A Parable

A Parable

All Who Are Thirsty

I need you to form a mental picture with me. Imagine a man. We’ll name him John. John is in a desert, on a long journey to a destination that he does not know. All he knows is that he must continue on. Of course, being in a desert, this man finds himself thirsty for water rather often. At various points along his way, he finds small bodies of water. Sometimes he even finds an oasis, with some green, shade, and cool air that gives him temporary relief in his journey. Still, at every point this water is always dirty and mucky and quite often carries some nasty stuff in it. Every now and then John finds himself sick from it. But hey, it’s what’s there. And when he’s thirsty, naturally he’s going to go to this water. After all, even if it doesn’t always leave him amazing, and sometimes even makes him worse off, it quenches that thirst of his; that ever-present thirst that never seems to go away for too long.

One day, John comes across a stranger in his travels. This stranger doesn’t look like much, but something about him intrigues our character. So John approaches the stranger and greets him. The stranger greets him in reply. This stranger has a gleam in his eye. John can’t quite place it, but there’s something welcoming and friendly about this guy.

After some conversation, the stranger points out the obvious. “You look a little parched man.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Have you looked around? This desert never seems to end. Who wouldn’t be thirsty here?”

“Yea, I can tell you, this journey isn’t exactly a short one. Sorry man. The water that you do find isn’t too great, is it?”

Slightly frustrated that this stranger is bringing up his chief point of annoyance in life, John replies, “I mean, it’s all pretty much the same. Not especially clean…and every now and then I get a little sick. But hey, it still feels great when it quenches my thirst and it’s not like there’s anything else.” The stranger smiles to himself about something as John is thinking of his exasperation, annoying John even further. “Is this amusing to you? Are you any better off out here?”

“Not amusing,” replies this stranger. “I’m just excited about what’s in store for you.”

“What?” asks John, somewhat incredulously. He goes on to make his lack of amusement clear. “What are you talking about? More desert? Oh yay.”

“Well, yes, there is more desert. Everyone’s got to make this journey. But I can help you out. I have this canteen here. It’s kind of mystical. You see, it always has clean water.”

“Well where do you get this water to put in it? Why can’t you just tell me where to get it?” inquires John, with his curiosity now piqued, but still somewhat annoyed.

“No, you don’t understand,” says the stranger, with a knowing smile. “You’re right where you get it. Just take the canteen from me and it will always have clean water. It will never run out. It will be better than what you have and you’ll have it more abundantly.”

Now John’s a little skeptical. If this is so great, why doesn’t everyone have it? Who is this guy to have this thing? Tentatively, John reaches out his hand to accept the canteen. He grabs hold of it and decides to check this thing out for himself. He takes a swig. “Wow. That really is some good stuff.” But still, he wants to see about this. It never runs out? Seriously? So he drinks more. The thing is still full! John can’t get enough. He pours it freely, with it overflowing past his mouth and down his chin.

“Pretty great stuff, eh?” comments the stranger. “Sorry, I just realized I never told you my name. I’m Judah.”

John pauses from downing the canteen and wipes his chin, “Excuse my excitement. I just haven’t ever had anything quite like this. Can’t say I ever expected to find something like this in this place either. I’m John.”

“Oh I know,” says the mysterious Judah character, with a twinkle in his eye. “Your journey will forever be different now. In a very good way, I trust. I’m glad I could sate your thirst and make this journey somewhat easier for you. Now, I must go and continue my mission to bring this mystery to others.”

“Who exactly is this guy really?” John wonders to himself. Shaking Judah’s hand, John bids him a pleasant journey and the two depart.

As he continues on, John thinks a lot about this encounter. It always leaves him a little bit in awe and amazement; how his life could change so quickly and in such a great way, from such a simple gift. Soon enough, it’s been weeks since John was thirsty. The journey still isn’t exactly peaches and cream. After all, he is still in the desert. But it is certainly better and easier. And what was it that guy said about everyone having to make this journey? What exactly lies at the end? “I don’t know,” John thinks to himself. “But I have a feeling it’s something good. That man seemed to hint at that anyways. He certainly seemed to know more about all of this than I do.”

