"The Jesus Revolution" vs. Holy Week

I went to see “The Jesus Revolution” the other day. As I was leaving the theater afterwards, someone recognized me and said hello; I replied with the thought that had just come to mind: “I saw it already,” to which he replied, “Oh?” I said, “Yeah, about 50 years ago.”

The movie is, I think, a pretty accurate depiction of what the Jesus Movement, with its Jesus Freaks of the 1970s, was all about, though it was entirely too sympathetic for me. In the end, it’s all the same Decision Theology that has been around for a long time, and as such, it’s devoid of anything solid, a cheap imitation masquerading as the the Gospel. Very shallow and fleeting.

I think I can say this with some authority, because I remember it pretty well. I was in fact involved, tangentially, beginning in the days of my high school experience. We went to a youth camp one weekend where I was introduced to it. At first it was simply small groups of Bible studies, a little entertainment and fun, and then at the end, a suddenly very experience-driven ‘worship’ time, full of emotions, personal testimonies, Jesus music, and feelings. And then I went home and within a day or so it wore off. The next year I went back to that youth camp and thought, Hm, here we go again. And by the time we got to the climactic experience I was not as convinced as before. And afterwards I wondered. what is all this? What do I still lack? And someone then explained to me that I needed to be more committal in giving my whole life to Jesus. Ah, so that’s it. And I tried really really hard, at least for awhile.

Then I went off to college, and quickly became involved with an offshoot of the Jesus Movement, a local regular gathering of kids who were students at the University of Wisconsin. We would sit cross-legged in a circle and sing those ubiquitous Jesus songs, to the gentle strumming of guitars, my own one of them.

Yes, I’ve been there, done that.

And thanks be to God, I happened to learn that the real Jesus movement is, and has always been, the faithful, confessional church. Solid, comforting theology. The depth of the Gospels. The Lutheran Confessions. And of course, beautiful liturgical worship, anchored not in personal experiences or emotional highs, but in the word of God and its infallible proofs of the life, the passion, and the resurrection of Jesus; and the real Sacraments that he gave us to attach us to the redemption he won.

If you want a real immersion in the real Jesus, you won’t find it in the Jesus Movement. The “experience” of “God’s love” as one of those songs used to croon, is found in suffering and a cross. My “encounters” with God do not happen at Jesus rallies where guitars and drums whip up a lively beat (having been part of that, I can say it’s pretty much all entertainment and little if anything more), but at the altar where I actually receive his Body and Blood. Jesus does not merely live “in my heart” as in another of those songs. He appeared before his dejected disciples on Easter Sunday, after having been crucified. And ever since then the Church has rejoiced in his bodily resurrection every single Sunday. And once a year we recount with greater detail his holy passion, that preceded and guaranteed his resurrection, during Holy Week. We commit the events to memory, if only by the sheer annual repetition of them. We teach them to our children.

And when we grow old, and our emotional highs inevitably fade, and our experiences tend more toward reminding us of our own mortality, we are glad that we didn’t build our house on the sand of the Jesus Revolution, but on the Rock of Jesus’ holy Word and blessed Sacraments. For these, as nothing else can, provide the comfort we need when we must ourselves endure death and the grave. It’s ok, we know, because Easter and the resurrection of the dead always follows.