The Dark Side of the Moon
Sorry revolutionaries, I am much older than you think. I can remember pulling Pink Floyd from the sleeve, placing it on my turntable, and listening to the dark side of the moon. In my room with my black light and lava lamp, it did seem like the moon eclipsed the sun. My room became a different world.
Since leaving on this journey, one son has been eclipsed by another. My sense of who Jesus is, and what he wants to do, is much different. I sense that I am walking with the same God, but He has revealed to me another face to see.
This Friday morning, I took a time trip back to the time of Jesus. I was still very much in the 21st century, but it was eclipsed by a sense of sandals, mud, pharisees, and a desperate woman. You know the gospels are filled with the stories of women who get it more than men - and are far more honest and intimate. I can think of a few - the woman who anointed Jesus with perfume, or the woman who touched the hem of his garment out of desperation… you probably have a favorite yourself.
Friday, our mens’ group met at North Star. We had a guest speaker who was going to share with us about “evangelism.” But today, we had a woman with us. I had not seen her before, but had a sense that something was going on with her, and that she was from the streets. I also had this other gnawing idea - I was going to find out soon what it was…
We began with worship - and as we did so, she sang with us at the top of her lungs. She moved around the coffee shop, sometimes standing, and ended up on her face moaning to God. At the close of worship, she went into the bathroom, and began moaning in there. The moaning changed to throwing up.
Meanwhile, I moved toward the bathroom. I had no idea what to do, but felt that I should move toward her at least.
Where it gets bad, is that the man leading the converstion, motioned to me something like this - “Can you get her out of here when she gets out?” I am not sure that it was this exactly, but I think that was the bottom line idea. Meanwhile the conversation about “evangelism” continues… I chime in something to the converstion about the fact that really what we are lacking is love, but I don’t know if anyone picked up the idea.
I knocked on the door to see if she was ok, and she came out “hardened” and telling me all is well. She walked around the room and began to ask the speaker questions. I could tell that the group was trying to figure out what do here as well. She was asking questions like this:
“What if you lead people to Jesus only to find them reject you?”
“What happens if you spend a year telling someone you love about Jesus, and they reject you?”
“What happens if someone says they believe in Jesus, but the next day they hit you in the face?”
Well, the answers were all given via the intellect. And she was going to keep asking, I could tell. The teacher finally gave her the idea that she needed to wait to ask questions. I could tell that the group was not going to enter into it with her. I was asking God the whole time, “what do I do?” I felt Him tell me to go outside with her and listen.
I asked her to tell me more about what she was going through, and we went outside. Someone else joined me as well, and we began to listen to her. Her story was about betrayal, about someone she loved who betrayed her, or used her. To be honest, I could not tell if she was schizophrenic, bipolar, tormented? But we just listened.
Finally I felt the leaning to talk to her about grace for herself. Did she understand the grace of Christ for herself? She said that “grace was both free and earned.” I disagreed with the “earned” idea. I asked if I could just pray for peace for her, not knowing what else to do. She agreed.
As we prayed for her, she finally settled down. In fact, she settled down so much that she fell to the street. She was lying face down, flat on State Street, as we prayed for her. Then she began to weep and cry out loudly to God.
“Why have I been abandoned?”
“Why has my family abandoned me?”
“Why do I have no friends?”
“I am tired of earth - I want to be in heaven.”
It was a mix of great anger, hurt, and pain. Finally she got up and walked away down the street away from us. My friend and I and a few others who came out later, talked about this experience for awhile. I am still trying to figure it out.
How loud must Jesus be in our friends on the streets, in the “ghetto” before we will drop our other agendas and listen. How sad it is that we continue our discussions on evangelism, when we fail to embrace a holistic Jesus.
A holistic Jesus needs to eclipse our middle class four spiritual laws believism. I continue to argue that the first step is our desire to be with the men and women Jesus loves - He doesn’t save people to put them on a shelf, but because He wants to be with them. We have to embrace the love God again.
God have grace on me if I am ever homeless, or lose my mind. Who will come and sit with me - will I be a waste of time?
So God uses moans, screams, wretching, lying on the sidewalk, questions to grab my attention. Well Jesus, you have my attention. Do you have a story to share, or a comment on this one? (My description of the story does not do the experience justice)