Just as he’s thinking on this, John sees some green in the distance. An oasis! Pleasant respite. As he gets closer, he sees the body of water home to this oasis. This water actually looks really inviting. He hasn’t really drank any water from anything but that canteen in so long. Why not try something else? He approaches and dips his cupped hands into the somewhat murky water. He raises his hand to his mouth and drinks it. Not incredibly amazing, but it is certainly familiar. It just feels good to drink something here from the ground itself rather than that canteen water. After taking his fill, he sets up camp at this oasis and falls asleep for the night.

In the morning, John awakes and finds himself not feeling too great. “Ah, that water I drank must’ve had something in it. Not again. Oh well, it tasted good and I had to drink something,” he thinks to himself. Wait, it seems that John has forgotten entirely about Judah’s canteen. It’s deep in his bag. How does that even work? How does one just forget about something that changed his life so drastically and that he found so wonderful? Days go by, John drinks fills a bottle up at various watering holes, and the old life seems to be back. One day, he’s shuffling through his bag looking for something and finds that old canteen from Judah.

“Wow! I totally forgot about you!” John exclaims as he lifts the shiny silver canteen. “How did that even happen?” He excitedly drinks from the canteen, finding his thirst sated in a way that it hasn’t been in days. Our character determines that he will never let this canteen out of his sight again.

Before too long, it’s back in the bottom of his bag, he’s found a tempting oasis, and the whole process has repeated itself. Each time he comes back to Judah’s canteen, he can’t imagine why he ever let it go for so long. Sometimes, the time he goes without it is very long. Sometimes it’s only a day. Sometimes he sticks to the canteen alone for months. Sometimes only for days. But each time he rediscovers it, it’s as fresh as ever. Always there to satisfy his thirst when he needs it, no matter how long he’s foolishly left it in his bag. As time goes on, John forgets about Judah’s canteen less and less. One day he reaches the final destination of his journey. There he finds Judah and a paradise that he never could have imagined. With open arms, Judah welcomes John.

“Welcome home. I’m glad I could sustain you all the way through the journey, even if it was a little bumpy at points,” Judah says. “Now you will truly never thirst or hunger again. After all, I am the source of the water in that canteen. Let me show you the beauty of this new life.”

Let’s Break This Down

This story is the journey of a man whose life is not too much different than ours as Christians. We are all on a journey through deserts and oases in life. We all came to the One who said that we would never thirst again if we drank from his cup. And still, we somehow forget this fulfillment from time to time. We wander. We drift. We fill our lives with water besides that from the Fountain Himself. We forget entirely about this Fountain and find ourselves with empty bottles that we must refill with dirty water, pursuing all sorts of things besides God, when we have this continually full and clean canteen right there, already full.

Here’s the thing. We are made full in Christ. When we put him aside, we put aside that only fullness we have. Naturally, we will need to fill our lives (or water bottles) with something. And it will most definitely be worse for us than Christ’s ways and fulfillment, no matter how appealing it looks. It doesn’t work to merely go on and say no to the dirty water. We have to drink. We are people in need of some sort of fulfillment; some sort of pursuits and passions. This is what Christ meant when he called us to abide in him. He didn’t call us to morals first. He called us to abide and drink from his cup. After that, all things of Christ will come naturally. When you have that canteen in hand, suddenly that dirty water doesn’t look quite so appealing. Suddenly, our sin nature, the nature of this world, those natural and dirty ponds, they all seem clearly lesser than this new Source of sustenance available to us. So today my encouragement to you is this: Drink from the fountain. Don’t fight thirst with nothing but an empty bottle. Keep Judah’s canteen on hand. Don’t struggle through a desert without the Fountain of Life present with you. And if you don’t yet have Judah’s canteen, let’s talk. I know a guy.

(This blog has been based on Isaiah 55 and John 4. Check em out. They’re pretty great.)

