The Meaning of Life

I believe that the answer to this profound inquiry is actually quite simple. The answer lies somewhere between chess and pasta. But Will...what in the world do castling and fettucini have in common?

*What I am about to share is an 'ah ha' moment regarding my own perspective and in no way is to diminish the awesome, and Godly work of the group that I was with. Nor am I stating that any of the other volunteers had any of the perspectives that I am challenging. This is simply a sharing of an experience that will hopefully 'refresh the perspective' of the Church where it is necessary. Thank you, and enjoy!



One warm Sunday afternoon as August was winding to a close, we pulled up to the vacant parking lot that people without homes usually frequent to receive compassionate care provided by churches, non-profits, and the occasional conscious individual desiring to make a difference. However, to our dismay and overt delight, the parking lot was full of people from another ministry who were already serving the very people that we came to help. As it should be with any Christian worth their salt, we were not upset over the proverbial 'territory' we had lost nor the 'souls' we were no longer able to 'minister' to, but rather we were elated to see that the local church was actually being the Church, and we simply needed one question answered...Lord, what is our plan B?

In life, our 'Plan B' is usually God's plan A on a journey where we decided not to check in with God as frequently as we ought. When we arrive at the destination that we thought God was leading us to, we sometimes realize that the place we were headed was simply established by routine, a common consensus on what is 'good', or simply that last place God told us to go, while we completely dismiss a current check-in with our coordinates in our GPS (God's Positioning System). In other words we don't check the 'system' for updates, we are simply content that we are headed in the general direction of what we think is our target destination.

As if taken from a page of the book of 'things God does, that baffle Christians' we drove past the parking lot and convened on the side of the road to regroup. After several minutes of confusion which turned into conversation and a few bathroom breaks our fearless leader decided that it was a great opportunity to frequent a park in another part of the city that was just a few blocks over. As our modern caravan snaked through the winding streets of downtown Atlanta, we finally arrived at our next challenge for the afternoon...parking. Although seemingly as difficult as a toddler writing in legible cursive, our mixed group of northerners, southerners, californians, and midwesterners managed to parallel park on a street adjacent to the park 'Plan B'. To our joy, and subtle discomfort, the park was full of people. People to minister to, yet seemingly far from the 'homeless' people that we had prepared to sing to, preach to, and feed homemade pasta. The park was actually full of lower-middle-class African-Americans; the majority of whom were master chess players battling their wit at the cacophony of chess boards set at numerous tables at the southeast corner of the park.

I honestly felt nervous, as I was chosen to prepare a 'sermon' for the 'people on the street' which now had turned into interrupting several Sunday afternoon Chess matches for people who were seemingly 'the least of these'...at least to us. In hindsight, I realize that I was nervous in both occasions, not due to fear, but rather an overwhelming sense that God had changed 'the plan' in order that we might gain a new perspective. Namely, that we might "Refresh our Perspective" and thus my first blog post. God was refreshing our perspective on the size of His kingdom, the role of the local church, the lack of continuity between churches, our understanding of street ministry, and who we target for ministry through a tainted perspective. At this moment all I could think is, why am I out here about to preach to people as if I am assuming they don't have God because they seem to have less than we do? At this moment, the sermon I had prepared stemming from the rich young ruler seemed useless. I also watched as our group nervously scrambled to pray in a circle in front of normal people who were playing chess. We began to sing, seemingly to ourselves as I played guitar to songs speaking of God's love as we lifted melodic praises that broke the cold silence of focus and determination to win chess matches. Other than the occasional spurt of laughter and subtle intellectual discourse over current events, we were the soundtrack to the park. The question is...was it welcomed? At what point do you draw the line between worship and narcissistic privilege? Between homeless people and chess masters? Between the church and the lost? Between us...and them?

How do we make people feel when we enter their neighborhoods, their places of recreation, and their lives with a story that they may already have? To be honest, in the moment I felt embarrassed. By no means was I embarrassed of my Lord and Savior, but rather embarrassed that we had possibly brought charity to the self-sufficient. At this moment I was broken and God began to show me what I was supposed to see. People are not poor because they lack possessions, but rather poor because they lack purpose. Purpose that comes from a relationship with Christ, which comes from people who show you His love through genuine compassion rather than a place of judgment and false piety. The only thing 'these people' needed from us was love and dignity. The same dignity that was afforded them for their chess prowess, should have been rivaled by Christians who could see them through God's lens...see them as equals through God's perspective. We needed our perspective refreshed. As God refreshed my perspective he led me not to scripture, nor to my sermon notes on my cellphone, but rather toward two spoken word pieces that came out of my story....my testimony. I realized that the greatest gift I have to offer does not come from my elite academic accomplishments, nor the six instruments I play, nor charisma, but rather my personal example of God's grace intervening in my self absorbed life. Where God condescended, became less, and through a loving relationship made me greater.

This is the gospel, and this is the goal of ministry. That we might become less by laying our lives before someone else to the goal that they might reach their Godly potential sparked by a loving relationship. I shared my spoken-word on 'Anger' and three young men came up to me and began to ask me questions on how I was able to overcome such rage and violence in my late teens. All I could give them was the only salvation I had...Christ. I said that I had found my purpose in God who chose to condescend for those in a lower place, that we might be raised to a place of safety, power, and dignity. Likewise, this is my purpose and the purpose for us all. The meaning of life is that we might condescend and establish a loving relationship to the lowly, that they might have redemption and receive the gift of love and dignity. After all, this is the example we have from the very author of life itself, Jesus the Christ. After I shared my story of redemption through Christ's condescension we served hungry people a free meal. We did not feed the homeless that afternoon, but rather shared the gift of experience and a meal with our fellow man. Who would have thought that I would find the meaning of life between chess and pasta?