Tread lightly the path to a beating heart

I have been a missionary for twenty two years. This is who I am, this is what I do. I did not cross the ocean or even an international border. But I am trying to reach another culture. It is a culture that is aptly described as “post-Christian.” My mission field is the American University campus.

I talk with students and they have questions. We dialogue. My writing comes from these experiences. People say I have interesting conversations.

I’ve seen some changes on campus over the years. I have some stories. When I first graduated seminary and entered “the ministry” I was anxious to share what I had learned. Early on, I discovered that students weren’t always interested in the answers I had to offer. I found it was best to listen for awhile to identify the questions they were asking. I noticed that people like to be listened to. I also noticed that the questions changed as the relationships deepened. It seems that people don’t ask their “deep and real” questions until they have tested you with something a bit more shallow and superficial.

In an attempt to “engage” the campus with our message, we invite students to a meeting in their dorm lounge. It’s called “Stump the Preacher.” Basically they can ask any question they want. At one of these events, the turnout was mostly students who were involved in campus ministries and came to show their support. But there was one young man who came with some questions.

“I have a procedural question.” was his first inquiry, “Are we supposed to ask our ‘real’ questions, or are we just trying to ‘stump the preacher’?”

“We’d love to hear your ‘real’ questions.” I answered.

“Oh, I don’t have any real questions.” He returned, “I just came to try and stump the preacher.”

“Well that’s fine too.” I back-pedaled, “Either way we’d love to hear from you.”

His first couple questions were the usual “how can a good God send people to hell?” and “What about the heathen in Africa who have never heard of Christianity?”

Then, as it turned out, he actually did have a real question after all.

“My uncle died of AIDS. Did he go to hell?”

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. One must step lightly on the fragile path to the heart’s deepest queries. It is humbling to be entrusted with such vulnerability. I prayed for the right words.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know your uncle, but I can tell you what the Bible says about hell and God’s provision for people not to go there. Then you can decide based on what you know about your uncle whether he had a relationship with God or not.”

I don’t think it was a brilliant answer to satisfy his intellectual yearnings, but I do believe he felt listened to and cared for. Call it lowering my expectations or just realizing my limitations, but I am no longer out to change someone’s mind or even to convert them. If I can make them feel listened to and cared for perhaps this is a step towards believing that God also hears their cries and loves them.

I’ve often wondered, “Why me?” We can ask this question as a complaint about our sufferings or in wonderment at the opportunities afforded us during this earthly existence. And the two are not mutually exclusive. The vicarious suffering of Christ reassures me that if I am to become like him I too will become “like my brothers in every way.”

I’m afraid that when we’re introduced to Jesus as the answer, we may simply stop asking questions. At least we’re expected not to have the kind of questions that the unbelieving world raises. Perhaps by entering into the mental and emotional uncertainty of doubts we can stand again in the place where grace is offered. Then we will be better equipped to help others find this place.

Henri Nouwen offers this definition of a minister: “Someone who makes his own struggle to know God available to others, who want to know God but do not know how.” That’s what I want to do.

I’ve grown up with the Bible and with the view of it as an “Instruction Manual for Life.” I don’t disagree with this but I’ve noticed it’s not primarily a “how to” book. It’s a lot of narrative and even the most instructive passages say a lot more about what kind of person to be than what kind of stuff to do.

So I would like to offer my struggle to know God, and my attempt to help others come to know God, in the form of my stories. It’s safer that way. And though it’s not “seven easy steps” it may shed some light on the path. In the words of C.S. Lewis, “even a bad shot may give a rough indication of where the target lies.” Or as A.W. Tozer said, “ if my fire is not large it is yet real, and there may be those who can light their candle at its flame.”