Giddy.  That’s how I’d describe it.

Obviously, the term “giddy” doesn’t seem right, but it’s the only word that comes to mind which is even close…but it’s really more than giddy, it’s deeper, this sensation that I feel.

There is something about those Burning House meetings that I haven’t experienced in any other regular meeting of the church since I first began hanging out with the church.  It’s not something connected to our order of the service.  It’s not the songs we sing, even though there certainly is a lot of passion expressed during those songs.  It’s something else.

As I stand in the room, and catch glimpses of all the different people, I almost feel like I need to avert my eyes, the reverence I feel for God is so strong in those moments.  I feel like Moses before the burning bush.  The atmosphere is not what is usually associated with moments of awe and reverence…people are talking, laughing, chewing and sipping from plastic cups.  Almost without exception, there are smiles stretched across every face in the room.  Here and there, I witness glassy eyes that are barely containing tears from a torrent.

In those moments, no one would know it, but I start trembling.  It’s involuntary…but it begins in my knees and reverberates all through me.  I look at the smiling faces, the joy, the bread, the cup; all I can think about are Paul’s words to the Corinthians “…he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.”  If I understand Paul correctly, my sense of reverential awe is coming from this brush with Jesus Christ Himself, present in His body, the church.

We’ve been accused in the past of doing a disservice to the communion service in our Burning House meetings.  I couldn’t disagree more strongly.  I understand that it’s very different from a traditional approach, and I understand it requires a loosened grip on our former definitions of “reverence”.  It may not be everyone’s cup of tea…but I believe with all my heart we are on a good heading with it.

I wish I were a poet, or at least someone who is good with words, then maybe I could articulate what I experience at those meetings.   I watch a young man, a teenager, laughing with his friends, sharing torn bits of bread, handing a cup to one of his peers.  I watch him, his eyes closed, head held high, mouthing words of prayer for the one he holds hands with.  I see him, his face aflame with passion, his hands outstretched to heaven as he sings about his Great Redeemer. 

He’s not alone.  His passion is repeated all over the room, and my knees want to buckle because I’m in the presence of the body of Jesus.  The abyss of His love is like a vortex we’re drawn into.

Burning House keeps me alive.  There are a lot of things in life that I’m convinced are designed to kill me…at least emotionally.  I battle discouragement and depression on a daily basis, and sometimes I just don’t win.  But at Burning House I tremble before that Something So Much Bigger than myself, and I find strength…vitality, inspiration, motivation…to press ahead in the journey.  I can smile, remembering that none of this is dependent on me.  I’m too frail, too flawed for that.  It all rests with Jesus, present in His body.

 Rob Woodrum

He wasn’t really walking as much as he was dancing.  Dressed in a blue Power Rangers sweatshirt, he cavorted in front of the line of cars in the Wal Mart parking lot. 

I had to stop for him.  I watched with rapt fascination as he moved to a position that was more in line with my vehicle’s projected path than he had been  before, for the sole purpose of stomping through a puddle of rain water.  Was he Godzilla, smashing a town?  What images were conjured in his mind as water dropplets hurled from either side of his foot?  Another car came to a stop behind mine.

A strong hand pulled on the little boy’s left hand, and he literally soared away from the puddle, back into a position which provided more safety than his previous one.  Out from the path of the waiting cars, off to the side of his parent.  He tilted back his head, all buzz-cut and freckles, and let loose a laugh from the ride.

I didn’t move until they were safely inside, and I could virtually feel the impatience of the driver behind me.  I had to wait…let it soak in.  Lessons like that are important.  He was not in a safe place…nothing safe about a sea of cars laden with consumers.  Danger rolled on each side of him, in front and behind him, but he was calm.  He was dancing.  It’s all about who holds the hand.  For that little man, nothing around him posed a threat, because he knew his mom was there, holding his hand, guiding him to safety.

There was shopping to do, there were cars to park, but I was caught up in a little angel’s jig.

There are a lot of things facing me…facing us….that could threaten, and frighten us.  Bewildering things like church growth and responsibilities…mysterious things like illness and death.  I want to be like that angel in blue.  I want to joy in the journey like he did.  I want to trust that the One who’s holding my hand is good, and have confidence that He will guide us all through. 

The problem is, it’s easier to write about it than live it out.  Well…maybe not for you, but it’s that way for me.

Rob Woodrum

“We’ve got to be more politically involved as the church!  We’ve got to take this nation back for Christ!  We’ve got to get God back into our schools!  We’ve got to support our president and his war on terror, and stop the media from spreading lies and liberalism!  It’s our duty as Christians!” 

 Is it really? 

Why wasn’t Jesus political at all?  He was dropped right into the most tumultuous political and governmental turmoil that region of the world had known for a long time. Even apart from the Roman occupation of Palestine, the theocratic nation of Israel was intensely divided between Conservative Judaism and Hellenistic Judaism. The debates and conflicts were raging all around him, begging for his opinion and denouncement or support. 

Why didn’t Jesus get involved in politics?  Why didn’t he weigh in on whether the right or the left was closer to the truth?  Why didn’t he “take a stand” on at least one issue of political purpose?  As followers of Jesus, why is it our duty to take a political stand now?  Why do we need to be politically involved?  Why do we need to endorse Republican agendas and denounce Liberal Democrats and their values?  Or, on the other side of the coin, why do we need to write our congressman to stop a war in Africa, or push for social reform that will end poverty?  When did writing a congressman become something that superceded praying for peace? 

What changed?  Jesus didn’t involve himself in the politics and governmental struggles of his day.  The early church declined to do so as well.  In all of Paul’s writings, there is no mention of a Christian’s duty to get involved in the system and make positive civil changes.  Why are these things taken for granted as the Christian duty today? I can’t imagine that we shouldn’t vote…but is that our highest good?

I really want to know.