I went to a church last Sunday where those who normally don’t attend aren’t asked to wear a visitor name tag or stand up to be welcomed during a special segment of the service. That makes me comfortable. I do understand the purpose of the name tags and such, but I like to look like I know what I’m doing even when I don’t. That probably stems from something I’ve totally blocked out of my consciousness from grade school or it could be some control issues. I’m pretty sure it’s the control thing.
At this church the regular attenders simply introduce themselves, offer a cup of coffee and visit with you. It’s easy. Some of our friends visited a large church one time and not only did they have to wear a name tag and stand up and be recognized, the whole congregation sang a welcome song to them. My hands sweat just thinking about that.
Chris, the pastor of the church I visited, is teaching a 20 week series titled Epic. He talked about how epic is a word used and over used like its predecessors cool and awesome. Epic means huge, impressive or heroic. He had us consider the greatest-of-something; like the greatest baseball player, the greatest movie, or the greatest album. They were all epic. The message was so relevant and thought provoking I wanted to be there for the whole series. I was staying with Jill and David and I’m quite certain they didn’t intend me to be there 20 weeks. I’ll get the podcast.
In the series Chris is covering the greatest sermon ever given, The Sermon on the Mount. It was most certainly epic. I’ve read that section in Matthew countless times but it struck me differently on Sunday. It’s like discovering something new in a movie you’ve seen more times than you want to admit. It’s hard to believe you missed it.
In verse 14 of Chapter five Jesus says to his disciples, “You are the light of the world.” Simple, but loaded. Light is attractive and we are supposed to be light everywhere, not just where people think like we do. Charlie Brown asked Lucy once what she would do if people didn’t want to believe like she did. She calmly said, “I’ll just hit them over the head with my lunch box.”
We probably spend way too much time slinging our lunch boxes around instead of just being light in a dark world. How would it be if we lived our lives in such a way people noticed there was something different and wanted to know what it was? Now that would be epic.