Tumbling walls

But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the prison doors and brought them out, and said, “Go and stand in the temple and speak to the people all the words of this Life.” And when they heard this, they entered the temple at daybreak and began to teach. Acts 5:19-21

So Friday was the first gathering of our new community group around the now-stained and sadly faded orange and pink striped tablecloth.  As we settled in after the drippy cheese dip and black stone bowls of soup we turned to the time-tried community-building tradition of answering questions and telling stories.  One of Alan’s questions was, “What keeps you from sharing the gospel of Jesus?”

And the answers were all the sorts of answers lying in my heart: not wanting to be confused with political stridency, not knowing how to translate spiritual concepts into modern language and culture, sensing in myself shifts in understanding of Scriptures and Truth, opening up festering wounds of my listeners, desiring to be a listener and not a talker.  Yep, yep, yep.

However, upon reflection, one has to question the source of these, well, let’s be honest: fears.  Fear is a prison, man-made.  Hard bars constructed of lies, lies from the father of lies.  Because we darn well know that it doesn’t come from Him.  His Spirit is one of joy and boldness.  And the very foundation of this wobbly prison can be smashed with the understanding that we are not preaching a religion, or a prayer, or rules.  We are speaking words of Life.  The one life.  Jesus.  What He did and what He said and what happened in the lives around Him.  Of what have I seen in my life.  It’s all about stories.  A narrative from the beginning of time until now.  And stretching into eternity.  

Let me join Peter as a witness.  Speaking simply and straightforward, obeying God rather than fearing man.  Because if it be of God, it will not be overthrown, but if it is of man, it will fail.  And I need to choose where I will be found standing.