Chapter 39 A Crusade of a Different Sort

This open air concept of a church without walls is strange, no doubt, for it challenges historical paradigms and boxes and linear thinking. It has a hoof beat all its own that resonates and even explodes forward, wrenching us from the shadows, the ordinary and the static; it can, at times, quite literally lift us up and out of pews and stone temples and thrust us toward something new and near and palpable.

And so, this peaceful army of ours, perceived or otherwise, departs en masse (with good intentions), on a Crusade of a different sort. We embark, come what may, for the redemption of those He calls us to: the downtrodden, the weak, the victims. We are indeed a contagious, pulsating power -- a force to be reckoned with; and so, in the name of this very peace, we advance, above and beyond fixed fortresses, bearing anxious souls and passionate, bleeding hearts. With our postures leaning outward and onward, we carry our cross of conviction before us, proclaiming that justice and love must prevail over tyranny and oppression.

As inspiring a scene as this is, however, could it be that, intentions notwithstanding, peace speaks too softly? Is peace itself, at times, drowned out by the battle cries of the fervent? Are there some among us who must always fight against something, because some opposing militia should certainly await us, clanging loudly with brandished sword and raised shield? What armed foe are they, that we can and should devour on our conquest?

"Someone must pay for this!" they scream over the throng. "Surely some are assembled, hiding and hunching just beyond that pass, their strategy bent upon our ruin!"

Well, of course, for we know that mankind has always seen fit to raise up, among its ranks, some enemy; some group or cluster who are un-chosen, unworthy, unforgiven -- some likeness to lesser humanity that walk this same earth but somehow deserve less than what we’ve been offered. We must, accordingly, initiate and execute their destruction by matching and raising their hatred, with our very own form of malice and our righteous anger, justified by some ancient indignation.

In the name of our God we march, lifted crosses carried before us!

We must indeed, for they are the blasphemers and the sinners; they believe, sure, but not as we do. Their practices and customs are strange and unconventional -- some other sect or order, some tenet or faith, forcing them to cling to false hopes and phony gods. Their truth is not as it seems for they are blinded by ritual, generational passion, some age old fury.

But, wait.

Does not each creation, in and out of borders and colors and culture, unto all corners of the earth, bear one genetic resemblance, communally, to God? Are we not six billion strong, with hearts once good, traded much too soon for trinkets and transgressions? Did we not, together, endorse some past fall when these common lungs first breathed in and out, rendering us instantly doomed? Were we not all resigned to cower in shadowed corners in fear of Him who made us?

Yes, we were.

But another One came before us who healed all as they came to him, for he knew the prospect of the Kingdom in each. He packed lightly and walked this sod with very little, despite what he could have rightfully carried and crusaded and maneuvered to force his way, to exact his revenge, in front of him and beside him, all sides of him, really, to announce his glory and power; to depict his regalia and magnificence. Yet, he chose another way.

And was not the truth of which he spoke simple and unfettered, beckoning this one and that, some lesser humanity, blasphemers, sinners -- those unworthy others -- to him through promises of freedom, grace and forgiveness?

1 By this time a lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. 2 The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, "He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends." Luke 15: 1-2 ~ The Message

Will we beg off from such a feast? What perceived sinner, different from us, from here or there, of doubtful reputation, will take our place at the table while we wring our scholarly hands together, clinging to our rules and regulations and assumed rightful seats? Who will sneak in ahead of us while we shout and hold our cross high?

Who among us will wrestle control from the Almighty?

And so, let the dust settle among this frenzied gathering. Let us, for now, lower our swords, remove our helmets and bring the horses to water. Inhale deeply the truth of a gentle, unassuming Christ, the One who knew of those stone temples and the laws within, yet also knew of something new and near and palpable; the One who smiled as he told stories and bucked custom and convention; yes, he, the very One who lifted his hand to caress faces, to muss up mops of hair, to carry burdens.

As we embrace and adopt his practices, let's advance this congregation with nary a mention nor posture of vengeance, lest it be directed solely at the dethroning of a dark prince, of evil incarnate -- not those whom he may inhabit with his lies, his deceit and his cruelty. (Therein lies a Crusade most worthy of our zeal).

We are a burgeoning assembly indeed, a collective influence fueled by Another, but we must realize that the cross we carry in front of us may be better served in our back pockets, to gently emerge when the time is right, when the questions are asked, as relationships and community grow tender; as we seek out the margins, the individual, the very creation and prized possession of God. We must inherently know this sin we carried, once forgiven, is cheapened if that very grace is not offered freely to the ones we seek on His behalf.

So, yes, absolutely, challenge paradigms, break out of boxes, color outside the lines; embrace a new beat and bust out of the ordinary and the static. But please, as you lift yourself up out of your pew, carry not that raised cross if it represents judgment or revenge, and nothing of Him.