I have to tell about something that happened to me
recently. I was out with one of my students from my ACIM class. We'd
gone to eat and were taking a walk in order to finish our conversation before
going our separate ways. I smiled and spoke to a small group of people
sitting on a bench as he continued to talk. I didn't think he even noticed
the group because we had passed them when he suddenly stopped, turn around, and
said to one of the men, "I know you." In fact it was a man he'd
not seen in twenty plus years. So there was a warm embrace, quick catch-up
info exchanged and then introductions.
I was introduced as a minister. It happens
sometimes because of what I do, I rarely introduce myself as such. I don't
like the barriers that titles like minister or talk show host elicit.
Others become overly self-conscious and often change the level of their
conversation. It is not as if I am offended by the respect or reverence
that they may be trying to show, its that authenticity goes out the
window. Try as I might to just be my fun loving self when someone
adds a title, it is as if there is an expectation that I'm judging, assessing or
desire to have the last word. I don't claim to be an authority or think
that I have some corner on God.
Most of friends know that at best they'll
be fodder for a show or a sermon topic at some point, that's it.
Back on the bench normal conversation continued for a
few moments while each person tried to establish themselves given the
introduction of my "so-called" title. One was a pianist for a
Baptist church, raised Apostolic and now attending a Pentecostal church with ministerial
aspirations, his girlfriend and the guy my friend knew who use to do radio back
in the early seventies. Uh-oh I thought - two talkers one of which was what
I call a holy-roller here we go, so I said a quick prayer surrendering the
conversation and its outcome to God. Suddenly, it was as if I was consumed
in a haze as I heard the aspiring minister ask both of us were we born again
Christians?
I don't recall what was actually said because there was
another scene being played out in my mind. As the man I was with stepped
forward and began talking, a scene of Star Wars proportions rolled in my
head. Like a Jet-I knight he pulled out his light saver sword, and began
batting down and blocking every bullet they shot in my direction. Their
bullets were in fact just scriptures, shouted out like machine gun fire. I
watched not saying a whole lot, but simply asking questions what I got back was
more scripture. The man I was with seemed engaged by the
banter. I, on the other hand, watched and listened a lot, bewildered
that the woman seemed upset and that the aspiring minister never expressed
a single independent thought. Everything was "the bible
says."
As we walked away I was struck that this man from my
class wanted to protect me. I learned a lot during that exchange, but also
used it as a teaching tool as well. First thing I said to him was that God
does not need soldiers, contrary to popular belief. While I appreciated
his gallantry I did not need protection. To respond to someone as if I am
being attacked means that I believed I could be attacked. That's self
attack. Only in my defenselessness can real strength be found. I had
no investment in being right or trying to sway their opinion. If I have a
ministry it is a love ministry, that does not mean I focus on where we are
different but rather where we are one. Therefore it matters not to me
whether one is Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu or Atheist bottom line is
LOVE. The second thing I told his was all minds are joined, so I
need not say a word. If I make the correction in my mind it can't help but
effect theirs. Talk is just a bunch of words its our works that matter,
what are you doing he kept asking them.
When the one man had stood up, the scripture thrower,
he puffed up as if to stand taller and be bigger. I myself was caught up
in and awed by my own thoughts. I felt love for this man not the
condescending kind that would say he'd get it one day. No, it was the kind
that wanted to simply bow down and wash his feet.
Love waits on an invitation, not a time.
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