So what do you get when you put a bunch of rag-tag, needy freaks in a room with an all-powerful God who has a strange affection for the broken and hurting? You get church. Real church. Not the church where the people care more about the building or programs than Mrs. Jones who lost her husband of fifty years last week. Nor the church where a bunch of rich know-it-alls gripe about the political correctness of "Onward Christian Soldiers" rather than pay attention to the girl who was date-raped last night. Nope, you get the church of Jesus. The church of the gathered bleeding.



This is my first blog entry (obviously). I'm not really skeptical, nor am I very cynical, but I'm just a dude with plenty of issues and plenty of thoughts. Not necessarily thoughts about anything great, or even that spiritual all the time, but just thoughts. In fact, I usually pose more questions than answers. That often leaves me pretty confused and scratching my head.



But back to the beginning. I've been a believer in this yahoo called Jesus for about four years now, and I'm a living, breathing lab experiment that verifies the power of the drug he's developed. What drug, you ask. Love, plain and simple. Isn't that what it comes down to anyways? Now I know my beginning comments may appear a bit standoffish, but to be honest, I love church. I love being able to go somewhere where I am greeted warmly upon entering, can hear songs about a lover from a far-off land, and can finally see true unity in people. It sounds like I'm more in love with "Cheers"....But what I am truly enamored with is when those in the church go out of their ways to really love one another. I suppose that's what separates us from the set of "Cheers": the fact that we are supposed to actually make it our lives to take care of one another. In fact, that's what originally actracted me to the Body of Christ, the church. Anybody can give a good handshake or play a nice song, but really loving someone, that's...well, divine. I remember after I first became a follower of Jesus (and even before), there was this group from a local church that would take me out to eat or invite me over to their houses. They always footed the bill, even when I had a little bit of money (which was rare, and still is!). What totally floored me was they didn't do it to get an opportunity to throw a track in my hands, or use me to increase their attendance or reach some obscure people group. They did it because they loved me. Don't get me wrong, Bible tracks rock. But for a guy like me, actually being shown that I mattered as a person and not a statistic blew me away. I've been going with this ever since.



Sadly, that kind of faith is becoming more difficult to find, especially here in America. Beyond the songs, the sermons, and the recreation centers, our call is to love. Deeply, honesty, radically, dangerously. It kind of reminds me of when Jesus told the Jews they were all slaves (John 8). We're the same way, getting all uppity and self-righteous when anyone challenges our comfy world. But the truth is, denial ain't just a river in Egypt! Spiritual or not, we're all a slave to something, but we get to choose our master. So why not choose a master whose nicknames are "Love," "Peace," and "Helper?" And why not experiment with loving the way Jesus loved. Sure, we'll probably die (figuratively or physically). But every great adventure and everything worth fighting for always has some level of risk. Why not radically serve a God who promised us more than the world?



That's all I've got for now. We'll see what thoughts come pouring in. Peace to ya'll.



jp