I was in Balboa Park this weekend and there were all these skinny people riding their skinny bikes around in their skinny pants. They were very tattooed and rebellious-looking, like they wanted us all to know that they did not appreciate the establishment and wanted things to be different. I think they are going to vote for Obama if they aren't too busy sipping skinny cups of coffee to vote.
Part of me wants to be like these people. But I know that I'm not that skinny. What I mean by that is this: I don't really have a great desire to be rebellious anymore. I don't feel like I need to be a part of the generation that is change-focused and full of ideals and a whole new world which is coming up over the horizon. New worlds are so cool! They require a lot of people to get on board with them and start whole movements. So we have this movement of people who are rebellious and trendy and cool, they are artsy and so full of innovation and music and rage. They ride bikes and the bus, they have moved into the middle of the city because there is so much that is good in a close, tight urban environment and they want to take advantage of that. Many of these people are incredibly beautiful and interesting. They are fun and have interesting hobbies like drawing and writing songs which are played on common household items. Some of them probably know people with sailboats and they frequent coffee shops which contribute to them being edgy and innovative.
I am so convicted by my attraction to be like these people. And the trouble is, I want to infuse Jesus into all of it and make Jesus the reason for my cool. But it is all so wrong. I remember lots of stories about the '60s and all the change and innovation, the utopianism and idealism that was so pervasive among young people at that time. It sounds a lot like today. And I remember stories about the '70s. there was some of that left but it led to a more complete spiral down into widespread drug use that ultimately led to a cynicism and disillusionment with the rise of the yuppies in the '80s. Cool does not save. Cool does not fix or transform or make anything better.
We don't need another movement. We need people who will be good and strong and holy despite the coolness of a movement. This means riding your bike even though we're over bike-riding as a culture. It means eating organic and gardening even when we are totally disillusioned with the ability of our diet to affect the world economy. We don't do these things because they are cool or because small is the new big and simple is the new fad. We don't build green buildings on campus because we will be attacked if we don't. We do all of these things because creation is good, because we are Christian. We love the small because we follow a God who entered the small world of humans even though he could have stayed in his heavenly glory.
I heard a story yesterday about Merle Gray. He had been in ministry for 50 years ten years ago. 40 of those years had been spent on the Native American reservations in Arizona. He has had essentially no one thank him or let him know that they appreciate what he is doing. He has lived in quietness and obscurity, loving this people so deeply. He ministers the gospel and preaches the word; he is a sacrament of grace to the people that he comes into contact with. He lives the life of Jesus. He has sacrificed prestige and position in so many other places, he has laid down climbing up the ladders. In fact, his District Superintendent probably hardly knows that he was there. But he was there. He was loving and ministering with so much love and grace, so much humility.
I don't know if Merle Gray is still pastoring or even if he is alive. But I want to be like him. I want to be willing to live in total obscurity, to not be listened to, to minister in the forgotten places if it means that I am following Jesus. I want this life that I think I own to dissipate before the call that Jesus lays on my life. Oh Lord, break my sinful nature that sees the recognition and applause of people as the basis of all life. Teach me to love for the sake of Christ and to see that once I see people as you see them, then I truly see them. I do not desire to be recognized or known or to be part of anything significant. All true recognition is in you, Lord. All true knowing is being known by you. Father, you are the only one that makes this life significant. I offer it back to you in the smallness and loneliness of the crucifixion.
