"Nathan Britt! What has happened to you?! You should be ashamed of yourself!"
As I heard this question reverberate from behind me, it shot through my ear canal like a smack across the cheek, exposing the thin skin that I had developed from years of reading from the Bible and receiving praises via pats on the back and well-wishes from everyone around. I had heard that ministry requires you to develop thick skin, but I assumed that meant to be prepared when people get mad because you forgot to visit them while they were having a toenail removed or something. Maybe I was not ready for this. I was tempted to turn around and see who it was. They obviously knew me, by name, at least. And not to brag, but I'm pretty great with names and faces. But maybe this was not the ideal time to check my 6 o'clock and see an old acquaintance.
The sun was beating down on my face. I could almost feel the blisters forming on my bald head in synchronization with the salty sweat stinging my eyes. Probably should've worn a hat, but hindsight is 20/20, I guess.
Regardless, I'm getting distracted. I'm just here to tell people about God's love.
"A priest happened to be down the same road when he saw the man..."
I was halfway through a sermon but I'm not accustomed to hearing my name shouted out while reading scripture. There were actually many facets of this particular sermon that were new to me, though. I had never preached a sermon while facing an armed militia across the street. New territory. My mind went back to a conversation with my wife. She said that many churchgoers had threatened to bring weapons to this event. I told her "If they want to point a gun at me while I read the story of the Good Samaritan, let them do it." It seems they obliged. I was not even about to turn around and attempt to count the number of semiautomatics that could be found behind me. Let's chalk that one up to faith. As in, I have faith that these people may very well shoot me.
I had purposefully worn sunglasses, partially because this was an outdoor event in mid July so it seemed logical, but partially because I knew making eye contact with anyone would lead to trouble. So as I raise my eyes and take in the scenery, the seemingly infinite number of firearms surrounding me begin to get a little overwhelming.
Refocus. Just talk about God's love. Don't get distracted. Not by people yelling your name. Not by the DIY branch of the NRA that has showed up en masse to intimidate you. Just focus on God's love.
"So, too, a Levite, when he came to the place, saw him..." Back on track. The Good Samaritan is on his way.
I had also never preached a sermon while a man and woman, presumably a married couple, but this was no time to ask for a marriage license, screamed at me from a megaphone in an attempt to drown me out. The feeling of being called a sinner, being commanded to repent, and being warned about the flames of hell, all while reading from scripture, is not a feeling I will soon forget. I feel like the irony was lost on this crowd, but maybe I'm underestimating their capacity to understand concepts like irony.
Who knew that the words of Jesus and the parable of the Good Samaritan could be so inflammatory?
I came to preach the gospel. The good news. God created us in His image and He loves us so much that He came to die for us. The rally was called "No Hate in Our Holler," and considering this is my hometown, and that I'm against hate, and that I preach from time to time, it felt logical to offer a sermon and preach the love of God from the courthouse square.
Other people came to preach a gospel of their own creation. It was the good news as well. Good news for anyone from the Bible-belt south. A little less inclusive, sure. But to each their own.
Just focus on God's love, I remind myself yet again as the comments are becoming more and more personal and directed toward 'this boy who thinks he knows the Bible."
"But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came to where the man was..." Let's do this.
It's getting harder to focus, but just talk about Jesus and the Bible, right? What can go wrong?
Or at least that's what I tell myself. From the looks of these guns, a lot could go wrong.
The amount of thoughts passing through my mind would not fit into a blog post. Or probably even a book, save some works of classic literature that I don't have the attention span to read. Who will take care of my kids if I don’t make it out of this? What about life insurance? Do I have enough to cover my debts? Are you ready for my most random thought? Brace yourself.
What if these people are right? What if Jesus did not come to meet us in our sin, forgive us, and give us new life? What if he came to establish a culture; southern, white culture?
The entire Bible. All the stories. All the poems. All the letters. Meant for no one but people living in the Bible Belt in the year 2020. Everyone else? To hell with them. Literally. God's love only applies to people that love Toby Keith, NASCAR, and Copenhagen long cut. The entire Bible, from 'In the beginning,' to 'Lo, I am with you,' to 'the grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints.' Every word. Was meant to point us toward the salvation found in biscuits and gravy every morning and fishing every Saturday. That's what Jesus really came to die for.
