Shouting and Banging Cymbals

I feel compelled to say something loudly. I want to yell and clash cymbals. I want to stomp my feet, wave a neon sign and hire a brass band. I'm sure you're wondering what has me feeling the need to make so much noise.

It seems that a pervasive idea has come into our churches and our hearts that we can attract the world to Jesus by being just like them....only Christian. Frankly, I hate the idea.

I became a believer and follower of Jesus at 17, a senior in high school. Dark of heart, ugly of manner, foul-mouthed and deeply entrenched in sin, I was completely enveloped in the culture of my time and embraced all of the darkness it had to offer. How did such a person become a follower of Jesus Christ? I heard the Bible preached, and saw people who were radically different from me. It was a small church, typical of many small churches. Ordinary people singing very old hymns at the top of their lungs, with an elderly thin preacher in a worn black suit reading from an old leather Bible, preaching truths that were totally new to me. Sure, I'd heard of Jesus. Everybody had heard of Jesus. These people were different. They hadn't just heard about Jesus, and from the first moment I was around them I could tell. When they sang, I almost fell off the pew. Their voices were so loud and so happy that it stunned me. I'd never heard anything like it.

I had nothing in common with these people. Black nails, heavy make-up, and a mini-skirt housing a heart that oozed darkness totally akin to the times I lived in, but they loved me and welcomed me as I was, unconditionally. However, the contrast between us was unmistakable. I couldn't have missed it. I couldn't have pretended to be one of them, and they never pretended to be just like me. They were totally different. They knew it and so did I.

Because of these people I prayed a life-transforming prayer one night alone in my room. I knelt and met the Jesus these people sang about, giving Him all the broken ugliness that was me, to do with as He pleased, and taking all of Him in return. It was a forever exchange, no turning back, no other option. I would never have prayed that prayer if the people had looked and sounded just like me. I am so thankful that they didn't. I would have despised them for a wanna be worldling or a dishwater sort of Christian. Realizing of course that if it hadn't done much for them, it surely wasn't enough power to do anything for me. Their inward transformation came all the way through their skin to touch every part of who they were and consequently touched me. So it's with profound thankfulness to those who were radically redeemed and took the time to be that before me and wanting the same for this generation that I prayerfully post this.