The Christ in Christchurch

Today was our last day in Christchurch; tomorrow we'll be leaving (at 4:15 AM - YIKES) to fly to Sydney. We'll be spending a week there, and then we're off to Brisbane. JCrew and I used to sing "The Prayer" by Josh Groban and Charlotte Church in the noraebang in Seoul, so I've got some good experience under my belt. I hope it wows the people at the Sydney Opera House :)

Today was (and still is) Sunday. Its the first Sunday we've had on this trip where we've actually been able to attend church. We did some research and found an evangelical-ish church in the center of the city. The message was interesting (I'm still chewing on it) and the church seemed really community-focused. Overall I think it was a good experience, though it reminded me that church is about community, family - and I'm still missing my Seoul church family.

More than wanting to hear a moving speech, more than wanting to sing good songs, I want to worship amongst people I hold dear. I want to surround myself with family and with one voice worship the Creator. So the service today didn't exactly fill what I expected it to. As it turns out, the empty "church" slot in my week yearns to be filled with people, not a place.

After church, I walked to the grocery store to buy food to cook with tonight. As I passed the main square I saw a man holding a sign. The sign was ranting about the church and about Christians and next to him on the ground was a Bible. He was encouraging passers-by to literally stomp on the Bible. And there was a group of about 4 teenage girls around him who seemed all the happier to oblige.

As I walked past the scene, I was surprised to find that I wasn't angry. Granted, what they were doing was quite offensive, but my reaction was not anger. I wasn't stirred with a "How dare they!" attitude. I was surprised to find myself quite sad for them.

If I took a copy of "Green Eggs and Ham" and stomped on it, I don't think Dr. Seuss would give a hoot. Even if I wrote a book, which someday I hope to do, and someone spat on it, ripped it to shreds, poured gasoline on it and lit it, I don't even think I would be that upset. This is because their action cannot destroy my work, just as my proposed offense could not destroy Dr. Seuss by simply destroying his words on paper.

I thought of the verse: "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." - Hebrews 4:12

The Word of God is. It has been for thousands of years. If I write the word "Hello" on a piece of paper and you rip it up, the word "hello" still exists. I was (and still am quite frankly) perplexed of the motives of the whole incident.

And that's what brought the sadness, wondering what they've experienced in their lives to make them so determined to spite God and all the believers who witnessed their act. Is their anger against Christians? Probably. Our seemingly "hypocritical" natures often deserve that. Is their anger against the Church? Maybe. Against parents who pushed their beliefs onto them? Or is it against their own feelings of guilt that come as a result of their rebellion?

What a heart-breaking sight.

And while the pages crumple and tear, the azure blue sky simply exists, and brings more glory to God that they could ever take away.