Crossing Over

As I continue to read Change of Conversion I have increasingly become aware of the personal nature of this quest of mine. It pertains to me. It is not some vague, abstract notion that lieth somewhere yonder, but indeed, it first lay within me. If the early Christians were indeed sacrificial in nature, and if this was one of the chief marks of their conversion, holding that model up next to my life is a bit challenging. Sure, like many of my contemporaries and peers, I have sacrificed some, but in retrospect those choices I have held up like trophies are all superficial now. I have not even come close to the sacrifices they've made. Sure, I've quoted the trite sayings, "All for Jesus, God thank you that I live in a Land of Freedom, thank you for a lack of persecution," - all the while confused at the reports of prayers coming from the other side of the world, "God, let the Westerners see their lostness, their decedant dependancy upon wealth."

Lately, the deep poverty that my wife and I have found ourselves in has had an interesting effect on me. I admit that like others, I have been confused by the statistic that says 90% of the money given to the church and its work comes from the poorest people. Now I get it. I am near the bottom. I can't get the toys. I can't go to the latest shows. Finding work is all that lay between me and starvation, and finding work isn't automatic - there is risk there. Now I live a life of risk - one step closer to a life of sacrifice. It is only a little farther to go.

Tonight, in this snow-stormed city of Vancouver, cuddled in the apartment while it is deep-frozen outside, one more flicker of a light shone within me. I was reading the news, about the homeless, about all the Christian organizations out there, handing out sleeping bags, buying hot coffeas, and letting wanderers sleep in their buildings. For once I felt like I could be one of them. It only meant getting out of this apartment, onto the street, and meeting people. I didn't have to go very far to find them. When your eyes begin to open to the poor, you find that to not see them requires more concentration than to merely notice. What I saw tonight, let me tell you - perhaps I'm not that far away from crossing over into real Christianity after all . . . . .