Two Minutes to Make a World of Difference

She stood in front of the bright lights of late night television. She was quite a sight in her bulky black boots that laced up her legs. She looked into the eyes of the live studio audience and the eyes she knew were watching on TVs in homes across the nation. Over there was the late night talk show host, who was up for jokes and celebrities, and she was neither. She stood still and spoke succinctly and sincerely, knowing that she only had two minutes, two minutes to make an impression, two minutes to get her message across, two minutes to make a world of difference.
She said that she had heard of men and women working the earth in countries where past wars and current civil strife had left landmines scattered and hidden, landmines waiting in deadly silence and mystery for years for unsuspecting people to touch them, resulting in lost feet and hands and lives. She said she had invented landmine resistant boots, handmade boots with thick soles of leather and metal to deflect the blast. She said the boots were field-tested, battle-tested, effective and expensive. She said the shepherds and tillers of the soil and their loved ones would surely benefit; however the cost of the boots was prohibitive. She said she had a website and then she named it, saying that you can give $10 or $100 or more to help purchase pairs of landmine resistant boots for our international neighbors who needed them yet could not afford what would save their lives and feet.
That’s it. Her two minutes were up, and the talk show host was back, cracking jokes and announcing the special celebrity guest.
My Lord and my God! She had two minutes to make a world of difference, and sometimes that’s all we get, and she used every second to drive home her passion, her creativity and resourcefulness, her love for humanity, her hope that there were others, thousands and millions of others who cared and wanted to make a world of difference as well.
As a matter of fact, I did not see her on television. I did not witness her passion and drive and hope for humanity. I heard her story second hand, and now you are receiving it third hand. Someone told me her story who had seen it on late night TV. So I researched it and found that it is all true, and now here I am telling you her story, all worked up because someone wants to make a world of difference and is inviting us to join in and get on board.
Some of us were blessed to hear the Rev. Dr. Holly McKissick speak in 2011 at the General Assembly of the Christian Church in Nashville. Holly McKissick is the pastor of Peace Christian Church in Kansas City. She spoke about what our neighbors are looking for in a spiritual faith community. When our neighbors are asked what they want, what they say is us.
“In survey after survey, what people say they want is this,” she said, gesturing to the over 5,000 Disciples of Christ in the audience. “It’s us.” Holly pointed out that we as a denomination are poised for growth because we embody exactly what people are longing and searching for even if they don’t really know it or can’t articulate it. The frustrating part is that few people know who we are or what we are about. She shared about when she first started in pastoral ministry over 25 years ago, she wished that our church leaders would hire a slick advertising company that would rebrand us into something new, novel, sexy or sleek. (As a matter of fact, we have had the same conversation here as well.) Now, McKissick says, she realizes that’s not the answer. Now she’d settle for an elevator speech.
An elevator speech is a couple of tight, well-crafted sentences which say who we are, succinctly, sincerely, with passion and joy. Every Disciple of Christ needs an elevator speech. All you have to do (don’t you love that expression) — all you have to do is practice. The next time someone says to you, “Hey, your church seems to be really important to you. What kind is it? I’ve never heard of it,” be ready to say something like: “Well, we aren’t really all that well known because we aren’t like some of those faith traditions who think they have all the answers. We know the world is not black and white; we know it is rich and filled with color and varied and filled with hungry kids and flooded towns, and we are just the kind of church that likes to roll up our sleeves and seek to be a sign of God’s healing and hope!”
Or you might tell a story about our practice of hospitality, healing grace, and hands-on missions.
Or you could offer that at First Christian Church of Decatur, “even I am welcomed!”
Holly McKissick pointed out that unchurched people want a spiritual faith community yet are not interested in churches that “are all hung up on gays or straight, black or white,” but rather seek congregations that celebrate the range of God’s creation and help each other through the difficult complexities of life. She said that many of our unchurched neighbors say, “If I could find a church that isn’t trying to own Jesus, but simply follow him, I would go.” What they mean is that they dream of a sacred place, a safe place, a spiritual home and community where they could go with their questions and doubts and still be accepted, like us. If only they could find a church that instead of trying to divide the world was finding ways to live together, like us. If only they could unearth a church that wasn’t trying to own Jesus but simply follow him, like us. If they could find a church like that, they would go.
We are a church like that; you know and feel this because you and I are living out such a faith experience. We have discovered it firsthand. So take two minutes and share your discovery. Share your story succinctly and sincerely.
The point of telling faith stories is not only so the Body of Christ will grow. Holly McKissick reminds us that, “It wasn’t about this denomination for our founders and it sure shouldn’t be for us.” The point is about helping the homeless and hungry just outside our sanctuary and along the city streets. The point is giving another soul, another family, another home the same gifts of God that you have: the gifts of hope, healing and hospitality.
The end of the story is the lame walking and blind seeing and thirsty drinking. “And how will they know it unless we tell?”
As always, First Christian Church of Decatur, I am delighted to be your pastor. Shalom, James L. Brewer-Calvert