God Is Bigger Than the Mean Guys

I recently had the pleasure of bringing one of our church kids down from a small tantrum.

He had forgotten to feed the fish, so his mom said she’d do it. “But I want to feed my fish!” I was offered the chance to field the situation, which I, of course, had to do. I knocked softly and entered the darkened room, sat behind the slightly cracked door, and with just enough light to discern the outline of a distraught small child I listened to how much he wanted to feed his fish. After a while he decided that no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to feed his fish that night. It’s rough learning that you can’t always get what you want.

After that dust was settled we started talking about the rest of life, his friends and the games they played, which is grown up stuff for a kid. And then he told me he was scared of Mean Guys.

“Who are Mean Guys?”

“Mean Guys have swords, and when you’re asleep, they cut your head off!”

My experience and rationale told me that was ridiculous, and while Mean Guys with swords certainly could chop off a person’s head, there were no Mean Guys in the room. But, after reading Madeleine L’Engel’s Walking on Water, I had to remember that children have their own reality. I decided I’d go with it.

“Mean Guys, huh?”

“Yea! They’re really big, and even if you have a knife, they have swords, and they’re bigger.”

“Oh, yea, that’s bad. Do you think God’s bigger than the Mean Guys?”

He thought about it for a second, pointer finger on his chin, of course. And he responded,

“God’s bigger than everything! He’s even bigger than Giants. Like, God, if he puts up his finger, he can touch a cloud. But a Giant has to use his whole arm! God can even jump over a whole mountain, or pick a mountain up.”

“So, do you think God can keep you safe?”

“… Yea, I guess so.”

“So, you gonna go to bed?”

Realizing he’d probably been tricked, he let out a submissive “Okay.”

And then we prayed that God would keep him safe from the Mean Guys. I haven’t seen him since, but I’m thinking he made it through the night just fine.

I learned this lesson that night: Faith has to make sense for the real problems in life. We can talk about things that have to do with our beliefs, faith, religion, etc., and that’s great. We can discuss God is love, Jesus as man, and the Holy Spirit’s role in our lives. But until these truths deal concretely with the problems in our lives, they don’t mean much of anything to most people.

How well are we equipped as Christians to explain God in a way that makes sense to people? More importantly, in a way that matters to people? I’ve found that if God can’t keep a person safe from the Mean Guys, it really doesn’t matter if Jesus died for their sins. Theologically speaking, that’s really hard for me to say, but if it doesn't deal with real life, it's probably bad theology anyway.

While I don’t have any quick fix answers on how to make faith matter for someone else, I will suggest one thing: Listening.

If you listen to a person long enough, they will tell you what matters to them. They might not say it right out, but if you really listen you’ll hear themes, names, stories come up over and over again. Listen to any mother; you’ll know her kids matter to her. Listen to a teenager; it won’t take long to know whether they’re trying to fit in, or if they get along with their parents, or if they feel like they’re worth anything.

Then, after listening, listen again. This time, listen to the Holy Spirit. What does God offer that situation, that hurt? How is God able to speak into that life? What is the hope that matters in their life? That’s the hardest part to figure out. But if you’re not wrestling with that, you’re probably not doing much evangelizing, which is not (contrary to popular belief) converting people, it’s spreading the Good News.

What is the good news? It’s going to be different in every situation. Ultimately, we believe the good news is that Jesus has reconciled us with God the Father, and the Holy Spirit goes along with us to bring about a better world for everyone until Jesus comes again. But people need you to bring them real good news that matters for their lives.

For one kid, the good news that matters is that God is bigger than Mean Guys.

What’s the Good News in your life?

Walking (on) Water

Somehow I made my way to the lake.

It was that kind of dark that makes you wonder who's creepin' on ya; it isn't foggy, but it feels foggy. My feet carried me this way, then that, and ended at the place where I stood weeks ago, peering over the water. Only now, the place where I stood stands under a few feet of water. It's amazing what a month of rain can do.

I cast my eyes skyward to meet the greys and purples herding themselves along. Maybe they'd catch the storm that preceded them hours before. My head sank again to the lake. The ripples synced with the clouds, but halted at my feet, the edge of the concrete path-turned-shore the new beach.

I set my foot out, on top of the water. It sank an inch to the bottom.

I tried again; it sank again.

I stepped out with both feet, one at a time. This time, my socks dampened, and my eyes dampened as I lamented the lack of faith or grace that kept me from walking on the water.

But stepping out in faith isn't really faith. Inches are not a risk.

I needed to jump.

I laughed at the idea. I said I was crazy. I reasoned, though, that craziness would be not believing what happened to Peter could possibly happen today, and could not happen to me. Surely, rationale says that if a thing is possible once, it is possible again.

With all the reason I could muster, I backed up the flat black path, let out a boyish chuckle, turned, ran and jumped.

I couldn't help but think of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego who, before being thrown into the furnace, affirmed that their God could do the impossible, saving each one.

"But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:18)

For them, God not providing a miracle or doing the impossible is not a sign that God is not present. God does what God wills. Man is made to serve God, not the other way around. And I resolved that I would rather put my faith in God and sink than put my faith in myself and stand.

I turned. I ran. I jumped.

And I landed firmly on the same flat black path, six inches deep.

I let the water soak my shoes as I smiled up to the sky, laughing aloud, by myself, in the dark.

Sloshing back to my apartment, I felt faithful; this same God who lets me sink is the same God who makes me to stand.