Thank You Baltimore

When I was six years old, I went to Baltimore for the first time. I have three memories from that bit of time. One, my family and I went to some fancy seafood restaurant near the harbor and I ate crab with the use of a hammer for my first time ever. Being encouraged to smash things at the dinner table is just about the best thing that can happen to a six year old, so of course I loved that. Two, we fed ducks and geese at a pond near our motel the day before we flew to move to the Azores. This was something we’d often done at my home before we began our moving process, so this was something familiar and special to me. Three, we walked along the harbor and through a shopping center and I found myself mesmerized by the employees at a fudge shop fittingly called “The Fudgery”. These folks were singing, tossing that fudge around, dancing, and providing a performance that just overall fascinated me. This little blonde kid with a bowl cut (me) was standing in front of the fudge case with a beaming smile. Their smiles, their laughter, their singing, the joy, and the presence of delicious fudge that I desperately wanted my parents to get for me…Well, as a six year old these were all of the best things in life. At the time I didn’t notice this fact, but in memory, these employees were mostly black. At the time, this was irrelevant to me. Now I can’t stop wondering what their lives are like there in Baltimore. Were they affected by these riots? Were they affected by police brutality? (In the last five years there have been 100 court judgments or settlements awarded to victims of police brutality and civil rights violations. And those are just the cases that got that far.) Are they still bringing people joy like they brought me? Is life and society bringing them joy?

Fast forward about five years later. I live in Virginia at this time. My family sometimes takes day trips up to D.C. and Baltimore. One day, we visit Baltimore and go by The Fudgery again. I loved it just as much as before. For my family, it was just a momentary pause. I don’t know if they even remember it. But I remember that brief moment we stopped by. It was a chance for me to remember an earlier joy I’d had five years ago. It was a chance to participate in an atmosphere of joy currently there before me. I remember one man in particular who worked there. He was black, singing as he flipped the fudge with his little scraper thing (I’m kind of unaware of fudge tool terminology), and smiling a big smile full of shiny white teeth. He had short dreads. He was a pretty young adult. I thought, “That’s a really cool guy”. Quickly, we were off to visit a science museum or something. But I’d had my moment. I’d gotten to see my favorite place.

Fast forward ten years. I now live in Seattle, WA. I’m watching racial tensions ignite across our country and praying for Baltimore as it experiences troubles I could never dream of. I’m praying for African Americans who feel unheard and utterly frustrated with the system of our society. I’m praying for the police and public officials in Baltimore, that they might be given wisdom, peace, and a spirit of reconciliation. I’m praying for business owners and the population of Baltimore, watching as conflict has descended on their home. But most of all, I’m praying for those people who made me smile as a six year old boy. I’m praying for that young black man, now in his 30s or so I suppose, who impacted me as an eleven year old boy. I’m praying that he’s safe. That he’s been free from police brutality. That he’s a voice for reconciliation. That he’s still bringing joy and happiness to people and wearing that big, contagious smile.

Baltimore, and the greater black community of our nation, is experiencing a great struggle right now. Pray for them. Stand with them. Acknowledge the wrongs wherever you want, but, more than that, choose to see the rights being done. Choose to see the good in people and strengthen that. Rally around the voices of reconciliation. Support the efforts for progress. Hear people out. Bring peace, justice, and understanding. Pray for Baltimore. Pray for Maryland. Pray for our nation. Pray for that man from The Fudgery with that beaming smile. I want you to know there’s light in the midst of these bits of darkness. Light like those people unknowingly displayed in my life. Light that we can all choose to see, support, and be ourselves. Strengthen this light and the darkness will fade. And thank you Baltimore, for putting a little bit of that light into my life as an awestruck boy at a fudge factory.

If you appreciated the spirit of this post, feel free to share it yourself! I would love to see these words stand out as a positive note in the midst of all the negative media we consume.

Why So Surprised?

Short post today, but I’ve just really gotta get this off my chest.

Very few things upset/disappoint/sadden me as much as my fellow Christians exhibiting outrage when persecuted. There is no humility in outrage. There is no love in outrage. There is no witness in outrage. The only times outrage was clearly justified within New Testament Scripture were when God’s Church or temple were defiled (when Christ overturned the vendors’ tables in the temple, when Paul called Christians to excommunicate those among them bringing evil into the Body, etc).

People, this is what we committed to when we chose to walk with Christ. Christ warned us time and time again that, hey, if you choose to walk with me you’re gonna have a tough time at points. It’s to be expected that people who don’t know Christ will act as, well, people who don’t know Christ (1 Cor. 5:12). So why do we act so surprised and angry when we get some flak?

I yearn for a day when Christian culture in America realizes that we have no greater opportunity to be a witness for Christ than to respond to all forms of persecution with the love, humility, and grace first shown to us by Christ. Please, I implore you today to dare to try to be like the Lamb who didn’t even begin to protest when falsely accused, tortured, and crucified. Let’s show the world something radical: an unnatural love it cannot know outside of Christ.