Location: DeutschBahn Train en route from Freiburg to Heidelberg, Germany (lunchtime on Saturday, 16 May)
I suppose I only have a little while to write before we reach the train station. Last night in Freiburg was fine, but I do not have much to tell as a story. We had a nice hostel and a nice dinner, with a good time of Bible study over breakfast. But what I do want to mention is this idea of being set apart.
I mentioned in Milan about our perception of discrimination against our Ethiopian friend and us. As an American "tourist" who does not blend in even in his homeland, I was prepared to be treated as a naive foreigner--but it still feels uncomfortable. Last night at dinner in a very German restaurant, I very much felt like we were treated differently: even the bilingual German-English menu had different prices (higher in English). Today at the train station, we sat down at a table outside to wait for a few minutes before our train. The people next to us just stared and spoke in low tones while looking at us; I kept trying to figure out if there was something wrong with us, our bags, or our actions.
I think it is good for us to feel discrimination (if in fact, it is really more than my imagination), because it helps us to understand the plight of minorities in the places where I am among the majority. It gives me sympathy and compassion for them, while at the same time teaching me humility. For instance, how must the Mexican immigrants feel in the States when we demand that they "speak our language!"? I know that I would have been out-of-luck several times in the last few days in Italy, Switzerland, and Germany had that been the case for me! Or how about the North Africans in France? Or the Hmong in Burma? There are other groups that feel as though they are perceived as "less than" in this same way, some by virtue of their biological characteristics, others by choices they make. In some form or another, we need to be sensitive to how best love persons who feel ostracized because they are handicapped, label themselves homosexual, of a certain polical party, practicing a certain religion, of a gender that is a minority in a certain setting or culture, etc. I am far suggesting that we must agree with them or even understand them. But we have to stop speaking in the manner in which I am currently typing: us and them! We are we. This trip reminds me of this. We, Church, must figure out how to love those who feel unloved--not how to make them feel good about vices or sins or poor choices, but to let them know that we see each other, including persons who feel unloved, as a person created to have value by a loving, personal God. We must know that we, each of us, and everyone else, is a person for whom Jesus died on the cross, and in whom He wants to live out His holy life.
I hope to post a picture...
(Okay, we just changed trains, so I have a few more minutes before we get to Heidelberg.)
In the Freiburg train station, I took a picture of a group of young ladies dressed in an extreme Gothic fashion. Some of them had colored hair and stripped stockings; all of them were wearing predominately white and black clothing. Two even had angel wings on their backs, one pair was white and the other pair black. I hope to post that picture if I can (I was temporarily unsuccessful with my Swiss-countryside videos from yesterday).
I mention these young ladies because most of the people in the train station were avoiding their corner while not-so-inconspicuously watching them. Why would these girls dress like this? Well, I did not interact with them this time, but my experience gives me some clues. I think they feel like they do not fit into the society around them. They feel lost and unloved, below standard and hopeless. Thus, instead of screaming in frustration, they "wear" their screams, demanding the attention they crave, even willing to substitute this negative attention for the positive they seek.
I am attracted to these girls--not romantically or sexually, but rather because they are crying out for the love they need; they just do not know how to ask for it. So they alienate themselves from their parents, their responsibilities, their society, and even themselves, loosing themselves in their own new world where nothing is as it appears. In one sense, they are very bold, staring down social mores and norms, resolutely demanding that they be valued for who they are, not for what they look like.
On the other hand, they are terribly frightened. What if this does not work? What if they never find the love they desire? They cannot wear pink hair and angel wings forever! What if everything is really as it appears?
Church, please pray for these ladies in my picture. Please pray for them in our midst, in the Church! Please pray for yourselves and for us--these ladies represent those parts in all of us that feel misunderstood, frightened, dispairing, screaming for the Truth and Love we know must exist but we do not always perceive! Church, let us be the ones to love "them and us"; to let Jesus love through us. For we do know: there is Truth, there is Love, and there is Hope!
This blog is your opportunity to travel with me wherever I am in the world, during both the mundane and exciting moments of life that I humbly recognize as holy. As I bare my life to you, may your reading take you beyond my words to the Word, beyond my life to the Life, beyond the chaos to the Truth, and beyond teachings to the Teacher--the Rabboni. I promise it will be an adventure, and by the end, may you, too, truly know the Way!
A Rose From Home
My Story (As prepared for my church congregation this spring--2009)
I have a story to tell you. I am the main character, but the story is not about me. I have traveled several parts of the world, but my adventure has been closer to home. I am twenty-six years old. My story begins like many of yours…
I grew up going to church. I had been born into a family who labeled themselves “Christian,” in a country that labels itself “Christian.” Every Sunday found me attending a worship service and Sunday school in a mainline denomination church. I served as an acolyte, attended Vacation Bible School, helped my dad count and record the offering money, sang in the youth choir, was a leader in the youth group, and occasionally served as liturgist. Baptized as an infant, I was confirmed at the age of twelve, thus becoming an “official” member of the church. Then, hurt by the church, my family left to find another.
Have you ever been hurt by the Church?
