Preaching Opinion

The pew was hard and there was no room for my knees, but so far, the message had been right on the money. A dozen of my girls were scattered around the sanctuary, some listening, some snoozing. The pastor was speaking on the family and marriage. He invited husbands and wives to sit side by side and emphasized that one's first priority and ministry were toward one's own family. He transitioned into the topic of homosexuality and the sadness of our changing situation. Countries around the world are sanctioning same-sex marriage and allowing adoption within this 'alternative' context. My head was nodding in agreement but soon cocked to the side when he asked, "Brothers, do you know what the root of homosexuality is? Why it is becoming such an issue these days?" People were glancing at their neighbors and I threw a few backward looks towards my girls. Returning my attention to the front, I heard the pastor answer his own question as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world, "Unisex!" "Yes, brothers," he continued, "Unisex clothing and men who wear their hair long!" He went on to say how even a slight shag on a man contributed to the problem of homosexuality. His next verbal burst of bunk began with this question, "Brothers, which gender wears their hair parted in the middle?" Congregants everywhere were whispering amongst themselves and my eyebrows almost arched above my head when he declared, "Women. Men should not part their hair in the middle." He went on to point out all the women present who styled there hair as such. Little golden stars get glued behind the names of women who keep their hair long and perfectly parted.

As I sat there with my ear-lobe length hair and the majority of my strands parted to the left, I realized that their would be no sticker for me this night. I wondered if I should be confessing my trespass of too little locks on the right side of my head. Instead, I stood up, gathered my girls, and left. This was not the gospel, but a pious preacher who thought the pulpit gave him the right to spout erroneous personal opinion.

God knows the number of hairs on my head. Whether they are long or short, parted to the left or parted to the right, does not add or take away from the perfect, unconditional love that he has for me. "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1. And those are his words, not mine.

The Most Excellent Way

The man is out of his mind. He rambles and roves around the ramshackle bus stop, waiting for the next #2 bus to come to a screeching halt. Once it arrives, he rounds the beaten up vehicle, inspecting the tires for air pressure and sliding the windows on their runners to make sure they open. One too many sniffs of paint thinner, or perhaps an overly hard punch to the head, and the man thinks he´s the official inspector of the #2 line of micros. Most of the drivers and passengers ignore him and some shuffle closer to the aisle. Once in a while, a hand will extend out the driver´s side window and drop a 1 boliviano coin into the shaking, soiled palm of the mumbling man. One afternoon, a driver leaned out his window and began to speak with the apparent outcast. ¨How are my tires?¨, he said, ¨Are they getting flat?¨. He continued to interact with the man and in the end passed a 5 boliviano coin to his waiting helper.

Helper? Maybe not so much, but the driver saw the humanity in this hobo and affirmed what he saw with his words and his reward. It was so simple, but what I witnessed was the most excellent way, the way of love. There is no fear in love. I admit that this man unnerves me and I´m not so sure I should be the one to embrace him, but I almost cried in my seat because I know that he deserves love and needs love.

God has been teaching me a lot about love since returning to Bolivia for another year. 1 Corinthians 13 was one of those chapters that I would often bypass because of it´s familiarity. My eyes would roll when I heard of yet another couple choosing it as their wedding passage...how about some originality people!? The profundity of these verses was lost to me. Thankfully, God shows me when I´m being a donkey and reveals to me the mysteries of his word...even the words that I think I know too well.

Something is different in me. Living here has changed me. The Holy Spirit is changing me. My love is bigger, my patience is longer, and my self control has grown. I arrive at the home each day with one goal: to love. Everyone needs affirmation that they are loved. Even the girls who aren´t very helpful or don´t seem to contribute much to the ambiance of the home need to know that I love them. They must hear that God loves them!

I was privelaged to see the short exchange of love between a bus driver and a disillusioned man, but I´m not the only one who saw. God sees every moment when we express our love...and the ones when we don´t. Follow the way of love. All other routes go nowhere and lead to nothing.