This week I found myself at a Christmas Party. I would have much rather been anywhere but there, however, here I was sitting among a myriad of complete strangers. I tried miserably to start a couple conversations but I couldn't find a connection to work off of so conversations fell on the floor like crumbs. The open bar behind me was never empty and I couldn't wait to finish eating, listen for the winners of the door prizes and get out of there before anyone got too drunk. Karaoke and dancing were not of any interest to me so the sooner we could get out of there the better. Unfortunately, my plans were thwarted as they said the door prizes would be announced randomly throughout the evening. Personally I really didn't care about the prizes but they were kind of an indicator of when you could politely leave. So there I sat leaned up against my husband for warmth as I sipped my water and waited for the time to pass.
Eventually, toward the end of the night a man came over who obviously knew Marty. His words were slurred with drunkenness as he went on to say some derogatory and untrue things about one of my children. The mama bear in my wanted to rip my claws across his face or at least stuff a dirty sock in his mouth. He went on proclaiming to love my child like his own. Emotions I didn't know I was capable of rose up within me and I leaned a little harder on my husband who kept his arm around my shoulder. Then to top it off he acknowledged that he knew we were Christians because he knew our child and he wanted to let us know he was a Christian, too. Thankfully he decided to stumble away at that point or I'm not sure I could have kept biting my tongue. At that point I no longer cared if it was polite or not, it was time to leave. I fumed all the way home. Marty just kept reminding me that he was drunk and to let it go. I didn't want to.
The next morning scenes played over and over in my mind of people at the party. They were dressed nicely. No one was really mean or rude, even the man who set me off was trying to be "nice". They all seemed to be having a good time singing and dancing. Laughter could be heard throughout the room and even conversations were at times drowning out the music. It was me who was out of place and it got me thinking.
What is it like for an unbeliever to feel obligated to go to a Christmas service at the church? There everyone is dressed nicely and they are kind. But is that where it ends for them just like the party should have ended for me? As they look around at all the happy strangers do they feel unable to connect? They here promises of "prizes" like peace and joy but they have to endure the whole services to get it. People around them only compound their discomfort and desire to leave as they sing and dance to songs they don't know, either. Well meaning people tell them how much they care about them all the while the unbeliever is thinking, "you have no idea what you are talking about, how dare you pretend to understand me." By the end of service they've been told things that kind of got in there face and maybe it set them off so that as soon as the service is over they are ready to run for the car and get out of there, fuming all the way home.
Now before I'm misunderstood, I am NOT saying we shouldn't invite them to church or that we should stop having Christ centered services because it might make someone uncomfortable. But I am pondering. So many times especially at Christmas and Easter I hear people putting so much hope into a church service that they finally got their love one to agree to come to. They think that somehow just by getting them in the door they will see what a wonderful time it is for us and they will want to be part of it, but I think more often than not the results are disappointing and maybe even discouraging as the unbeliever swears to never do that again.
I wonder, are we approaching this with a misguided mindset? Just as I was totally uncomfortable and couldn't wait to flee from the party maybe unbelievers are just as uncomfortable in our services. What if instead of hoping to get someone to church so they can hear a message - what if we lived a message? What if at work when we were getting coffee, we met them where they are and shared our story? What if as we sat next to them at the kids Winter Choir Concert we connected with them? What if at the grocery store we offered a kind and understanding word when their child is out of sorts? What if instead of working so hard to bring them into our comfort zone, we worked just as hard to be the light in their comfort zone? What if instead of begging them to come to our party we begged God to soften their hearts and show us how to go to them?
The following Sunday our pastor shared about Christmas from the angels’ perspective. He talked about what a great privilege it must have been to tell Mary and Joseph of what God was going to do. He told rather convincingly of how the angels must have been on the edge of Heaven waiting to proclaim the good news of what God had done through the birth of Jesus to the shepherds. Do we consider it a privilege to share of what God has done in our lives? Do we wait eagerly for those times when we will have the opportunity to share our story which is really His story? Do we live our lives in such a way that our story reflects our Savior? It is so easy to get caught up in the cares of this world and become unfruitful as we take care of this and that but it is all in vain if we do not live a life that brings glory to Him. He asked us to go and tell. Why are we so afraid? It is simply the story that He is writing that we have to share. He didn't say beat them over the head or bully them into believing. He didn't even say we had to convince them into believing he simply said to go and tell His story. A witness in a trial has only to tell what they saw. It is not their job to convince anyone of anything, they simply tell their story. The convincing is up to the lawyers and the judgment is up to the judge. We are simply the witnesses. Are we telling His story with gladness? Are we living His story with integrity before him so that our story is something others will want to hear?
This Christmas I am going to think a little more outside the box. I will look for ways to meet people where they are and tell them His story. After all isn't that what this season is all about - Jesus coming to meet us where we are?
