On 'Blue Like Jazz'

It seems that at certain points in life, a window opens. It might be an opportunity, a shift in perspective, a period of deconstruction & chaos, but in any case, it's an opening. One such opening happened in my transition to High school where I walked into a new space with new people. But, the environment was not my open window. My open window came with a sudden-yet-subtle change of heart. One day, I realized that God's grace & love applied to me too. The world I grew up in was religious, God was another feature in my personal story. That is, until I realized that the Gospel for me too. My open window. I hope it never gets shut.

Shortly after that window opened, my friend Will threw an object in the gap. Literally. He was always reading this book called Blue Like Jazz by a guy named Donald Miller. When I asked Will what the book was about, he threw it at me as an answer. That was more his vibe, anyways. The cover read, "Nonreligious thoughts on Christian spirituality," just nuanced enough to not mean anything to me. Will, seeing my confusion said, "Just read it. There's a chapter called 'Penguin Sex.' It's about faith." Will sold it well. As I read Donald Miller, I found names for experiences & intuitions I'd always felt. Intuitions like faith being bigger than Republican or Democrat. The intuition that the problem with the world isn't just 'out there', but also in my heart. The intuition that mystery was better worship than certainty. Blue Like Jazz flew into my open window, and in the process, it named the intuitions I was finally ready to name. I'm still learning the names, so I keep a copy of Blue Like Jazz with me everywhere I go.

Two years later, another window opened. Many of my closest friends & a dear mentor went through what some call a "crisis of faith." If you're wondering what kind of crisis this window let in, listen to this song by David Bazan. For me, this time was a window of discomfort. The friends I embraced Jesus with were asking question that I should have been asking, questions which made our initial embrace feel tentative. Where I wanted certainty, Blue Like Jazz pointed to a Story that embraces faith. We wanted a good thing: the security of a story that makes sense. Blue Like Jazz painted a humble approach to these experiences. Rather than reject faith because of a hard question, perhaps the proper response is humble acceptance in hope of an answer or, at least, a better way to ask the question. Blue Like Jazz kept me humble in a window of discomfort & doubt.

Two years after that, like clockwork, another window opened. Some screenwriters came along and made Blue Like Jazz a movie. Because the book is a series of disjointed stories, the narrative in the movie isn't a 1:1 ratio to the life of Donald Miller in the book. By the time the movie came out, I was a freshman at a Christian college, where I soon found myself in a window of alienation. My best friends were skeptics & church-burned. But the college I went to require me to attend chapel four days a week. I was afraid to play David Bazan in my room. Was I going to be alone in my willingness to ask questions which might seem opposed to faith? I decided to reach out to the one person I knew at my college, a friend named Stewart. I invited him to watch Blue Like Jazz with me. I don't remember enjoying the movie much. I was afraid he'd think I was weird. Instead, Stewart shared how much the movie resonated with him. But, he liked the book better. It turned out I wasn't going to be alienated after all. As a matter of fact, Blue Like Jazz kept me grounded rather than alienated. I needed to ask hard questions with people, especially in a school of faith.

I thought I was keeping a copy of Blue Like Jazz with me all these years. But it turns out the book ended up keeping me. Through every open window, through every re-read, I find myself more indebted to Will for throwing Blue Like Jazz at me. It was the book that sparked a friendship with a girl named Karina & a guy named Stewart. A few years after that spark with Karina, I hollowed out a copy of Blue Like Jazz to make room for a ring for her. Stewart was one of my best men at our wedding. (I wrote about the other one here.) Blue Like Jazz keeps me humble, grounded, connected, & hopeful. I hope it flies through your window one day.