Geoffrey Richardson 6/5/20 Geoffrey Richardson 6/5/20

Thoughts On 2020

“This guy's walking down a street, when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep. He can't get out.

A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up "Hey you! Can you help me out?" The doctor writes him a prescription, throws it down the hole and moves on.

Then a priest. comes along and the guy shouts up "Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole! Our guy says "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here!"

And the friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before...and I know the way out."*

I’ve struggled with what to write, not only over the last several years but this current year has left me finding words immensely difficult. Especially during highly polarizing times like the ones we find ourselves in, I often find that I don’t really have anything of value to add to the conversation. In the midst of every “hot take” and bullhorn-level social media tirade, it seems less useful to say anything at all, lest it just add to the noise.

In that noise, there’s no shortage of people trying to be positive, and find the upsides to hard times.

There are sermons aplenty; many of them good and needed.

There is enough political drama and commentary to cause any sane human to wonder where we all went totally wrong.

But, in the middle of all the noise & bluster, what of we as Christians did something completely unnatural and foreign?

What if, instead of demanding to be heard, we were silent and listened?

Not to another podcast, album or YouTube viral sensation.

Not to the five o’clock news, POTUS or our work Slack Messages.

But rather, if we sat a minimum 6 feet away from another human being, flesh & blood different than our own and listened to their stories? What could we learn? Something beneficial? Ways to help them? Maybe even learn something about ourselves, perhaps?

Think what you will of our current situation, but the outlook on the future is a rather bleak one. A depression the likes of which only our previous generations can remember is coming again. Our neighborhoods and streets are going to be full of people like our friend in the above story: in a pit that they can’t dig themselves out of.

This is our mission field now, whether we want to believe it or not. The people we once simply passed on the street are now (and have been, for longer than we noticed) a people in need, and another worship song, witty Instagram post or political/religious platitude will not be enough for them.

In his letter to the Corinthians**, Paul implores us to be Ambassadors for Christ to the world around us. The common frame of reference we have for that mission is one of someone pushing the agenda of a nation or people somewhere outside their homeland.

But for us, the other responsibility of an ambassador or embassy is the higher, and more important duty: of caring for the citizens and their needs, in our areas of influence.

Simply saying a prayer and walking on is no longer good enough.

Inviting them to church on Sunday isn’t going to put food on their tables.

Posting outrage on Facebook doesn’t help end brutality or fight injustice.

All of these are good and fine things in their own way, but they aren’t going to help our neighbors and friends get out of the deep holes that mark the landscape of our society. They don’t need a spoon to chip away at the sides of this pit: they need a backhoe. Or better yet, someone standing shoulder to shoulder with them and sharing in their suffering. A way out will come, but not until we’re ready to surrender our passivity or privilege, listen to those fighting to create a better future for themselves, and be willing to get our hands dirty by jumping into the crater.

Where is our love & empathy that should be the flagship of our faith? Did we trade it for comfort and security? Where is our selflessness or the call to die to one’s self & boast of nothing but Christ crucified for all of mankind? Was it abandoned in the name of building our kingdoms to further our own ends? “And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, chose this day whom you will serve”***

I guess what I’m asking is this: to what level of discomfort and sacrifice are you willing to give yourself in order to help the people God has places in your area of influence? Are you willing to bleed a little, or perhaps even a lot? These are unprecedented times, and I’ll be honest when I say I haven’t figured out exactly what it looks like or that I’m doing everything that I can.

At least, not yet. But I want to. And God willing, the darkness of these times will be pushed back, one shovel-full of love at a time.

*”The West Wing” S2E10: “Noel” - possibly the single greatest episode of TV ever written, by none other than the legendary Aaron Sorkin

**2 Corinthians 5:20 (ESV)

***Joshua 24:15 (ESV)

Geoffrey Richardson 7/21/18 Geoffrey Richardson 7/21/18

ALPHA (21JUL18)

There's a humorous story that Bill Nye (yeah, the Science Guy..good luck getting the theme song out of your head) tells about how he came to wear his trademark bow ties. In his own words:

"I started wearing bowties when I was young, in high school. My father showed me, and my grandfather showed him. There's a story behind this that I find remarkable. My grandfather was attending a convention in Philadelphia, and even in those days you rented tuxedos, and the tuxedo came with a bow tie; an untied bow tie.

He didn't know how to tie the bow tie, so he took a chance and went to the hotel room next door and asked 'Excuse me, can you teach me to tie my tie?, and the guy says 'Sure, just lay down on the bed.'

My grandfather wanted to have the tie on, but wasn't sure what he was getting into. He is said to have laid on the bed and the guy tied a perfect bow tie knot. Quite reasonably, my grandfather said, 'Thank you, but why did I have to lay on the bed?' The guy replied, 'I'm an undertaker...it's really the only way I know how to do it'

Like the helpful undertaker, we are all creatures of routine; sticking to what we know when there's usually an easier way. Most recently, I've noticed that the same is true in matters of faith. We all have certain issues that we feel a particular way on, or feelings that we find comfortable that we really don't want to mess with or ruin. We like what we believe for the most part. To each of us its like our favorite sweater that we can't wait to break out on the first cold day that comes around and brings us a sense of warmth. Or the iconic hat that is worn everywhere, shows up in every photo and defines who we are. We wear them so the world knows who and what we are.

Our beliefs are not too different, if we're honest. Perhaps we approach God in a certain way, because its the only way we know how. Maybe we were taught to pray or worship by the way our parents did, who learned from their parents, who learned from someone who only knew one way to do it. it may not necessarily be wrong, but there's something special about learning a new outlook on beliefs we always assumed were only a certain way. Or conversely, maybe we avoid God because it would cause us to learn something new about ourselves or trample the nice cardboard box that we had placed God in. Far too many of those who believe and those who don't have been hurt by things said and done in the name of God, and we use those as our excuse for avoiding the lesson on how to properly tie the bow tie knots of our faith, belief and convictions.

Simply put, life is too short and our perspectives too narrow. Chalk it up to us being creatures of habit and convenience. Maybe you don't feel like seeing or trying something different...but God does, and He's asking for you to come along:

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? - Isa. 43:19

I don't know your story, dear reader. But I do know that we were never meant to spend our lives going day-to-day the same way. If familiarity breeds contempt, then it might be we hold the gift of existence and the miracles of every new sunrise with far too little gratefulness. Wouldn't it be amazing to see something new? To be surprised by things unknown or taken for granted? God is asking if you see what He's doing, but more importantly, He's asking you to join in.

You've got all the tools you need; its time to stand up, look in the mirror and learn to tie a knot.