Making Contact

What is it? The attitude, the ambiance, the milieu? It is a feeling, yes, but something more. Let’s go back, we need to go back, in order to move ahead, we must go back.
This may be difficult, or painful, but bear with me. First and foremost, you must feel this, get in touch with it, know it like the edge of a knife against your soul. This is not esoteric knowledge, this is not rocket science. But once you have been here, to this place, you will not forget. And this insight will guard you. This understanding will make you aware, you can be sure; it’s something you don’t want to ignore.

Where was I? Going back, oh yes, back to the time when as children we could really communicate. Why did we stop? What happened to come between us? We learned more words, we gained more skill. But something was lost, we forgot to feel as we think and think as we feel. Fragmentation began to occur, and as we came apart at the seams our inner man was ripped apart, torn asunder by countervailing forces and undone, yes, undone!

Where was I? Oh yes. I was out there. That’s where you need to go. Putting yourself out there is the best way to come to these insights, perhaps the only way – but what do I know? I will attempt to show you – to uncover the secrets which should be no secret at all, things we once knew. Like children we must become; the children we once were.

How do I know these things? I am not so smart. What do I mean; I was “out there?” If you want to catch fish, you have to either go out in a boat, or find a body of water and get yourself down to “the edge.” I will not tell you where you have been, or why you have caught no fish. I am not so smart. But you can figure this out for yourself.

When I was a boy I would make friends with other boys. How would I do this? I would say, “Will you be my friend?” and if he said “Yes,” I had a new friend. But now it is not so easy. But at least you can ask yourself, “Do I want to be someone’s friend? This is a start.

As kids we shared so much in common with other kids. At the park, on the playground, we shared space, we were in the same place, and that was something. Being where you are is the first step toward being with someone. And if you can be with someone, you can avoid talking at them or just to them. You can have a real dialogue; you can enjoy the give and take of a two way conversation.

One way that I was “out there” was in being rather conspicuously placed, in a public place, the student center. And I was behind a table, draped with a banner, which labeled me, much like the sign kids will wear on their backs, if they do not know it is there, the signs which say, “kick me.”

“I usually don’t talk to people like you,” he said.
“Oh really,” I asked,”What kid of person am I?”
“Well, you’re religious, aren’t you?”
“That depends what you mean by ‘religious.’”
“Well, you’re probably a Christian.”
“Yes, I am, so why wouldn’t you talk to me?
“I usually get mad and yell and then just walk away.”

I ended up talking to him for almost forty minutes. Why is this? What makes me want to do this anyway? I feel called. It’s a challenge. It’s my job. But besides that. Why should I want to talk to people who don’t want to talk to me?

Like any good salesman, I believe there is something they need, and I can help them get it. But students, like people in general, don’t like salesmen and aren’t really convinced they need what I have to offer.

So I try to find out what it is they think they need, or why they think that Christianity has nothing to offer. Sometimes I think it’s all about asking good questions. But I can’t just ask questions of other people. First I need to ask myself some hard questions. Do I really want to know why they think Christianity has nothing to offer? Am I ready to sit here and listen while they tell me that the thing I have staked my life on is a joke and a hoax and that we are all a bunch of hypocrites?

Oh, but it’s so much fun. I really mean this. You do not understand but I am laughing inside. Just like the laughter that welled up inside me when my wife suggested this topic. She wasn’t sure that she communicated very well. But I knew exactly what she meant.

“You should write about how to answer people’s questions without getting defensive.”
“Oh, you mean, ‘the secret of being nice to people who think you’re an idiot?’”
“Or maybe, ‘How to turn the other cheek, figuratively speaking, when someone spits in your face?’ Is that a mixed metaphor?”
“You know, you somehow make them feel comfortable. So they can share their views without being afraid they’re going to be attacked.”
“So the topic is, ‘How not to attack when you’re being attacked.’ I’m afraid I may not be able to put the answer to this in Six Easy Steps.”

This brings to mind more hard questions:
Can I be nice to my wife when I feel like an idiot?
Am I sure that I’m really not an idiot?
Are Christians just a bunch of hypocrites?
What about those days when I’m not sure that Christianity is working for me personally?
Am I a shining example of all the great benefits Christianity has to offer?

