Understanding Through Loss
The Dodge Viper’s 14-year production run punched a V10-sized hole into the minds of car folks around the world. The concept was stunning, its proportions unfathomable. Production didn’t seem conceivable; side-exit exhaust? That’s only legal in 49 states (sorry, Connecticut)! Beginning in 1992, you could actually buy this car and introduce its extraordinary presence into mundane settings like fast-food drive-through lanes and your home. Its gradual evolutionary changes didn’t clear things up. The GTS coupe finally gave buyers lavish luxuries like side windows and door handles, but also firmer suspension and more extreme performance. Its 335-series rear tires stretched the limits of reality in 1992, and by 2016, its 355s must be seen to be believed.
Perhaps no one understood it except for its most devoted fans. Sure, everyone was impressed with its 8.0-liter all-aluminum V10 making 400 horsepower in 1992 (which became an 8.4-liter making 645 horsepower by 2016) and its various track-focused special editions. But no one else really understood what the whole thing was all about. Car folks with means who bought it as their splashy flavor-of-the-week missed its single-purposed rawness and purity. Automotive journalists who locked in their view of it based on its debut missed its potential to be a track star that dominated European supercars over the next decade or more. Impressionable youth who admired Viper posters on their walls (next to Ferraris and Corvettes) missed its personality.
And now it’s gone. Is it still misunderstood?
A passage from Jesus’ last days with his disciples tells modern followers (and Viper fans) what they need to know about loss, mourning, and understanding: “Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. In that day you will no longer ask me anything. I tell you the truth, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. Though I have been speaking figuratively, a time is coming when I will no longer use this kind of language but will tell you plainly about my Father. In that day you will ask in my name.” (John 16:22-26)
Because he loved these disciples he was about to leave, he broke the news about the pain they would feel at his departure. Then, he promised them an understanding that could only come after his departure: when they, and all Christ-followers, could be moved by the Spirit to pray directly to God the Father in the name of Jesus who redeemed them.
The loss people face sometimes helps explain things people didn’t see before. Sometimes it takes losing a bad thing to recognize the good in it, and other times losing a good thing reveals something new about God’s provision.
Losing a bad thing:
A difficult job came to a close, and now you understand exactly what you do (and don’t) want in a job.
An unrelenting bully changed schools, and now you’re empathetic to the inner pain that you now recognize was driving their aggression.
Losing a good thing:
Your health was good before suddenly deteriorating, and now you recognize that God’s goodness isn’t limited to times when things are going well.
Pleasure in enjoying a seemingly harmless vice quickly became enslavement to unmanageable addiction, and for the first time you value people in your life who you’re really leaning on for help.
Sometimes, things like life experiences, a helpful book, or a good conversation helps people make sense of these things that didn’t make sense a month or a year earlier. Other times, decades pass and the questions remain. In either case, Christ-followers have a powerful resource: prayer. Jesus said that praying to God brings concrete results, along with intangible joy. During loss or the threat of loss, both of those things are definitely – unmistakably, certainly, unquestionably – what people need.
Nothing else was exactly like the Viper, except the 427 Cobra from two and a half decades earlier. It was the spiritual inspiration for the brutish Viper (which explains the reptilian nomenclature), and Cobra creator Carroll Shelby was there for the Viper’s press launch. It’s like Jesus, who spoke God’s word and did God’s work to people who didn’t quite understand him at the time. The Viper may be gone, but Jesus is present, and his words and presence are available to help people make sense of any kind of loss.
