Because He Said So

     In my last month in Honduras I found myself--per usual--in a van full of smelly teen boys packed Sardines-style on top of our Houston visitors. Throughout the week I had been reliving the "wow-God's-kingdom-is-so-evident-here" experience through the team members' fresh eyes. Knowing these would be some of my last Micah-moments, I was grateful for this renewed vision, and yet sharpened eyesight also meant greater awareness of the coming loss. So... why was I leaving Honduras again? Oh, right, the John thing...
     Now, as I had been reviewing my John memorization in preparation for the coming call back to America, an unexpected story had begun to strike me. The wedding at Cana. When you spend a lot of time in a Scripture passage nuances begin surfacing that otherwise remain covered. In this case: the servants. Let me catch you up for those of you who aren't as immersed in this story. Jesus is at a wedding. The wine runs out. (Ultimate wedding faux pax. Shameful for the whole family... in a small town... where no one will ever forget it... Yikes!). Fast forward. Jesus tells the servants to fill a bunch of jars with water. Six of them. 20-30 gallons each. A lot of water filling... in bathing jars... while everyone else is freaking out about the wine. Fast forward. Jesus turns water into wine. Everybody parties.
     Okay, so what is that nuance with the servants that I was telling you about? Think about it: the servants took all their time to put a bunch of water in jars while everyone else must have wanted them to be dealing with the whole no-wine situation. Imagine the looks they got! The comments! Seriously? Don't you realize the bride is balling her eyes out for the shame this will bring to the family and you are filling up water jugs?! What a waste of time! Why aren't you freaking out about this? And still they kept filling. And filling. And filling. Until Jesus told them to take some out. Wait a minute, you just had us fill the jars and now you want us to empty them!? Yes. Doesn't make sense? Maybe not to you, but it did to Jesus. He knew what he was doing.
     And Jesus still knows what he is doing, even when we don't. So let's fast forward shall we? To over two thousand years later, to me, to this situation right now. Why was I leaving Honduras? And for America of all places?! From a social justice standpoint, it definitely didn't make much sense.  All I had to do was peer for two minutes out that van window to see shack after shack, boney dogs and hungry people, abandoned teens, and banged up lives.  Looking around at all the injustice and need, the most reasonable way I seemed to be "of service" to God's kingdom was right where I already was--dealing with "the issues" (which, in Honduras, is NOT a shortage of wine I may add). Taking time away from the hustle and bustle of daily life at our home of 20 in-need-of-attention teenagers in order to memorize chunks of a letter written by some fisherman 2000 years ago had already seemed crazy enough--now this? Really, now, what in the world was I doing?!?
     Probably best to get out of my own head in these situations. Thank the Lord for the Houston team currently sitting amongst us--one of which being my own pastor, John Crantz. Taking advantage of his consistently treasured up wisdom, I let him into some of this processing. And he shared some of that treasure (I knew he would).

     John:     Why did the servants fill the jars?
     Me:        Uh.... Jesus speaks with authority?
     John:      Jesus told them to.
     Me:        Right. Yes--that.
     John:      Why are you doing "The Gospel of John"?
     Me:         Because... Jesus told me to.
     John:      *content* Ok! That's all you need.

     I'm doing this because Jesus told me to... Okay. Okay, that's all I need.

     Let's fast forward again. I'm here. In America. In rehearsals. Doing what Jesus told me to do... Meanwhile, the world is going nuts. And for good reason. But let's be honest, Jesus said this would happen. That there would always be poverty in this world. That nation would rise against nation. That we would hear of wars and rumors of wars. That people would even kill others thinking that they were offering service to God--all because they didn't actually know Him.
     Meanwhile, when the wine seems to have run out in the world, here I am filling up jars. What am I really doing here, God? Following you, Jesus--wherever you ask me to go, doing whatever you ask me to do, no matter how crazy and irrelevant it may seem to everyone else. Why? I do what Jesus tells me to do because he knows what he is doing. He sees the big picture and he cares about people more than any of us. Jesus turns water into wine, and when he does I don't just want to be one of the guests at the party who gets a really good drink but doesn't know where it comes from--I want to be one of his servants that watched it all happen. Because the greatest joy doesn't come from the party itself; the greatest joy comes from knowing the One who is throwing it.
     Serve him with me. Taste and see: the Lord is good.