A Link in the Chain

A Link in the Chain.

Someone told me a story about a young man who lived carelessly. One day, in biology class, he was looking through a microscope, watching certain organisms that you can actually see living and dying and begetting others in a moment of time. Something about it impacted him, and he rose from the microscope and announced, “Now I see it. I am a link in the chain, and I will not be a weak link any more!”

When I sat across from Lynn the other night in Chicago, I knew it was no accident we had been seated next to each other in class, and later found ourselves talking over a strange menu that contained a bunch of goat entrees. (!) Wanting to know about her life and family in Rhode Island, I asked questions and actively listened to her replies, noticing a theme running through her conversation--fear. (referenced in Morning Briefing, Living without Fear http://pastorwoman.com/ReadArchive.aspx?id=1504)

She talked about her experience in religion, and that she goes to church regularly. As I listened, it occurred to me that while she has religion (even church), she has missed the power and presence and comfort of an individual relationship with God. By the end of dinner, I leaned across the table and passionately but carefully asked, ‘Lynn, is it possible you have religion, but you don’t really know the love of God?’ She pondered it a moment and then said, ‘Yes, I do think that’s possible . . .’ Our conversation was cut short because our 90-minute limit allotted time at the table had come to an end, so we had to vacate the space.

We agreed to meet again for dinner the next night, but were unexpectedly joined by a third party who unfortunately changed the entire dynamic of the conversation. The first was my only opportunity with Lynn, but I know that God will not waste it—he will put someone else in her path. Why do I believe that? Because God does not desire for her to live in fear, he wants to extend his love to her, and I was just the first link in the chain to draw her to himself.

I know this to be true: ‘A person’s coming to Christ is like a chain with many links… There are many influences and conversations that precede a person’s decision to come to know him. I know the joy of being the first link at times, a middle link usually, and occasionally the last link. God has not called me to only be the last link. He has called me to be faithful and to love all people.’1

Another night, I sat at the end of a counter studying my class notes, eating a salad, when someone took the seat next to me. Striking up a conversation (I do that a lot—have you noticed?), I eventually brought up the topic of faith: ‘So, are you a man of faith?’ And this is the first time anyone ever answered bluntly, ‘No, not at all.’ Usually, even if they are not into God in any way, they say something like, ‘Not so much,’ a little softer answer—not Todd from Atlanta.

‘Has it always been that way for you?’ I asked. And then he told me about his faith story—drug around to various churches when he was young, but he had never connected with God at any of them. [Note to self: ‘Connected’ is a really important swing word when you are talking with people about any relationship in their lives. It is so telling.] One by one, I asked him questions of logic, trying to find some understanding for his complete disinterest in any kind of higher being. He did not seem wounded and was not bitter, so that wasn’t it; he enjoys a great life, family and work. But oddly enough, even though he is a construction manager, which usually means a mind who wants answers about the origin of the universe or the reason for matters like how he got here, and the order in the world, (sunrise, sunset, gravity, etc.,), how things fit together--none of that mattered to him. Interesting.

It was time for me to head out, but first I asked, “So Todd, what do you think will happen when you die? I mean like, if you and I were crossing right out here in the middle of State Street tonight, and a bomb went off, and we were mangled so bad, death was eminent, (which could happen these days, right?), you wouldn’t think, ‘Gee what if there is a Heaven? Gee, maybe I should have looked into the God thing, and now what’? You wouldn’t say, hey Pastorwoman—about this God of yours… you wouldn’t be asking me about him then—I mean, just in case?” He smiled, rubbed his chin. The best I could get out of him was to perhaps give it a little more thought. I smiled, nodded once, paid my bill and walked back across State Street (safely, no bombs). A link in the chain?

Why do I do it—talk to strangers about God—just to write about it, to tell stories? I love people, meeting them, hearing their stories—and I love God, and telling his story to people. Life really is all about story in some way or another, I think. And for me it is an adventure story. I think of the words from Isaiah, Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" Then I said, "Here am I. Send me!"2

As for the chain, I have oft-times been the first link, the middle link and the last link—no matter, as the biology student said, my part is just not to be a weak link. Paul said, ‘I planted, Apollos watered, but it was God who gave the growth.’3

One last thing—I find so many people who think everyone has heard about God; they’ve already got him if they want him. That is not true—not anymore—and not anywhere. Some folks have religion, but have missed relationship with God; some folks have not heard that Jesus came to set them free. They do not know the greatest love story ever. They do not know that the Lord can be their advocate, healer and friend. As Paul so succinctly explained, “Before people can ask the Lord for help, they must believe in him; and before they can believe in him, they must hear about him; and for them to hear about the Lord, someone must tell them-4 Be a link.

Christine

1 – Cliff Knechtle; 2 – Isaiah 6.8; 3 - 1 Corinthians 3.6, KJV; 4 – Romans 10.14, NCV