How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" -Romans 10:14-15

We buried my father this past week...in a driving, pouring rain...amidst a forest of headstones with names well-known to me. The sadness of a cemetery filled with classmates, friends and family members-many younger than me-was only slightly mitigated by the knowledge some of them were with Jesus. Trudging from my father's pick-up truck to stand as we read words over his casket, I felt as if I were once again the Stage Manager in Thornton Wilder's classic play "Our Town." In fact, some of those who shared the stage with me in our high school production were buried right there; and I felt at times as if they were whispering to each other the words of the graveyard scene in Wilder's incredibly timeless play.

Dinner after the burial was a bit brighter, held in Mosby's City Hall, which when I was a boy was a one-room, eight-class schoolhouse. There, old friends and distant cousins regaled us with their memories of my father, while also trying to grasp the changes in this old man before them (me), whom most had last seen forty years ago.

Learning I was a chaplain, some of those who greeted us at visitation and after the funeral began to speak of their own losses, and the loneliness they felt at being left behind, at having lived longer than their friends and loved ones. They weren't being insensitive, nor were they seeking pity; they just found a moment in the shared intimacy of loss to open up to someone. Despite the blessings and advantages of round-the-clock electronic contact, in nearly every instance the lonely and the hurting spoke of technology as being without any hint of humanity; a way to transmit messages without the passion present in face-to-face encounters.

Perhaps because of the reason for my travel, I found the airports and airplanes to be in roughly the same category as the cemetery. With dreadful stock-market news blaring in every corner, interrupted only by Homeland Security's taped reminders, the faces in the seats resembled the cemetery scene in "Our Town" where the dead conversed in monotones, observing the emotions of the grieving with a dispassionate demeanor and saying in various ways..."the living just don't understand what's behind the curtain of death."

Wilder got it right, of course: The living generally don't understand what lies behind the veil of death, in part because we Christians are feeling what they're feeling instead of the grace, the freedom and the certainty of eternity that is ours to experience and to share.

"What the world needs," to quote a well-known song from the '60s, "is love"; genuine, unconditional love as expressed by Christ to the redeemed. We who are redeemed are then charged by Him to share this good news with others, and it is this "punch of compassion" with which we're to always lead. When Jesus rebuked Peter in the Garden for whacking off Malchus' ear, He was telling us all through the ages that as His ambassadors we're to lead with love; and that when we leave this place, it is expected that others will write our epitaph in such a way that it says "...and we note that even his enemies saw God's love in and through him."

Loud arguments don't win hearts; neither do stern lectures steeped in righteous anger, or forced obedience that smacks of bullying more than compassion. Sad faces and "woe is me" tales also shift attention from Jesus back to us, reinforcing the narcissism that's chewing up hope already. With so many things to distract us, very few people in the world will find themselves in churches or dialing in Christian radio long enough to meet Jesus or even hear His story. That means, more than at any point in history, we who are redeemed carry a bigger burden than ever for introducing people to the great love of God, which leads many to the discovery of their need for Christ.

We must sheath our swords, take down our fences and open both our hearts and wallets to the audience in need God places around us. Our rights may get trampled in the process; and we may suffer great angst as we force back natural anger prompted by intentional (and even accidental) attacks on our faith. But it is God who is the defender of truth; the righter of wrongs, and the ultimate judge-not us. Those roles are stripped from us to leave us free to be ambassadors of mercy; rescue workers digging through the rubble of broken lives and broken worlds to get the beleaguered to know God as a God of love before they must face Him as God the Avenger and Judge.

Let us therefore each renew our hearts, bathing them in the memories of the moments when God's love broke into the story of our lives. May we draw back the curtains of our human frailty in humble, vulnerable ways, letting others see that if Christ can love (insert your name here), then he most certainly can love those watching us.

If you declare with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved. As Scripture says, "Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame." For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile-the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." --Romans 10: 9-13

We invite comments or questions; please see below: