All Aboard

I've known for at least a week now that I needed to blog, maybe longer. I don't know why it's so hard to get started sometimes. The picture I carry of how things work in my head looks like an old train yard. There are multiple tracks and my ability to focus or speak intelligibly often has a lot to do with how many trains are moving at any given time. It's tough to pick one and ride with it when it comes to blogging. However, there is one train that's been blowing its horn louder than the others this week, so I figured we'd hope on that one today and see where it takes us.
I'm going to steal the title for this train from an article released by Relevant Magazine today called "Party Theology." It's been over a year ago that the idea for a ministry called "Overflow" first became a recurring theme in my life. I'd attended a concert with a friend who's coworker was playing in the band on a backyard patio at a bar near downtown Fort Worth. The bar scene was completely foreign to me, and I felt as though I stuck out like a sore thumb, and I fully expected to be pointed at and made to feel stupid for venturing so far out of my comfort zone. But, that's not at all what happened. I was completely facinated. In the hour we stood there, I had one woman strike up a conversation with me about the bracelet I was wearing, another offer to show me what was on her camera that was making her table laugh so loudly, and still another scoot her chair over so that we'd have more room to stand. On top of all that, I happend to be watching my friend's coworker when he spotted us in the crowd. The way his face lit up left little doubt in my mind that our presence that day was of great value and encouragement to him.
A few months later, I met with others from our singles ministry and we began working on "Overflow," an intentional plan to spend time in bars and other places we might have opportunity to encounter lost people. I freely admit, I was extremely excited, nervous, and naive. We calendared about three different "Overflow" activities, and while it definitely generated some interesting discussion in our group, the original idea never really took off.
A couple of weekends ago, I had several opportunities to hang out with my friends in a variety of places around town, including one of the karoke bars we'd originally marked as a target for "Overflow." As I sat with my Bible and journal that Monday morning, reading from the gospel of Luke, and presenting my prayers before the Lord, something strange occurred to me. I felt no guilt. I felt no conviction. What I did feel was a continued desire for the presence and voice of the Lord in my life. My time with Him was sweet, and His grace in my life clear. How could that be? :-\ I mean, it's not like I had been on a church retreat or anything.
As I continued to ponder these things, I was reminded of something that had happened the night before at the karoke place. Toward the end of the evening, one of the bar regulars was at the mic. (I know he was a regular because he was there the last time I was there for Overflow.) He had a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and he glanced back at our table and declared, "these people know how to have a good time." We cheered and laughed, and my mind raced. What would he say if he knew who we were? Knew that we were Christians from a church just down the street? That our one common bond around the table was our love for Jesus Christ? Would he not be interested in our God? Would that not at least peak his curiousity? As the next song played, I continued thinking about the possibilities. I hadn't gone there to be intentional, wasn't planning to "witness" to anyone, but when I was there, celebrating with my friends, Jesus was there with us. I confess, I was more than a little surprised to find Him there, but so excited to recognize Him.
Today, I read Luke 15, the parables of the lost things found. And, I read about how Jesus went to the home of tax collectors and sinners and was numbered among them because he came to heal the sick, to rescue the lost, to save the sinner. I have pretty much spent my whole life avoiding places like that, country bars (that's a double whammy with dancing and drinking!), karoke bars, anything that might appear evil. And, all the while, people were lost and dying and going to hell while I refused to get close to them because I might be confused as one of them. Oh, how I must continually repent of that attitude.
I am not saying that all church members should run out and find a favorite local bar. I'm not saying that you should abandon any conviction the Holy Spirit may have put on your heart about alcohol or dancing or any combination of the two. I am saying that our salvation is by grace through faith, not by any works of our own. It is not earned by the things that we don't do anymore than it is earned by the things we do. The only thing good in me is Jesus, and if Jesus sat among thieves and tax collectors, who am I to shun them?
Going back to the term "party theology" which refers to the idea of partying with sinners, it's increasingly odd to me that we make evangelism a task or activity. For those of you who have ever been in love, did you ever have to schedule time in your calendar to tell your friends about your beloved? Of course you didn't! It was the most natural thing in the world to talk effusively about him or her. Evangelism, witnessing, sharing about Jesus is the most natural overflow of a life completely abandoned to Him. If you're finding it difficult to talk to others about Him, if nothing in you feels driven to seek opportunities to tell someone who hasn't yet heard the story of what He's been up to in your life, maybe you're not yet fully convinced for yourself that He is truly your very great reward. Can I encourage you to ask Him to show you how to find utter satisfaction in all that He is and to give you a story to share with anyone who will listen? I promise, it's a prayer He'll delight to answer. ;-)