Today I was sitting in church and I was overcome with a feeling I can't remember ever having in church. I wanted to break out in applause. I wanted to stamp my feet and to cheer. I wanted to get a little loud, a little loose, a little throaty. I would liken it to the way I cheer for the Seahawks, really. This is not who I am. This is not who my wife is. But I was telling her that I was feeling this way on the ride home, and she told me she was feeling the exact same way.
We had a pastor from India give the sermon today. He was talking about being a Hindu and deciding to read the Bible. He hated it. Why wouldn't he? It was telling him that what he believed all his life, in the plurality of the gods, was dead wrong. But the stories were interesting enough, so he kept reading. And it kept pissing him off. This went on for months. Then one night he went to bed, got up the next morning and he knew he was a Christian. He wanted to plant churches. He wanted to start a Bible institute. He did these things. And he founded an orphanage. They're up to 140 kids right now. Instead of these children being consigned to a life of back breaking labor, or worse, they're going to college and becoming engineers and doctors. These hopeless orphans will get an education and a chance because he happens to believe that a dead guy got up and walked after three days in a tomb 2,000 years ago. If that is any less deserving of a full-throated primal scream than a 40 yard touchdown pass then this life isn't worth living.
His incredible tales of provision, grace and change left a new motto lingering in my brain. "Christianity—We're not Effin Around." I know it isn't proper, but I'm sorry, we're just not. We don't believe in some middling do-goodery. We weren't charged with being moderate, even keeled and fair. Christians went for the whole damn enchilada. We're saying we've received a divine directive from the creator, author, king and sustainer of the universe to go and give aid and comfort to a crippled world. We're supposed to consider hookers before ourselves, to give of our time, talent and treasure in a frankly wreckless fashion. Are most of us doing that? No. But when you see it actually happening, well it's enough to make you say, "Boy, we're really not effin around, at least we shouldn't be. We've got the backing of Almighty God, and he wants us to flagrantly love a dying world." It's enough to, if your heart isn't too hard, make you want to clap your hands until they bleed, and scream your voice away for awhile.