A Theologically Gated Community

One of a few metaphors Dave used this weekend. "So you build this theologically gated community. You get the walls tall enough, make sure all the gates are secure, the passwords set, only to look out and He is on the outside. 'What are you doing out there? You're supposed to be in here!' 'Didn't I tell you to love your neighbor?' 'Yea! In here, neighbors like us!'" Hmmm. . . . Easy to love people who are the same as you. What about others?

Another one: Dave was on a mountain bike ride, it was getting dark so he took a short cut through the railroad tunnel. It was a long tunnel. But he could see the light at the end. No sweat. There was enough light at the beginning, so he could see where the rails were and could keep in the middle of them. Bumpety, bumpety, bumpety. . . . As he got further in the tunnel it became darker and darker. He could still see the light at the end, but not anything in front him. "Oh no! I can't see where the rails are! What if I hit one and tumble over, and hit my head, and a train comes?! What if there is something in the middle and I hit it, and tumble over, and hit my head, and a train comes?!" But as he got closer to the other side, gradually, he could see the rails, until finally he made it to the end without incident. "When I got home my father and son were inside smiling at me as I got to the front porch. One still had light from where he came from, and the other could see better as he got closer to the end. But here was I, in the middle, wondering if I was headed in the right direction. I was doubting. But I see now that I can trust that as I ride through the darkness the light will come."

It was a relaxing evening. It wasn't a performance. Dave just sat there and played us some songs. I have seen him a dozen times. I like him. I trust him. He knows what it's like. Thanks, Dave.