Your Hardest Hardest — Cartography

“I don’t like The Office.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well I started the first episode and I just couldn’t get through it. It’s just really terrible.”

*pinches bridge of nose*

Okay, look. I get it. I really do. The Office is a slow-burner in a lot of ways. The comedy is awkward and uncomfortable, the writing is a bizarre brand of understated hyperbole, and the characters take seasons to truly develop. Still, I adamantly believe all the way down to my toes that it is some of the best storytelling that we have managed to achieve as a species, and I furthermore believe that all of the aforementioned characteristics are among the reasons why.

Once you’ve seen the show through to the end, you see how considered every moment is. You see all of the details coming together in the background. You begin to appreciate the patience and thought that went into every point, turn, and arc.

The Office is a masterpiece.

Fight me.

That being said, there are plenty of technically brilliant narratives that haven’t had the same cultural success and longevity as The Office has. I could write an entire essay on why I believe that is, but several people have already done that. Feel free to read up, but I’ll go ahead and tell you that there aren’t any big surprises. Clearly, the primary reason people love the show is that it’s comforting. And it’s not just the nostalgia, either. The Office is comforting because it’s honest. It reflects everyday, ordinary life in a way that is still extremely recognizable and accessible. Even through the lens of entertainment, we are able to see ourselves. We see our own hope, joy, and growth. We also see our own disappointment, discouragement, and frustration. One of the most compelling storylines is when Jim and Pam’s marriage struggles in the last season. It happens because of small things like miscommunication, withdrawal, and lack of consideration: Real things. Things that, frankly, can be hard to recognize when it’s happening to us until it’s too late. And, really, that is the question being posed by the narrative. Is it too late?

The answer is, of course, no. Jim and Pam work it out. It’s very evident that it is a difficult process, and that healing and reconciliation take work, but Jim and Pam are left with a happy ending. They have to be, because The Office is a kind-hearted, generous story. It reflects our fallenness, but it also hints at the glorified. Because, more so than anything else, The Office is a show about love.

This essay is also about love.

I want to talk about what I feel is a severely underrated moment in the show. The fact that I couldn’t find a single clip or GIF of it is a pretty solid indicator that I’m right. In the 8th season, the paper company Dunder Mifflin has been absorbed by a larger office supply company called Sabre, and Sabre has decided to explore selling their products out of storefronts. Dwight Schrute, a salesman, has been selected to manage a team of employees of the Dunder Mifflin Scranton branch (including Jim Halpert, another salesman) who all travel to Sabre’s headquarters in Tallahassee to develop this storefront project.

So if you haven’t seen the show, Dwight is in a constant state of striving for recognition and promotion. It’s a bit of a running gag. As the co-developer of this project, he is positioned to be made head of the new branch. Dwight is very, very excited. Which brings us more or less up to speed.

Episode 18, season 8. Dwight is preparing to pitch the project to the Sabre board, and he thinks his promotion is set in stone. Jim, however, is privately told by the CEO that Dwight will not only not receive the promotion, he will actually be fired. Jim and Dwight aren’t exactly friends, but Jim knows this isn’t fair and tries to tell Dwight, who is only interested in throwing his success in Jim’s face. So Jim, feeling he has already gone above and beyond by trying at all, decides to leave Dwight to his fate. You haven’t seen him, Jim tells Pam over the phone. I tried, he won’t listen. I hear you, says Pam.

But did you actually try your hardest?

Oof. What a question. What a sharp, convicting question. Because we have all been in Jim’s shoes, and we’ve all had to make that choice. Is it worth it? Are they worth it? Am I really responsible? Scripture says, yes.

“Rescue those being led away to death;

hold back those staggering toward slaughter.”

Proverbs 24:11

Jim knows he only tried his pretty hardest, so he goes back again. And he is dismissed and laughed at, again. And Dwight is literally just outside the door of a conference room filled with people planning to dispose of him, poised to step over the threshold of destruction, when Jim goes back one more time and cross-body tackles him out of the way.

