Have you ever been in a situation where you're with someone you love more than your own life but you just can't find the way to say it? Or worse, as you circle around that perfect expression this person denies you? "Oh no you don't," or "Don't say that," or "I don't believe you," or "Someone like you could never love someone like me." Ouch.
Tom Shadyac is my hero. He has boiled down the purpose of his existence to this: “I live to serve the divine idea.”
I am not uncomfortable calling the “Divine Idea” God, although it tracks with my theology to leave my Lord, Creator, and Sustainer nameless – He actually wanted it this way, I think. So I would say, “I exist to serve God.”
Tom was the first person who was able to communicate to me exactly what it meant to pursue happiness. In the same way he believes we vote with every dollar we spend, he also believes who choose freedom or captivity with every choice we make, every bit of energy we emit into our surroundings, and every word we speak over our own situations. It’s amazing and true, and empowering in the way only true humility can be.
I got to know Tom by accidentally enrolling in a screenwriting class he taught at Pepperdine. After my first minutes in the same room with this man, I was hooked. I have subsequently taken three other film classes from him. In addition to a thousand lessons about life and meaning, Tom has taught me that the one non-negotiable for a great movie is that it must be about “One Controlling Idea.” So of course, as we struggled through pages and pages of shaky dialogue and awkward descriptions of shots, the process naturally made us try to link every line of writing to this controlling idea.
And just as all the little choices make the big choice for us about whether we shall be free or slave (as Aristotle reminds us, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”), so the themes of our creative endeavors compose the controlling ideas for our lives.
It’s hard to imagine a scenario where servanthood embodies the fulfillment of freedom. True, fully realized freedom. But, ah, the bliss of bowing at the feet of the truly deserving.
The deserving is you, oh Christ. Only in service to you can we be certain that our actions are utterly right. Only in service to you do we proclaim with unhesitating boldness that we do something worthy, something eternal. Even as we err in our acts of service, which we inevitably do, the pursuit loses no appeal due to the grace we receive in the act.
When someone says, “I love you,” we instinctively respond, “I love you, too,” with the understanding that nobody wishes to confess a feeling of love without immediate affirmation of reciprocation. What’s worse that unrequited love? My mother believes there is something worse. Have you ever told someone you loved them and had them respond, “No, you don’t.” The refusal to receive a declaration of love is far graver than the failure to reciprocate. Sometimes, Mom responds to an “I love you” with a simple, “I know you do.” Oh to feel your love received. Understood. Believed. No more need to keep searching for the right words, to keep striving to construct the perfect description for the love that makes your heart burst and ache. No more wishing you could only make your beloved one really understand how you feel. To utter only, "I love you" to one who responds, "I know you do." And you know they do.
As we serve Christ, He of the incessant inaudible love song, we proclaim love for one who will receive it. In our longing to grow deeper in our communion with our Savior, we offer praise that has a place to land. Our relationship with Him is not just about mutual giving of love but mutual receiving of love.
I find the earthy beings and things I daily strive to serve unsatisfactory receptacles. My heart breaks for people who serve things that will never receive their love. This is when servanthood becomes slavery. I see many relationships where so many givers are bound in shackles to the moods of takers. Or, beyond human-to-human relationships, I see other willing servants who are bound to the demands of an unloving culture, to coolness, to “success,” to the ridiculous requirements they place on themselves. It is tyranny.
We long to be used. We long to contribute. We long to be good enough. We long to hear the voice of Truth say thrillingly, “Yes, YOU, come. YOU are exactly what I have been looking for.” This is why we all yearn for our spouses, for we are somehow convinced this is the only instance where you, specifically you, are the only one who can fulfill the need of another. While good marriages come close, we need not wait for that. This is the call of Christ. He calls to you specifically. He longs for you to serve Him. He longs for you to tell Him you love Him. He waits for you to turn your ears to that love song He’s incessantly singing to you and respond, “I know.” Serve one who will receive your service. Love one who will receive your love. Bind yourself to one who will always leave you free to walk away. Choose freedom by serving the one who is worthy.
"And he who loses his life for my sake shall find it." Matthew 10:39
I started a new job today. My boss isn't Jesus, but he loves Jesus, and he lives to serve. And thus, the hours of greuling service to this man will be blissful, for together we co-labor to serve the one who loves us.