Dear Lord,
I pray for all my friends who read this blog. Would you help us all to live Your story with integrity and share it in love with our neighbors right where they are. Give us the boldness we need to do whatever You put on each of our hearts to do. I pray that you would prepare the hearts of the people we would share with and that you would bring the right people into our paths who will be able to relate to each of our unique stories and that we would point them to You.
In Jesus name,
Amen.
Eventually, toward the end of the night a man came over who obviously knew Marty. His words were slurred with drunkenness as he went on to say some derogatory and untrue things about one of my children. The mama bear in my wanted to rip my claws across his face or at least stuff a dirty sock in his mouth. He went on proclaiming to love my child like his own. Emotions I didn't know I was capable of rose up within me and I leaned a little harder on my husband who kept his arm around my shoulder. Then to top it off he acknowledged that he knew we were Christians because he knew our child and he wanted to let us know he was a Christian, too. Thankfully he decided to stumble away at that point or I'm not sure I could have kept biting my tongue. At that point I no longer cared if it was polite or not, it was time to leave. I fumed all the way home. Marty just kept reminding me that he was drunk and to let it go. I didn't want to.
The next morning scenes played over and over in my mind of people at the party. They were dressed nicely. No one was really mean or rude, even the man who set me off was trying to be "nice". They all seemed to be having a good time singing and dancing. Laughter could be heard throughout the room and even conversations were at times drowning out the music. It was me who was out of place and it got me thinking.
What is it like for an unbeliever to feel obligated to go to a Christmas service at the church? There everyone is dressed nicely and they are kind. But is that where it ends for them just like the party should have ended for me? As they look around at all the happy strangers do they feel unable to connect? They here promises of "prizes" like peace and joy but they have to endure the whole services to get it. People around them only compound their discomfort and desire to leave as they sing and dance to songs they don't know, either. Well meaning people tell them how much they care about them all the while the unbeliever is thinking, "you have no idea what you are talking about, how dare you pretend to understand me." By the end of service they've been told things that kind of got in there face and maybe it set them off so that as soon as the service is over they are ready to run for the car and get out of there, fuming all the way home.
Now before I'm misunderstood, I am NOT saying we shouldn't invite them to church or that we should stop having Christ centered services because it might make someone uncomfortable. But I am pondering. So many times especially at Christmas and Easter I hear people putting so much hope into a church service that they finally got their love one to agree to come to. They think that somehow just by getting them in the door they will see what a wonderful time it is for us and they will want to be part of it, but I think more often than not the results are disappointing and maybe even discouraging as the unbeliever swears to never do that again.
I wonder, are we approaching this with a misguided mindset? Just as I was totally uncomfortable and couldn't wait to flee from the party maybe unbelievers are just as uncomfortable in our services. What if instead of hoping to get someone to church so they can hear a message - what if we lived a message? What if at work when we were getting coffee, we met them where they are and shared our story? What if as we sat next to them at the kids Winter Choir Concert we connected with them? What if at the grocery store we offered a kind and understanding word when their child is out of sorts? What if instead of working so hard to bring them into our comfort zone, we worked just as hard to be the light in their comfort zone? What if instead of begging them to come to our party we begged God to soften their hearts and show us how to go to them?
The following Sunday our pastor shared about Christmas from the angels’ perspective. He talked about what a great privilege it must have been to tell Mary and Joseph of what God was going to do. He told rather convincingly of how the angels must have been on the edge of Heaven waiting to proclaim the good news of what God had done through the birth of Jesus to the shepherds. Do we consider it a privilege to share of what God has done in our lives? Do we wait eagerly for those times when we will have the opportunity to share our story which is really His story? Do we live our lives in such a way that our story reflects our Savior? It is so easy to get caught up in the cares of this world and become unfruitful as we take care of this and that but it is all in vain if we do not live a life that brings glory to Him. He asked us to go and tell. Why are we so afraid? It is simply the story that He is writing that we have to share. He didn't say beat them over the head or bully them into believing. He didn't even say we had to convince them into believing he simply said to go and tell His story. A witness in a trial has only to tell what they saw. It is not their job to convince anyone of anything, they simply tell their story. The convincing is up to the lawyers and the judgment is up to the judge. We are simply the witnesses. Are we telling His story with gladness? Are we living His story with integrity before him so that our story is something others will want to hear?
This Christmas I am going to think a little more outside the box. I will look for ways to meet people where they are and tell them His story. After all isn't that what this season is all about - Jesus coming to meet us where we are?
Dear Lord,
I pray for all my friends who read this blog. Would you help us all to live Your story with integrity and share it in love with our neighbors right where they are. Give us the boldness we need to do whatever You put on each of our hearts to do. I pray that you would prepare the hearts of the people we would share with and that you would bring the right people into our paths who will be able to relate to each of our unique stories and that we would point them to You.
In Jesus name,
Amen.
Marty's Mom came over and helped us add some Christmas lights to the house. It's amazing how much time it takes for that little bit. I like it though.
RSS Feed