We, the Church, have got to do that. My God, we have got to do that. When we see people headed for disaster, we can’t just sit back and watch them walk off the cliff. Love is hands on. Love holds back. Love is active, intentional, and entirely committed.

And there are no excuses.

“If you say, ‘But we knew nothing about this,’

does not He who weighs the heart perceive it?

Does not He who guards your life know it?

Will He not repay everyone according to what they have done?”

Proverbs 24:12

Here’s the thing. You know, deep down, if you’ve given your very best effort. I know I do. And, more importantly, God knows. The Message translation says that He is “not impressed with weak excuses.” So while it is not your responsibility to save everyone, or even anyone, it is your responsibility to fight for them. And if you know in your heart that they are lost, and you do nothing, that’s on you. We know what’s waiting for lost people. We know the futility of life without Christ. We know the consequence of entering eternity without Him, and yet we consider it more worth our time to criticize, legislate, and isolate than to reach out and pull them to safety.

How dare we.

This self-centered apathy is heartbreaking enough when directed outwards, but it’s just as if not more tragic when aimed inwards. What could possibly be more crushing than being let down by the Body of Christ? And yet we see it every day. The phrase “church-hurt” rolls off our tongues with stinging familiarity as we recount tale after tale of the thoughtless, selfish, and even cruel treatment we and others have experienced at the hands of confessing Christians. This is so deeply wrong.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

John 13:34-35

When Jesus said this to the twelve, (well, eleven; Judas had gone), it was just after washing their feet and just before going to the cross. Two distinct, profound illustrations of the Lord’s perfect love for His people. And while He did not say those words to Judas, given that Judas had already left to betray Him, He did wash his feet. Jesus knew that evil had settled into Judas’ heart, but He served him anyways. He loved him anyways. And that is how we have been commanded to love each other.

This is not an easy thing. Post-Salvation does not mean perfect. To live in community is to live the reality of others’ failings and brokenness constantly scraping against our own. It’s hard. It hurts. But it’s right. The only way we can learn to truly love the lost is if we learn to love our brothers and sisters first, whether they want us to or not. Because that is how we have been loved.

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Romans 5:8

Let’s go back to The Office for a second. Dwight did not want to be saved, nor did he truly deserve to be saved. He not only had no interest in listening to Jim’s attempts to warn him, he didn’t even want to accept what he thought was victory gracefully. Because, to Dwight, this was his long-awaited triumph over his enemy. At long last he had beaten Jim, and he was delighting in every single moment of it. He deeply and truly relished Jim’s defeat right up until the instant he managed to get through the door and witness another employee being thrown under the bus in his place. But despite knowing that Dwight didn’t deserve to be helped, and despite not even liking the guy, Jim fought to hold him back.

While we were still calling God our enemy.

While we were still cursing His name. While we were still spitting in His face. While we were still in an all-out sprint on the path to destruction, Jesus went to the cross and tackled us out of the way. God, caring more about our good than we ever could, made the loving choice to save us. God, knowing that we could not change our own way, chose instead to wrestle us to the ground so that we would not be destroyed. And unlike Jim, God’s intervention in our destruction is always a wholehearted endeavor.

This is love.

It is uncomfortable, inconvenient, deeply sacrificial, and often thankless. It means seeking each other’s good before our own. It means saying “No” to dysfunction and unhealthy dependency. It means saying “Yes” to ugly burdens and paralyzing need. It means reaching out instead of pushing back. It means holding up instead of tearing down. It means giving out of our poverty. It means forgiving seventy multiplied by seven times over. It means continually choosing grace. It means the daily laying down of our lives. This is not just a trite wedding sermon, this is a battle cry. Love is hard. And we are called to love hard.

The Office has staying power because that hard love, that real love, resonates with our souls. We know we need it. We desperately want to give it. It truly is the best thing we have, and some might say the only thing. We know from 1 Corinthians 13 that love is the only thing that will last in its full integrity when this world dissolves like snow and the unseen hope comes shining through the fog. And thus, we have this ultimate and final question waiting for us at the end.

At the end of the day.

At the end of your life.

At the end of it all.

Did you love your hardest hardest?

-- Kyle