July 8
It was pretty remarkable, really, that out of the hundreds
of thousands of people in DC for the fireworks, we would end up sitting by a
couple from the Pacific Northwest. We heard them mention their joy over a
Huskies’ win (a UW team) and that got us talking. The man mentioned that he worked for a small private college in Portland. When we learned it was a Christian college, I exclaimed, “Hey! We’re Christians too!” and smiled over at
him. We were brother and sister! But this man was looking down at his
feet. He gave me a thumbs-up sign and
smiled a little, while still looking down.
A few minutes later, he was describing how his job included lots of PR
work, sipping coffee with all different people, one of whom works at the
Pentagon. I said something like it
sounded like a fun job to be hob-nobbing with friends in high places. He responded with, “Yes, but of course we are
all equal in the eyes of …” He paused,
his voice getting quieter. And he never
finished the sentence.
A few days later, I met a woman while standing in line at a
grocery store. She had a cart full and I
had just a few items, and she offered to let me go in front of her. I thanked her, and we got to talking. When she found out we had just moved in from Seattle, the first thing she said was, “If you’re looking
for a church to attend, my family has been enjoying Grace Baptist
Church just down the road
from here. We’d love to have you join
us.”
That afternoon, we played on the beach. A girl around Linnea’s age wandered over to
join us. She helped build sand castles
with my children and we soon noticed that her communicative and mental
abilities were at about a three year old level.
She was a cheerful girl, and everyone cooperated well as they played in
the sand. Soon the girl’s father came
over to join us, and we chatted while he kept an eye on his girl. “Kathy here has been a real blessing to our
family,” he said, within a minute or two of our introductions. “But what’s really remarkable is that before
she was born, I was a real shy man. And
now I have no choice but to walk up to families like yourself and introduce myself
because my Kathy has walked into your lives.
I guess God knew what I needed, so I could get out of my self-focus and
be more willing to interact with others.” His intimate conversation surprised me, for we
had barely met, and had given no hint of our own faith.
After seven years in Seattle,
I’ve become used to Christianity being something we don’t talk about. We can allude to goodness, kindness, or a
spiritual feeling, but we don’t say God.
Or church. Or Christian. We don’t mention right and wrong. Or being blessed. And certainly we do not bring up the name of
Jesus.
And how interesting that this man from the fireworks carried
that same sense! We look down at our
feet when we’re quoting the Bible. We
leave hints about things, but don’t actually say God’s name. Just recently, I noticed myself do the same
thing back in Seattle
when I answered someone’s question of “Where do your kids go to school?” I gave a generic “a school in Shoreline” and
then, when asked for more detail, “a small private school there”. Why didn’t I stand tall to announce that it's a Christian school where every subject is taught through the
lens of the Bible and where we proclaim that every square inch of this earth
belongs to God Almighty!” Sure, I knew that the woman I was speaking
with would not appreciate the Christianity part to my answer. But I didn’t necessarily want to hear about
her inner strength and her take on the balance within the universe, and yet I was listening politely. Why have I bought into the idea that the
Christian faith is less than the prevalent spirituality in the Pacific Northwest?
And why is it that the people around here on the east coast feel comfortable inviting the
stranger to church and discussing God’s work in their lives? Perhaps
it’s the history of Christianity in these parts? Whatever it is, I’d like to get me some.
I want to stand up straight. I want to finish my sentences.
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