Common Sense

Today, we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years.

No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

• Knowing when to come in out of the rain;

• Why the early bird gets the worm;

• Life isn't always fair;

• And maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate, teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch, and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student only worsened his condition.  Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or aspirin to a student but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses, and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home, and the burglar could sue you for assault.  Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot.  She spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death,

• by his parents, Truth and Trust,

• by his wife, Discretion,

• by his daughter, Responsibility,

• and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 5 stepchildren;

• I Know My Rights

• I Want It Now

• Someone Else Is To Blame

• I'm A Victim

• Pay me for Doing Nothing

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.  If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Somehow One

One of my favorite parts about getting to do what I do is the people I meet from all over the world.

When I first got here it was intimidating. Meeting Ines, Abdel, and Lily*. I remember asking Ines and Abdel, two presenters who frequently show their faces on camera in Christian programming, “How come it isn’t as dangerous for you two to put your faces on camera like it is for some other people from Morocco?”

Their response was basically, “It’s dangerous for us too. But that’s a risk we’ve decided to take.” Instantly I was humbled. I knew I’d led a privileged life in the states, especially when it came to religious freedom. So I always felt inferior. I figured God was probably saying, “You need to learn from these people. Look how much holier they are than you.”

And I certainly have learned a lot from them. But the more people I work with, the more my insecurities wane. What strikes me every time I encounter a believer from a new country or culture is not our differences but our similarities.

A couple of months ago I had the opportunity to talk to Rahim*, a young man from Morocco who gave his life to Jesus about four years ago and acted in one of our videos. I got that same urge to feel inferior. But as he told me why he decided to follow Jesus, he said, “My life didn’t really have a purpose. I was just going from one thing to another, and then I met Jesus. He gave my life purpose and freed me from addiction.”

As Rahim spoke, rather than hearing how inferior I was, I heard God saying, “Listen to how he talks about Me. It’s as if he’s speaking about the same God you know. Six thousand miles away from where you grew up, he found Jesus – the same Jesus you know, love, and serve. And in the same way that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever, I am the same savior to people from the United States as I am to people from Morocco, France, Australia, Nigeria…”

Even though we come from different countries, our love for Jesus and what He’s done in us often looks the same. The way Rahim talked about Jesus, His role and power in his life, and the things He had done for him sounded a lot like what He’s done for me.

Unity is not something that “just happens”. We live in a divided world. Conflicting opinions exist everywhere. Even among the body of believers, sometimes we’re so different that it stresses me out. But one thing that encourages me is the people I’ve met who come from vastly different countries but have been loved by the same Jesus I’ve been loved by.

The beauty and otherworldly unity of the Church speaks to the beauty of God Himself. His love is powerful enough to transcend our distinct countries, languages, cultures, upbringings, and not to mention, personal struggles. This one God brings us together, gives us new life, adopts us into the family of Christ, and somehow makes us one.

*Names changed for security reasons