Monday, June 6, 2016

With a yes, the world changes

      The impact of his friend’s illness could never be calculated. He slips in the back of the sanctuary, looking for a spot as far away from the empty front rows as he can. After a few minutes of deliberation, he takes his seat on the back row. No one notices. No one takes the time to talk to him since the worship service is but moments away. The band starts the service with a very brief shot to the heart. He listened intently to the service, smiled at the lighter moments, even wiped a tear a bit when the associate pastor prayed.
      It’s Casting Crowns night, apparently.
      Format seems to be four or so songs at the beginning stitched together like a blanket; then prayer; then offering; then another song; scripture reading; sermon; final song of two.

      Seems to have all the parts functioning, he thinks.
      Oh, he prays as a song by Casting Crowns is played quietly: Lord I lift my friend to You. I’ve done all that I know to do. I lift my friend to you.
      For the umpteenth time since the diagnosis of his friend, he comes to this church out on country road. He had visited 20 or so churches, and this one stuck for some reason.
      He was anonymous, a pasty face noticed by no one in the church. He gets there a minute or so into the service, negating much conversation. He is dried up and pressured down. His very bones ache from constant heavy lifting, his long mourning prayer comes from his pain.
      Oh, there are times when he is greeted by the trained armies of the Lord. Sometimes they jump him like robbery suspects, giving him a slick brochure of the church, or a box of cookies or whatever the next great gift is.
      But he is no closer to becoming a disciple of Christ for the transformation of the world than I am becoming thin with thick flowing hair.
      Why?
      Well, there’s one thing no one has done. No one.
      But what if? As the service draws near the end, a woman sitting closest to him smiles and says, “let’s talk afterwards” as what the band leader says is final hymn is being sung.
      He listens, looking at his feet as the song is played and sung.
      “She is running
100 Miles an hour
In the wrong direction
      She is trying
But the canyons ever widening
In the depths of her cold heart
      So she sets out on another miss-adventure just to find
she's another 2 years older and she's 3 more steps behind
      Does anybody hear her?
      Can anybody see?
      or does anybody even know she's going down today?
      Under the shadow of our steeple
with all the lost and lonely people
      Searching for the hope that tucked away in you and me
      Does anybody hear her?
      Can anybody see?
      She is yearning
      For shelter and affection
      That she never found at home
      She is searching
      For a hero to ride in,
to ride in and save the day
      And then walks in her prince charming
and he knows just what to say
      A momentary lapse of reason
and she gives herself away
      If judgment looms under every steeple
      If lofty glances from lofty people
      Who can't see past her scarlet letter
      And we never even met her
      She takes his arm at the elbow as the singer says the Holy Spirit is directing him into an additional closing song. He sees the service through the eyes of a Casting Crowns song, hears through the ears of this young woman who has yet to give him a name.
      The band sings another Mark Hall song: What if the church finally stepped up to the plate?
      What if his people prayed and those who bear his name would humbly seek his face and turn away from their own way?
      And what would happen if we prayed for those raised up to lead the way, then maybe kids in school could pray and unborn children see light of day?
      What if the life that we pursue came from a a hunger for the truth. What if the family turned to Jesus, stopped asking Oprah what to do?
      The service ends. She smiles, introduces herself, then does what no one had ever done at any of the churches he had visited.
      She says, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
      And the gates of hell are bludgeoned.
      See, the reason most have not become disciples of Jesus Christ is because no one asked them to.
      “Yes,” he says, with pounds of guilt and a load of suffering falling away with the sound of one word.
      “Yes. I most certainly would.”
      Smile meets smile.
      World without end, Amen.

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