The oppressive regimes of Nero? Those didn't really matter. The book of Revelation is actually about how the Confederate flag belongs on diesel trucks. Wisdom on how to deal with issues in the church? The letters addressing those were actually about how upstanding followers of Jesus would actually participate in at least one demo derby per year.
Obviously there is no scripture to back that up. I would never believe any of that. But boy, oh boy. These people sure seem to. With all of their hearts. And souls. And minds. And with all of their strength. They have gathered to worship their culture, put on a thrown and exalted above all. And from the size of the crowd, idolatry was the popular ticket of the day.
For the record, this thought was ridiculous. A fleeting thought that surprised me about as much as the word 'Samaritan' surprised the teacher of the law in this story.
I know Jesus said to love God and love your neighbor. That's the law in a nutshell. Genesis tells us that we're all created in God's image. Jesus even says that what we do to the 'least of these,' we have done unto Him. So I'm having a real hard time balancing exactly what is going on with these people. I truly think that they love the idea of God. In their defense, the god they have been taught about may very well be pleased with them. The god they were raised to worship may be taking delight in their actions and words. I'm just not real sure it is the same God that I know. Otherwise, I feel that this scene would look much different.
I'm really trying to take the high road.
"Repent," a lady yells at me. Through a bullhorn. Repeatedly. During my prayer. A solemn time with God. I wish that I could reply with, "Can you say that in Hebrew? Or Aramaic? Or any language that the actual Jesus would have spoken? Because I can. Sorta. I'll mispronounce it, sure. But let's hear you give it a whirl."
I bit my tongue. I'm just here to talk about God's love. Not ignite a riot.
"He went to him and bandaged his wounds..."
"You think you know your Bible, boy? Well where is your Bible?" Well. Where's yours? I have written it's words upon my heart. Like it tells me to.
But I don't say it. Stay focused on God's love. That's why I'm here.
"Then he put the man on his own donkey..." We're getting close to the end. Hopefully the end of the parable. Not the end of my life.
"You're headed straight for hell, boy!" Well. Do you mean Sheol? The Old Testament place of the dead? Or Hades, the Greek equivalent? Or did you mean Gehenna, the valley that Jesus was standing in where he proclaimed it's gates would not prevail against His church? Could you be more specific? Or did you simply mean some word that your dementia ridden grandpa told you about on his back porch as he explained the dangers that other races posed to your way of life? I'm confused. Could you clarify? Or are we just shouting?
Ok. Now my thought train is derailing. This isn't Christlike. I'm here to show love.
"Which of these three do you think was a neighbor..."
Maybe if I spent every day like I was preaching to a hostile crowd demanding I shut up before they end me, focusing on God's love would come a little easier. Why did it take this moment to make me remind me that I should always be focused on this love? And when things begin to distract me, I should always make an attempt to refocus?
I've nearly made it to the end, but I'm not even sure if I can make it to my vehicle. It has been encompassed by an army large enough to invade a small country. This scene sounds familiar. I've heard about a guy that was caught in a mob of religious people. He had been preaching about love while the religious chanted for his execution. He, too, was surrounded by a mix of law enforcement and religious scholars (and man, oh, man I am using that term loosely here) of his day. And I remember how his story went. Safe to say, it worked out well for the rest of us, but for him, on that particular day? I have to say that I am now officially fearing for my life.
This scene looks familiar for other reasons as well. I remember distinctly in John 8, a woman was caught in adultery. The religious pulled her away from the act, brought her to Jesus, and suggested that she be stoned, in order to fulfill the law. I look at the crowd that's actually listening to my story. They are holding up rainbow flags and smoking cigarettes. I'm looking at the crowd chanting through the megaphones for my demise. They are holding signs with scripture. It sure doesn't feel like I'm on the right side of this. But if it was the side Jesus was on, maybe I'm in pretty good company. The rich in spirit had shown up with their megaphones. They have their good deeds, sure to punch their ticket to eternity. But I am surrounded by the poor in spirit, acknowledging their sin and their need for grace. I heard somewhere before that theirs is the kingdom of heaven. So regardless of the fact that every righteous, upstanding citizen in town is on the opposite side, holding a stone in their hand, albeit in the form of a sign or a megaphone, I'll stick with the side that I'm on.
"...go and do likewise."
No comments:
Post a Comment