because I’m not drinking.  If I drank, I could “cut loose” and “let go” and enjoy myself.  Which sounds nice.  They also say it will help me with my social dancing.  See, I do my robot solo, whereas most others find someone to do the robot with.  When girls have tried to do the robot with me, I’ve inconspicuously but quickly robot-ed away.  If I drank, I could just go with it.

I can think of plenty of times hearing from adults that the party scene brings nothing but pain.  After being an observer for just a few nights, I can tell you that that is false.  If it brought only pain, people wouldn’t go out for six hours a night and spend all their money on it.  They do it because it feeds them in some way.  They find life in it.  You can see it in how they act and talk; there is something in the clubs that fills them.

I’ve also heard the message that everyone is looking for Jesus.  I used to disagree with that; obviously not everyone is looking for a closer relationship with Jesus.  But I understand now that everyone is looking for something to fill them.  They are looking for a deeper realm, something free of pain and worry and shame and loneliness.  So there is alcohol, and loud music, and dancing, and social connection.  And for that time, there is a glimpse of fulfillment.  Though I’ve never been drunk, I imagine that it is the grease that makes the machine work smoothly.  Whereas I feel alone in large crowds, maybe with alcohol, I wouldn’t.  Where I feel uncomfortable with being approached by girls that want to do the robot with me, with alcohol, I wouldn’t.  And so it works; the loneliness, the shame, the worry, all of it goes away.

The flip-side, of course, is the aftertaste.  The hangover, the missed classes, the walk of shame, or more seriously, criminal trouble, pregnancies, addictions, health risks, lingering guilt, etc.  The party scene is not all pain, but it certainly brings its share in the end.  I wonder how many men and women can attest to that.

But the pain’s not the issue; it’s the hole, the void in our lives that we simply have to fill.  We can deal with a headache, but we cannot live without love and acceptance and passion.  If partying is the best way to fill our lives, then by all means, we should go wild; the pain is just a necessary evil, the cost of life.

But here’s the full-circle:  Partying is not the only option.  There is a better answer.  There’s a better way!  You don’t build up an immunity to it, it doesn’t get old, it doesn’t taste bitter on your tongue, but it does free you from all the things that hold you back, all the guilt and loneliness and fear and boredom.  It’s Jesus!  A relationship with a God that saved you, that loves you, that has a glorious adventure planned for your life.

But I won’t say that Jesus is free.  His gift is free, but the cost of following him is our life.  But let me tell you, not as an observer but as a participant, that the cost is worth it.  I don’t know from experience, but I wonder if anyone can say that when all the parties are over, years later, when the whole of the cost is measured, the gain is worth the cost.  I wonder if anyone is ever really satisfied by the things at the clubs.

And no, this is not religiosity wrapped in a thin veil of the travel blogosphere.  And yes, I understand that the idea of a relationship with Jesus (not just belief in his existence, but a personal daily intimacy with him) is incredibly foreign, if not foolish, to most everyone I know.  But guess what, if you’ve read this far, you probably either agree with me already, or you’re at least a little interested in this idea.  Either is fine.  For those of you who don’t understand what a relationship with Jesus is like or what it can do to your life, I don’t blame you; most Christians I know don’t get it either, at least for a while.  But you should ask me about it.  It’d make my day.  Or, keep checking for new posts; I’m sure I’ll hit on this topic again.

Until then, I have to hit the hay.  It’s after 4 am, and I have footy practice tomorrow.  At least I won’t be hung over.