Balloon

This past Sunday during the sermon I heard a quote that has been haunting me like a pea under a princess' bed.  The pastor said "You can learn a lot if you pay attention to what makes you frustrated or angry."

The truth is, well, a lot makes me frustrated and angry right now.  Killing innocent people makes me frustrated and angry right now.  People suffering from natural disasters makes me frustrated and angry right now.  Saying God doesn't love people of all walks of life makes me frustrated right now.  However, the most interesting thing that makes me angry at the moment is...a balloon.

There is a story of this little girl who lost her grandfather. On a journey to visit her relatives, this little girl's parents bought her a balloon to keep her company.  Upon their family's arrival, they were greeted by an aunt who was still very upset over  her father's death.  All of a sudden, this little girl let go of her balloon, and it floated into the sky.  The aunt asked the girl why she did this, and the girl said something that began to heal her aunt's heart: "I'm sending it to grandpa!"

Now, it's a touching story.  It's a story of deep trust and simple faith.  It's a beautifully kind gesture.  And it makes me angry.  Why?  Because I know of people who would shoo the story away.  Who would say: "The balloon will pop somewhere in the atmosphere and never make it to grandpa, wherever he is"  or "Well, that was a waste of money" or "That girl is so limited in her understanding."

But it mostly makes me angry because I too can be so dismissive of things that don't make a whole lot of logical sense, but they are beautiful demonstrations of God's extravagant love.

What does this story make you feel?

So I Put My Hands Up, and then down.

Things are not always as they seem.

For example, I like to "fake punch" people as a sign of affection.  I'm not sure where that started, or why I still do it.  I'm not really even capable of being violent.  I would always get yelled at by my martial arts instructors to "hit harder!" "Think of someone you hate, and hit harder!"  Never worked.

However, my affectionate punches tie in nicely with something I heard at a concert this week.

Gareth Gilkeson of The Rend Collective Experiment made a statement about worship that I intend on quickly implementing.  He said (in a delightful and resonant Northern Irish accent):  "We all come to church guarded.  Every one of us, whether we are in front or in the back of the room.  So, we should all come to the church service with our hands up like this" 

Think this picture:

Gilkeson goes on to say:

"And so after we come in like this, our first act of worship should be to put our hands down." 

He went on saying: "We are not like machines, being manufactured the same.  We were not created for uniformity, but for unity."

Things are not as they seem in the church, and the whole world knows it.  We are all tired of fake promises of friendliness that don't lead to friendship, as well as hospitality that only sits on a table instead of sitting together at a table.  

Even so, what if all of us--me and you, you and me--what if we chose to put down our barriers ahead of time?  What if instead of coming to church with a stance of entitled expectations, we came with a stance of surrender?  

If we did, what would the church look like?