Sweet Jesus Doesn't Care - Or Does He?

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I've done no wrong
Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer
Look down, look down
Sweet Jesus doesn't care
- Look Down, Les Misérables -

Since first hearing this song from the 2012 movie Les Misérables, this quatrain stood out to me. In context, all the forçats are putting their hopelessness to song as they work to bring a massive ship into a shipyard. But out of context, the quatrain reminded me of myself and some of the thoughts I have had at one time or another regarding faith.

I have Aspergers. I am a Christian, but it confuses me that God didn't help me know what faith feels like. That's my question. When everyone in a church or at a concert is swaying to and fro, eyes closed, maybe a hand outstretched, I'm the one wondering what they're feeling. What are they feeling when a song or a sermon moves them to hold out their arms and pray? All I hear are lyrics, instruments, passionate voices. I can know all the words to every song or listen intently to every word of a sermon, but not feel the presence of God that everyone else seems to feel. I'm a Christian, but I have never - even when I became a Christian - felt Jesus "living in me," and that's what part of being an Aspie is like. I know that trying to mimic the people around me is useless - it's not what they're doing that gives them that connection. It's how they feel.

So does Jesus really care? He made me exactly what I am; He created this lack of connection. No matter how hard I try, I'll always feel a bit like Spock - unfeeling and confused by emotion, especially in the church. Faith is trusting in what you can't see. Faith is, in a word, blind. Is faith illogical? You can't see Jesus walking beside you, and he isn't really inside your actual heart. When I pray, I'm not talking to the ceiling or the sky. I'm talking into an invisible phone that only goes one way, and I'm hoping the connection is just as strong as any other believer's. And what about a soul? You can't point to a part of your body and say, "There. That's the soul." But you believe it's there. So, though my logic-driven mind doesn't understand the concept of "walking by faith," I'm doing my best to simply try.

One day last year, I went to a concert. I expected there to be people who would raise their hands and feel moved, and there were. I felt uncomfortable and left out of this emotional revival. But then one of the singers on the stage started speaking; he said things in a way that I could understand. He said we're not looking to ourselves or anyone else for our hope, but we're looking to Jesus. "Maybe you feel like you're so far away from God, or that God is so far away from you," he said, "but the amazing thing is that God is close, and that Jesus is in this place." Few people have been able to say things that make me feel like I'm no less a Christian because of the struggles I have. His words got through. No, I still don't understand why people raise their hands and close their eyes when they feel that connection, but I felt something that night. I felt a spark flicker inside me. I felt a connection.

Up until then, I knew God exists. I knew I believed. But I had never felt a connection. And even though that connection only lasted for a few moments, the spark still remains.

Sweet Jesus really does care.

(For more on Aspergers and faith, please check out this article: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2013/10/19/mr-spock-goes-to-church-how-one-christian-copes-with-aspergers-syndrome/)

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