Into the Fire

My friend Tara sent me this video. I think it bothered her and she wanted to be sure I was bothered too. It worked.

I don't know this guy. I don't know his program or what happened before the exchange in the video. He seems to be sincere. He seems to be trying to honestly present the Gospel to folks who need to hear it.

And it makes me sad.

In his quest follow Christ's "command to preach" he misses the point of Christ's message. He traps the young woman with a flawed analogy Christians use all the time: "If someone was in a burning building, wouldn't you tell them to get out?"

Here's the problem... you're assuming the person in the building can walk.

Burning buildings are loud, confusing, smoke filled places. People inside get hurt as they stumble around in the chaos. It's why firemen don't stand outside and shout. They go in.

It's easy to shout outside.You risk nothing. You sacrifice nothing. It costs you nothing.

When you go into the fire, when you enter someone's story, it's scary. You don't know what you'll find when you get in there. You don't know how the flames have scorched them or what has trapped them or if they'll need to be carried for a while. All you know is you love them enough to risk getting burned.

There is no doubt Christ told people the truth. But first he walked with them. Touched them. Healed them. Fed them. He sat with them in the fire. Then he led them out of the house and to the cross. 

Poppin Tags

Nancy loves Goodwill. Well, it doesn't have to be Goodwill. It could be Salvation Army, Arc a yard sale, whatever.

She loves them so much I wrote a song about it long before Macklemore and Ryan Lewis sang Thrift Shop (um... the PG version being sung by Pentatonix here). Heck, she invented “poppin’ tags.”

When we were traveling, she found out Goodwill in Ohio was having a 50% off sale. She went online, found every Goodwill on our rout and we stopped at them … all of them.

Thrifting is Nancy's spiritual gift.

She has taken countless folks all over Colorado Springs finding them great stuff for next to nothing. She doesn't need to buy, she’s just happy someone is getting a deal. 

So many of us don’t believe we have anything to offer. We minimize our gifting or don’t believe we have any gifts at all. We don’t understand that if we think creatively, there are things we love to do that would bless other people.

We've been wired different ways and our unique abilities and interests can have an impact on the people around us. Nancy does it through thrifting and I think it makes God happy. 

Rhythms

You can always spot frequent flyers. We’re the ones who look bored in airports. We chat casually about Hong Kong, Beijing and Delhi like a farmer chats about yield, without a bit of pretentiousness, usually.

We have a rhythm as we travel. We need the right bag and seat assignment, like a toddler needs his bunny and Sheldon needs his spot. We pack a certain way, check in at a certain time and have rituals for time zone adjustment.

What’s really interesting is when two frequent flyers travel together for the first time. With one playing the Samba and the other Rockabilly, it can take some time for their rhythms to get in sync. Or worse, a frequent flyer with a novice, who can’t even find the downbeat.

The church is a place filled with people who have their own rhythm. Culture, family, history, gifting and personality all play a part in how we beat our drum. Our needs, perceptions, what's important to us, how we react to change and conflict are all different and lead to all kinds of problems.

Only when we sync our rhythm with God's can we achieve the unity Christ talks about in John. 

The problem is, God's rhythm feels unnatural too.  Our history tells us not to trust. Love always comes with strings.  Culturally, forgiveness, grace and self-sacrifice are counter intuitive. They don't lead to happiness and fulfillment. I have to look out for myself.

Somehow, in the great diversity of humanity, we can find unity. It's there for us. Somehow, in the cacophony of billions of people playing their own tune, a melody can be heard. It's sweet and it's haunting, it's lovely and it's calling to us. We can sense it. Because somewhere deep in side, we know in his rhythms there is rest.