'Lost' in Disappointment

Editor's note: Spoilers galore ahead.

The final episode of Lost did not seem to disappoint the faithful at the Orpheum Theater in Los Angeles, where I joined 2,000 fans, journalists, and bloggers for the conclusion to one of the most discussed shows in television history. The adjectives I heard after the 2½-hour finale were glowing—"perfect," "beautiful," "amazing."

But not from me. I was less than fully pleased with the way this beautiful narrative arrived at its final destination, even if that destination was heaven itself. I wasn't expecting every question to be answered, or the ethic of this wide-reaching narrative to be fully summed up; anyone expecting such clean closure does not fully appreciate this show. But I did expect that we would be offered a coherent story that does not leave gaping holes that could sink a life raft, much less a submarine.

Jack Shephard

I still don't know how or when anyone other than Jack actually died, or how Jack has a son in purgatory that did not previously exist, or the meaning of the light. I expected that we would all have much to discuss, but it will take weeks to figure out whom we think actually died, and when it was that they met their maker.

The debate about the spiritual ethic of the show will continue; that is as it should be. What no one wanted to be arguing was whether or not Season 6 had any meaning whatsoever? Have our friends been in a form of purgatory playing out two destinies that lead to the afterlife? Michael's statement to Hurley that he was stuck on the island waiting to pass through to his next existence seems to indicate that purgatory is everywhere, even on this island.

It seems that our favorite story took a trite turn for the worse at the last minute. Both stories—on the island and in the "flash sideways"—were powerful, compelling, well-written and brilliantly acted. But for the finale to be a complete success, these two stories had to come together as one coherent narrative, and it failed to do that. It is not a cop-out on the level of a child gazing into a snow globe, but it is a cop-out nonetheless.

Those complaints aside, Lost is still primarily a story about compelling characters, and on that level the finale delivered everything we could hope for. The last 30 minutes were touching, and the focus was on a hope that is greater than death itself—and the need to forgive as we have been forgiven. Lost drove home for us one last time the great truth that we can either "Live together, or die alone." For this I am deeply grateful.

Writers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse have entered our lives with their remarkably beautiful cast of characters. They have been more than television writers; we embraced them like college professors, priests, mystics, philosophers, and tandem sages. In the last six years we have flourished under their tutelage.

Thanks to these men—and a talented cast and crew—here are four important life lessons I've learned along the way:

1) We are all lost

Every one of us bears the marks that Jacob used to describe the candidates. We are all flawed, and we struggle to connect with others in a deep and meaningful way. The feeling that we are alone in this world haunts us, and we believe deep within that if people knew us for whom we truly are, they would reject us. The opposite is actually true: We learn to embrace one another not in spite of our broken state, but because of it.

Think of how many TV shows—or even movies—have come and gone, shows where you're never given a chance to gaze into the characters' souls and truly see them as human beings. No tears are shed at those finales, because we didn't connect with them on an emotional level. The same is true in life. You can live your entire life as a one-dimensional character, holding everyone at arm's length. But, bare your soul to me about your evil father who stole your kidney and abandoned you a second time as you recover in the hospital, and you have a friend for life.

2) Fictional friends matter

Not as much as real friends, of course. But fictional friends are vital to a healthy state of mind. As children, fantasy is as natural as breathing, but as we get older it becomes more challenging to escape reality in a world of endless possibilities and impassioned adventure. The imagination is a muscle that must be flexed by fantasy and story; our difficult lives become more pleasurable when we escape into new stories and see the world through different eyes.

Sayid Jarrah

In a recent interview about Lost, I told a reporter that the beauty of this television series is that it gave me some new friends. I never imagined that I would have a close friend who fought in the Iraqi Republican Guard and used torture routinely as a tool to get what he wants. That guy sounds like the embodiment of evil, but my friend Sayid Jarrah is loyal to a fault, he tells the truth, and he would quite literally give his life to save his friends. So when I say that I love this guy, I am not certifiably insane. That's a beautiful thing in a world that often demonizes Arab men; Lost destroyed an ugly stereotype, and that may help us make friends with our Arab brothers and sisters in the real world as well.

If you sobbed (as I did) as a child when your read Old Yeller, or if you tear up routinely at the movie theater over characters that you have only spent a few hours with, imagine how emotionally invested you would be if you spent hundreds of hours with them over the course of six years. That's what Lost did to us.

3) Like Jack, I have a calling

Jack was transformed this season by a sense of purpose. When life became larger than his own pursuit of power, an attractive confidence and selflessness emerged. We have all experienced—though it may have been fleeting—this kind of calling that changes our life focus. Jack has spent his life on the island fighting for influence and power. So his posture toward Sawyer in the last few episodes should tell us all we need to know. When Sawyer blew up the submarine despite Jack's protest that the bomb would not detonate if left alone, my stomach was churning. You could already imagine Jack blaming Sawyer (like how Sawyer blamed Jack for Juliet's demise) for the deaths of Sayid, Jin, and Sun. But when Sawyer began to bemoan his fateful decision, Jack offered grace without blame. His sense of calling changed him.

4) The Bible's heaven beats Lost's

It is true that we will be reunited with loved ones in heaven, but I am grateful that the Bible does not suggest any detours (i.e. purgatory) along the way where we must atone for our sins before we enter paradise.

Walking off into the light

Despite its strong spiritual themes—many of them quite biblical—Lost ultimately embraces many religions. Without Jesus as Messiah, we are left with a do-it-yourself path to salvation, and no matter how many religions statues, symbols, and icons you pile upon one another—as Lost did at the church in the finale's closing moments—it lacks true hope and any inkling of radical grace. The joy of heaven will not be the presence of friends and family, it will be the beauty of living in the presence of Jesus the Liberating King.

   * * *

There will never be another television series like Lost. The spiritual conversations initiated by this unique drama make it larger than its audience of rabid fans.

Last week, during a New York Times talk about the show, a young Asian woman approached the microphone to thank the writers and the cast. She said that the spirituality of the show led her to embrace faith and return to the church. I expected Damon Carlton to shy away from her evangelistic fervor with a trite postmodern response about all of us finding our path and downplaying the spiritual content as merely a TV show. Instead, he seemed to relish the spiritual significance of the series with a knowledge that there is such a thing as being found.

If we all follow the example of Jesus and leave behind the 99 sheep (in Sunday school class) and pursue the one that is lost (in bars, gyms, streets), we might discover the same kind of transformation experienced by Jack Shephard. This is our calling.

"Live Together, Die Alone" is not a slogan to rally the redeemed. It is a call to the broken in need of redemption.

Chris Seay, author of The Gospel According to Lost and pastor of Houston's Ecclesia Church, has been blogging weekly for CT throughout the final season of ABC-TV's 'Lost.' Be sure to check out other season-ending commentaries about 'Lost' on our sister blog, Her.meneutics, and our sister publication, 'Books & Culture.'

Copyright © 2010 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.