Chronicles (Part VI): A Familiar Neighborhood

As I mentioned in the introduction to this site, my departure from England occured some time ago. I’m collecting and sharing these posts now because I have moved past the place of pure frustration and confusion to a place of increased perspective. Again, my journey is not yet complete. But perhaps I’ve seen a sufficient amount along the way that I can now more safely navigate the waters. That said, I don’t want to ignore the fact that I’ve crossed paths with my fair share of dangerous lands- most, if not all, of which were intentionally approached (you can decide for yourself the wisdom of these decisions).

So before I share with you the experience of the seasoned yachtsman, I feel compelled to share the (in)experience of the foolish runaway. Just like Chesterton felt in recounting his voyage, many of these “chronicles” are somewhat embarassing to me now- just as, I’m sure, my current ones will be at a later time. But the point of this endeavor is not to preserve my pride. It is to be honest…

I’ll be posting seven pieces from the early parts of my journey.

9/4/2008

God’s neighborhood is not safe. It is not in suburban America far away from the gangs and the hookers and the infectious diseases. God’s neighborhood is not quiet or laid back or boring. No, God lives far away from security and comfort. He inhabits places of pain, suffering, and hardship. In fact, His very nature draws him to it. We are not saying that God is not omnipresent. Of course God can be found in every place in the world and can be served whole-heartedly there. However, Christ did not spend the majority of his ministry at the table of tax collectors, in the houses of whores, and at public executions for no reason. God is the great physician. He heals the sick and wounded. And if God is to be known it must be through the catastrophic effect he has on the world’s harshest conditions. If a doctor is to be made great it can only be through his healing the most difficult injuries, the most perplexing medical phenomena. Did Christ himself not say that it is the sick who need a doctor and not the self-righteous? So why do we as Christians seek out safety and security. Why do we value protection above everything else? The answers are obvious. Comfort. Stability. Human nature. However these must not be excuses. We are more than humans in Christ. We have within us the ultimate cure-all. Cancer. Malaria. Influenza. HIV. All of their spiritual-world equivalents (and in another sense these things themselves) are obliterated through the person of Jesus Christ. Yet we who possess the cure stay as far as possible from those who are sick. We visit them on occasion as a friend visits a dying man in a hospital as his time is approaching, looking upon him with pity and talking about everything except for what’s really on his mind. We talk about sports, about how comfortable his bed is and how good his meals are. But we all know all problems would be solved if he could simply get up and walk out of that hospital room, back to the life he was supposed to be living. It’s plain to see. So why must the children of God Almighty, possessing (or at least capable of possessing) the power of God Almighty, watch quietly as the patient dies? Wake up, you fools! Christ has defeated death, He has conquered sin.  We must stop living like we are on the losing team! And there is no other explanation for this than that we are afraid. We have become so comfortable in our nice, suburban American homes that we are scared of what may lie in wait outside the city walls. Too many generations have passed and too far removed are the stories that we have stopped believing we are bigger and badder than all the crap of the world. All the wolves and serpents, ghosts and goblins, beasts and villains, utterly collapse before the face of the Almighty God of the universe. He spoke them into being and with a whisper he can wipe them from the earth. Yet as we earnestly seek to bring God near to us, we even more earnestly seek to build the walls higher to keep the demons out. We are mistaken. God’s nature longs to run rampant through the beaten roads where few are willing to traverse. He desires nothing more to crash into a thousand evils and expose them all. He begs for us to bring Him (though He has all the power to do so on His own) into the taverns and whore houses and the living graveyards of earth. For it is in these dark corners that His glorious light shines brightest, that the demons cower lower and lower to the ground. Yet so few are willing to carry His light. And those that do go often allow the darkness to dampen their light because even they do not truly believe in its power. But believe me. The power contained in Christ is such that no one on earth has ever truly witnessed it. We have caught the faintest glimpses, echoes of echoes, the remnants of His passing by. And even these are enough to make the depths of Hell itself shudder. We must seize this power. We must fight in the alleys, in the sewers, among the enemy. Then we will truly see His power.