She thinks she could follow Jesus

Jenn is a junior who studies Arabic and political science, loves music, and has a hard time with religion. She’s open to talking about deep things, but is uncomfortable with religion.

A group of Christian RAs get together about once a month to pray, worship, and talk about their lives as missionaries on our campus. They invited me to talk about what Jesus thinks about social justice. Thinking it’s a topic Jenn would like, I invited her.

We walked through 7-8 passages where Jesus looks out for those that religious people would have avoided.  ”Who would Jesus be hanging out with today?” we asked. We had a great discussion, and were challenged to love people courageously, and be known more for what we’re for than what we against, to demonstrate love more than we dictate or describe it.

I invited three non-Christians to the gathering that night, Jenn one of them. They walked in, saw people they knew, felt welcome, and got to learn more about what their peers believe and the questions they are wrestling with. When they came in the door, I knew immediately that we weren’t going to sing, and that our prayer time would be limited. Though the topic that night was social justice, the focus was on those three.

I followed up with Jenn later in the week. She said, “I think if more people thought about Jesus that way, I’d want to be a Christian.” That may have been the highlight of my year.

How can we create more spaces where people can comfortably experience what Jenn experienced? We don’t need to filter what we believe, but our friends need an environment where they can be themselves and feel normal. I’ve written before (and said that night) that Christians need to get uncomfortable. (Ironically, another non-believer pointed out to me that in coming to our gathering he was in an uncomfortable place! Try bringing a non-believer to church and you’ll realize how uncomfortable it is for them) When Jesus taught, it seems to me that he made sinners feel at home and religious people squirm. Maybe the only people that should be comfortable in our gatherings is non-believers!

We have a generation of college students who are eager to introduce their peers to Christian community. How can we create welcoming environments and relationships so they can encounter him? My guess is that we Christians need to get uncomfortable.

Salt and smell

Last week in our small group I said that I’m not really sure if I’m making a difference at work. I’m not sure if any of what I’m doing actually makes any dent. It turned out this was a common theme. Today I was listening to a sermon and was encouraged to remember that salt always makes a difference.

You can think of a number of ways in which a little bit of salt makes a big difference. You can tell if there’s too much, not enough, or just the right amount. Salt always makes a difference. Right there, I’m encouraged. When we live like Jesus, we make a difference, no matter our standing or position or belief about ourselves. No matter if we feel insignificant or we don’t say a whole lot. Salt always makes a difference.

It’s like smell. Maybe Jesus could have said, “you are the smells of the earth.” Smell is always memorable (I’m told it’s our most memorable sense). There are great smells and there are terrible smells. Smells show signs of life, creation, death, and decay. You always know when smell is there, and there are very few smells that are “just there” without being either good or poor, nice or pungent.

He didn’t. There’s a lot to say on how Christians can stink up the world by misbehaving. Jesus said, “you who follow these teachings – you are the preservatives of the world.” Salt always makes a difference.

Hopeful insider

It’s Monday, and it dawns on me that I may be gaining influence at this university. Is this actually working?

Four years ago I ventured that I could work at a state school and maybe be able to make a bigger difference than if I was just part of a holy huddle. Three years ago I met some people who taught me how to be incarnational at work – to be more of an asset than a liability, to let my faith be more intriguing than irritating.

My personal mission statement starts with, “I want to be a strategic hopeful insider in the academy…” To be an insider is to be one who is trusted, who has relational and institutional influence. Two years ago I reasoned that if I wanted to be able to make a difference, I’d have to be someone people could trust. Last month I was invited to lead 25 students through a day long exploration of servant leadership. We talked about living for “this life” was far too little to live for, and that great leaders use their position to serve others. I hope it’s true of me.

Influence has given me the opportunity to teach biblical truths that I think are relevant and I hope make them think. Influence gives us an opportunity to fulfill one of God’s (I think) primary calls – to be a blessing to the world (i.e. “that all families on the earth might be blessed” Genesis 12:3).

The question I’m working through these days is, what do I do with influence? How do I be respectful enough of others that they listen, but bold enough that they are challenged to see Jesus in a new way? How do I make sure that people see Jesus and not me? How do I talk about hope as more than a ticket to heaven, or just a reasonable incentive that improves our American lifestyle? As a Christian, I do think there’s an uphill battle for people to trust me – they assume that a Christian wouldn’t want to listen to or advocate for someone who is gay, has had an abortion, sleeps with their girlfriend, questions creationism, is Muslim (and the list goes on). How can we be faithfully living “inside” culture to gain people’s trust, and show them that God’s heart can be trusted?

