Back to Basics

Last Sunday morning, I met for the first time with our "Foundations" class at church. It's a new class and is designed people who are new(er) to First Church, are curious about what we believe and who we are, and perhaps might even want to become members some day (if they're not already). The basic idea is to start broad (with what it means to be "Christian"), narrow down a little (what it means to be a "Reformed" Christian) and then narrow down even more (what it means to be a part of "First" Christian Reformed Church. That's the basic outline, but I'm developing the particulars as we go. That meant that last Saturday afternoon, I was sitting in my office, trying to discern what is at the core of the Christian faith--what people absolutely have to know--in 4o minutes or less.

Well, I thought it would be relatively easy. After all, I (like many folks at First) have been a Christian all my life, attended Christian day school and college, and spent the last four years of my life studying at a very good seminary. I have been blessed with a toolbox full of resources that should have made my task a simple one. It should have been easy.

But it wasn't. I sat there in my office, drumming my pencil against a legal pad, wondering what I should say. I started and stopped. Started and stopped. Drank some coffee. Started and stopped. Got some candy from Sandie's office. Started and stopped. It was turning out to be a much more difficult task than I anticipated.

I was reflecting on why that was so this week. There are probably a lot of reasons, but one stood out--that toolbox full of resources. It was a blessing, yes, but it was also my curse (if you'll allow me to paraphrase Spiderman). I had a million things to say. But I had nothing to say. With so much information floating around my brain, I was oddly paralyzed by the thought that I would leave something out or miss some crucial detail, or perhaps that I would lead my class astray by failing to explain the mystery of the Trinity or the many facets of Christ's atonement. I was overwhelmed by the possible complexities of what should have been a simple task.

I suspect that I'm not the only one who has this. Perhaps many of us feel that way when we try to talk to our neighbors or children about Christ. Because so many of us have been given so much knowledge. And while that's wonderful, I wonder if it overwhelms us and causes us to forget the true simplicity of our message.

I was talking with the other members of the staff about this in our meeting on Tuesday. What would you have said, I asked? One of them (it was a woman, if that narrows it down) responded by telling a story about a time she was in some far off place and was talking to a man she had never met before. She too, felt overwhelmed by all that she could say. But then, she said, she felt a gentle nudging of the Holy Spirit. "Just tell him that God loves him and wants to have a relationship with him."

It seemed simple. Unsophisticated. Maybe even childish. But she listened. She said the words. And the man started to weep.

Maybe it is that simple. God wants to have a relationship with us. In Jesus, God makes that relationship possible. And now we belong, body and soul, in life and in death, to him.



So: comments? Am I the only one? what are other roadblocks to clearly articulating our faith? (I have a few ideas, but I'd love for folks to comment...)