Prior to training camp, I spent a majority of my time scoffing at the banal platitudes that seemed to torrent my secular and spiritual life. Neither was omit. In fact, the overwhelming volume of spiritual fluff I experienced regularly threatened my personal tolerance for particular “Christian” social settings. My World Race squad was no exception.
Nonetheless, God had clearly spoken pursuit over me, inlaying a collection of promises and confirmations regarding His instruction to become a racer. So I simply mulled over the mostly narcissistic irritations I was dealing with and pressed on. Driving to camp, I contemplated many of the lofty expectations that lingered in my brain. From what I could tell, many of these people were different from me. The run of them seeming, in my opinion, to be surface-scraping emotional playwrights. The type of folks that constantly exceed the necessary unfiltered urges to say anything encouraging, even at the expense of being blatantly desperate. More or less, good people though.
I arrived at camp a bit late. Many of my squadmates had already settled in. Cresting the pathway to our campsite with pack in-toe, I navigated the sea of constructed tents with a look of superiority and disinterest in my new “family.” I quietly set up my tent on the outskirts of our lot, near an anthill. Almost immediately, people started to greet me. Whether I liked it or not, this was happening. These people were happening.
I don’t dislike people. I just can’t wiggle in to the notion that people are able to create a better humanity when the hope is grounded in flawed doctrines. Many people consider these views cynical. I liken them to the nature of my brain and the fact that my internal processer runs on theology more than it does emotion. Making me, as some people have described, an intimidating individual to interact with. As I learned at camp, this largely explains my aptitude for connecting with God through books, quiet time and sermons opposed to extravagant spiritual encounters during worship or other emotional derivatives of faith. Also, I am notorious for constructing imaginative perceptions of others based on their opinions, mannerisms and views on specific topics.
As the week unfolded, I tried to avoid any potential Christian sap-gab by serving when I could. That kind of thing erupts when a group of Christians assemble in one place and serving is a buffer. I’ve always viewed myself as a servant. I enjoy serving others because it keeps me occupied and it gives me time to think. One night, my squad had to camp in the woods. I decided to serve by creating a fire. As the fire gained traction, people felt compelled to stand in front of it and share their testimonies. One after another, people poured out hearts over strangers. Tears, laughter and shock coated the air. And as I carefully absorbed each story in between stoking the fire and transferring vegetables over hot coals, my emotion defenses weakened. God was speaking. In fact, I had a story of my own, so I decided to share it. And it made me emotional, and I survived. It even felt good.
Perhaps it’s ok to be vulnerable and emotional. Certainly within a reasonable set of parameters. And maybe these people weren’t as shallow or different as I thought. If nothing else, their stories were a validation of that. This blog post isn’t a miracle testimony to show you how God transformed my heart from a stubborn curmudgeon. I am still very stubborn and apt to curmudgeonry. What did change is my perception of people. Not necessarily on a global “humanity” scale, but at least on a “Christian” social scale. There is legitimacy in the way that people experience a relationship with Christ, even if the root of their connection isn’t bolted to reading theology. People aren’t less in-tune with God if they don’t study like I do. We are all filled with life in Christ uniquely. The fact of the matter is that we are a body, and the worshiping hands are just as vital as the sharp mind. And in true biblical retrospect, the two exist under one lucrative force and it's brilliant.