What I have going for me

Yesterday the coolest thing happened. I came home, and midway through our “how was your day” conversation, my wife interrupted me and said, “Beau – I have to tell you, the coolest thing happened today.”

I listened as she told me about how she got to share her faith with a co-worker. They had witnessed patience, hope, and compassion in her life and asked about it. When my wife shared that she was Christian, her co-worker backed off and asked if that means she hates gays, or is right-wing evangelical (her words). Rather than get defensive or argumentative, my wife explained how she feels called to love everybody because God first loved her.

Listen, I can try all I want to bring my faith to work and to campus. I read books, I develop tools, I create partnerships and build bridges. But, at the end of the day, the greatest thing I have going for me is that my wife is on the same page. The thing that most fuels my mission is that my life-partner believes the same thing and is doing the same thing.

My wife and I don’t have the same job. We wouldn’t even like each other’s jobs. Nor do we volunteer at the same place in church. What wears her out fuels me and what she does would wear me out. We don’t have the same ministry, but we have the same mission.

Bringing you in (III)

Dear Tony,

Woohoo! I’m on cloud nine today after talking to you. This morning you texted me, “hey man, hows colorado and married life? i’ve been really depressed ever since (girlfriend) broke up with me.” So, naturally, I called you up (apparently I don’t follow Facebook enough to know you broke up). I was so excited I called you in the middle of a double date, which I was kinda eager to get out of anyway.

We talked for almost an hour about you and (girlfriend). After a while you change gears and bring up a conversation we had months ago about forgiveness. “I used to think we could, or were supposed to, do it all on our own. I’m not sure if you were talking about spiritual stuff, but all this crap with (girlfriend) has really shown me that I’m not supposed to do it on my own.” We talk a bit about that and then you start talking about the wedding. You say, “the people I met at your wedding and at Cru are really changing my perspectives about Christians. I definitely feel like I met some people that don’t fit the stereotype I’ve had in the past. I’m so glad I got to be there.” Me too!

Thank you so much for that confirmation. I never know what words I say stick and what don’t. It’s amazing how God puts pieces of the puzzle together and that I get to help. I’m excited for you Tony, it’s cool how a little brokenness showed you what you couldn’t do, and interacting with a few broken people showed you that maybe that’s okay.

Bringing you in (II)

Dear Tony,

Since hearing my story at Cru (‘the 24-year old virgin’), I’ve seen you continue to connect with several students in Cru. It’s hard not to be thrilled – your stereotypes are slowly being broken down and you are starting to trust some Christians. Maybe you’ll notice there’s something different. Maybe you’ll start to feel free to ask real questions. Maybe you’ll be open to hearing the stories of others. This seems to be such a normal way to assimilate, belong, and believe.

We continued to look for ways to get you connected to God-fearing people. So, we asked you to MC our wedding. You would do a great job, I’d love the chance to show off one of my fantastic RAs from the last two years, and you’ll get to be around some amazing people who love Jesus.

So, we flew you in, and you spent three days with us. I’m almost positive nobody explained the gospel to you, prayed with you, or opened the Bible with you. I’m proud of the men who we shared a cabin with you prayed like they meant it around us, who talked about the love of Christ around our wedding, and who cared about you though they know nothing about you.

I hope it was worth it. I know you’ll likely never see these people again, but I hope it made some impact.

Thankful for you!

Bringing you in

Dear Tony,

There is just something about bringing you in to a group of fellow Believers. I was asked to speak about sex at Cru, an organic, challenging, and community-driven group of students led by staff members of Campus Crusade. I have often casually asked if you’d like to join me and go to this group. They ask great questions and are contagiously sincere, approachable, and joyful. In my mind, they break many of the stereotypes of “Crusaders.” Anyway, you’ve always turned me down. But in this instance, you had the opportunity to support me and so you and about a dozen of your fellow-RAs got over the fear of being “evangelized” and came and sat together.

At Cru, we never prayed, we didn’t sing any songs, and we never opened the Bible. Instead, they asked some provocative questions about real life and created a safe environment where you could be saturated with Christ-followers. You told me you got three invitations to hang out, get coffee, watch a movie, etc. You’re a long ways from believing the same things, but you’re on track to begin to belong. Thank God for groups like Cru who help to open doors!

Excited for you and your growing community.