So why am I laughing you say. This is really not funny. No it is not. But I am funny. I am a joke. I am God’s idea of a joke. I have this treasure in jars of clay. I am a jester in the court of the King of Kings. If they don’t get the joke, it’s not my fault. If they don’t get the truth, it’s not up to me. But if I take myself too seriously, they may miss the point. A student once defined “dogmatic” as “the inability to laugh at yourself.” That is, not being able to see what is funny about your own beliefs.

Paul said that his presentation of the gospel did not rest on man’s wisdom, but on God’s power. Sure, I want to be clever, I try to be well-read. I think I am articulate and well-read. I don’t want people to think of me as an uneducated country bumpkin. I wouldn’t want them to think of the Christian world-view as anti-intellectual.

But what I preach is the “foolishness of the gospel. What I preach makes me very vulnerable. It sets me up against the spiritual forces of this dark world. I am a kid wearing a sign that says, “kick me.” Except that no one put this sign on my back while I wasn’t looking. No, I wear it on the front. I put a banner on my table that identifies me as an Ambassador of the Kingdom of God. The prince of darkness does not like that.

I said it’s all about asking the right questions. Once you have asked yourself, “What am I afraid of?” and faced these fears, you can start to have fun. But you need to listen. You can learn a lot if you listen. Socrates drew people out with two questions:

“What do you mean?”
“How do you know that?”

I am not so smart. I have this treasure in a jar of clay. But it is a treasure. Others may be smarter, or not. But they have no treasure. They will attempt to conceal this fact. They do not want to be found out. Don’t be too hard on them. They may not be aware of it themselves.

Using Socrates’ questions you can help them examine things. (. . . because the unexamined life is not worth living.) Everyone’s real treasure is where their heart is and what they are living their life for. If you can make people feel comfortable, you can get them to bring out their “treasure” and show it to you. You may even help them realize that it is not valuable, that it is really no treasure at all.

“I’m a non-practicing atheist.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I don’t believe in God, but I still talk to Him once in awhile.”

This is funny. But how funny is it if those who claim to believe in God and know Him personally forget to talk to Him?

“Does you group believe the fundamental doctrines?
“Like what?”
“For example, I believe the entire Bible is true.”
“Have you read the entire Bible?”
“No.”

Is that funny? Did I know what he was trying to find out? I think so. Do I want him to think about what he’s saying and how it’s coming across? Absolutely!

One day I came into the Student Center and saw a table where a young lady was passionately seeking signatures for a petition in protest of President Bush’s cutting Federal aid for “Reproductive Rights Development” in Africa. So I asked a few questions:

“What kind of things was the money being spent for?”
“Programs to educate women about birth control options.”
“You mean like condoms and abortion?”
“Yes.”
“So what is happening now that we have withdrawn funding?”
“Well the poor people won’t have these options available so they’ll keep on having children and the poverty will get worse.”

After she explained more about why these programs were so important and what she thought would be accomplished through them I finally responded:

“I see, since their culture is so ignorant about these things, we need to teach them our views on reproduction, because our ways are so much better.”

She looked very puzzled. This went against everything she had been taught about “anti-ethnocentrism” and how you shouldn’t go trying to change another country’s culture.

“No,” she said slowly, “that isn’t it.”

This was her “treasure” – a cause worth fighting for, something to be passionate about. But she really hadn’t thought it through.

There are people “out there” who have needs. Most everyone needs a friend. Someone to share a moment, share a sense of place, someone to be with them. Life on the edge is exciting, but there’s always someone trying to scare you, trying to push you off or pull you back or make you think you shouldn’t be “out there.” Many times they are well-meaning Christians who are trying to find vindication through proving to everyone else that we are right.

“The truth shall set you free.” “Perfect Love casts out all fear.”

The truth is that it’s not about the jar, it’s about the treasure in the jar. This is very freeing and helps keep me from being defensive. It also sets me free to laugh at myself. That way I don’t mind so much if others are laughing at me.

And if I ask for love for the people I’m trying to reach, I can face my fears, even embrace my doubts. What if I’m an idiot, Christianity has nothing to offer, and we are all a bunch of hypocrites? I’ll take my chances, but I’m not afraid to entertain the questions.

Do you feel it? Like a kid again I am running out into the dark, exploring the unknown and looking to make a few friends. Think as you feel and feel as you think. Let yourself go back and “be there” then share that space with someone else.

Get in touch with the treasure God has placed within yourself, know it like the edge of a knife against your soul. Once you have been here, to this place, you will not forget. You can be sure, you can be passionate, you can know that this thing you have found in Christ is what they need. Then, and only then, can you help them find it.