After months of searching, we settled into a very large independent church. Things were different there, and I was quickly welcomed and at home among new friends that truly had a passion for Jesus. The Word of God was taught boldly from the pulpit, and I was introduced to a missions-aware lifestyle. So it was with regret that I said goodbye only a couple of years later to move with my family to another church. I purposely remained aloof, not wanting to make new friendships before I left for college a year later. Besides, I was loosing my faith—or so I thought—and I didn’t want anyone to know. I was asking scary questions like “Is there really a God?” and, if so, “Is He the Christian God?” and “Would I be Christian if I had been born in another part of the world?”
Have you ever asked yourself unsettling questions about what you believe?
So I headed into college under a cloud of confusion that only worsened for the next two years. Though I didn’t know what I believed anymore, I continued to go to church every Sunday, and to help lead worship in chapel. Most importantly, even during this questioning, I continued my morning habit of daily study of the Bible. I had begun at age twelve, reading at first a chapter per day, then ten minutes each morning, then an half-hour, and so on. So, only by the grace of the very God I doubted, I remained anchored in His Word and in His community, though I felt like a fake most of the time. Since then I have learned that “fake” is the worst insult the world can give us; that is why the label of “hypocrite” is so offensive.
Have you ever felt like a fake?
Six weeks with missionaries in South Africa followed by a year in France began to teach me what life with God is all about. I began rebuilding my faith, this time it belonged to me, in contrast to me borrowing the faith of my parents, church, or anyone else. In my parent’s basement in 2003, on either Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve, I invited Jesus to live in me; perhaps I had done so before, but I didn’t recall—but since 2003, I have never forgotten that moment. Unfortunately, nothing changed. I continued to do my best to act like a Christian, as I had done for so long.
Have you ever found yourself “doing your best” to be a good person, or to act like a Christian?
Though I did not realize it at the time, I was quenching the Spirit, even though I had welcomed Him into my life. During the next few years, the LORD continued to nurture me, and slowly things began to change. Several tough months in Idaho birthed my prayer-life. I spent three years being humbled in a job that was my informal seminary training. In 2007, a short stint in Mexico helped me to see things as they were, and not long afterward, I was baptized by immersion. No baptism of any kind can save a lost soul—only Jesus can do that. However, this baptism was an important covenant between me and God, symbolizing not only my death and resurrection with Jesus and my public profession of faith, but it also my life change, the beginning of my bearing fruit. “For each tree is known by its own fruit…”according to Luke 6:44. During the past year and a half, the LORD has provided me with an informal pastoral internship in my church, teaching me every aspect of discipleship. Simultaneously, I have been studying unceasing prayer and worship. I am now very different than I was five years ago.
In the Book of Acts (which tells the story of the earliest years of the Church) every time a person decided to follow Christ, two things took place—though not always in the same order. Each person experienced a life change, which I call the “baptism of repentance,” as well as the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, which I call the “baptism of the Spirit.” Looking back, I realize that the Holy Spirit was living in me in 2003, but it wasn’t until I surrendered everything to God, as represented by my immersion, that I allowed the Spirit to have His way in me and transform my life. “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now life in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (Galatians 2:20)”
Have you invited Jesus to live in you? Have you allowed the Spirit to transform your life?
I tell you this story for two reasons. First, I tell this story in order to boast in the LORD! May God our Father get all praise and glory forever! Second, I tell this story because it is relevant to you. Likely you have heard that I am leaving the country: I have let my light shine before you; please let your light shine within the Church, too! This congregation is in revival, and as each of you allows the Spirit to revive you, the entire Church will be revived and utterly transformed, to the glory of the Most High God. And for His glory is the reason He created us; the reason He sent His only Son to reveal Himself to us; the reason He became Sin for us and died for us on the cross—while we were still sinners; and the reason that He conquered death and offered us eternal life with Him.
It will cost you a lot—in fact, it will cost you everything, your very life. But if you have never surrendered your life to Christ Jesus, if you have never invited Him to send His Spirit into you and to transform your life, then do it right now. Just let go of everything to which you are desperately clinging; stop trying to do it yourself! This is the very reason you are still breathing in this physical life—God has been delaying His judgment of this sinful world because He is waiting for you—2 Peter 3:9 says He wants none to perish!
If you have already invited the Spirit into your life, then live like it! Bear fruit! Anyone and everyone who meets you or knows you or sees you or hears you should know immediately and clearly that Jesus the Christ lives in you and loves them! That is how stark the contrast should be between your life and the world around you!
Have you immersed yourself in God’s Word and in prayer in the last twenty-four hours?
If you call yourself a follower of Christ, then there is no excuse for not communing with Him daily! Anchor yourself in the Word! God has revealed Himself to us through His Son, Jesus Christ, and the Bible is a complete and accurate record of that revelation. And prayer is humbly letting Him love us. Let Him love you! God doesn’t need us, but He wants us! God doesn’t need us to live for Him—He wants to live in and through us! Let us love and fellowship with one another, even when you disagree! Pray for each other—the names in the church directory are a great place to start! Church, we are not only the Body of Christ, but we are the Bride of Christ. We have allowed ourselves to get bedraggled and stained—now let us stand to the glory of God! Let’s let Him purify us, restore us, and love us!
My dear Brothers and Sisters, if you have ever once been blessed by God our Father at work in me, then I urge you, please, take seriously His desire to love and work in you, beyond anything you can ask or imagine! I have told you the beginning of my story—may it end in glory to the Father, in the Name of Jesus, by way of His Spirit.
Now, what is your story?