I want to find huge shark teeth when I go shark tooth hunting. I’m not out there searching for teeth so small I could fit ten of them on top of a Quarter. I want to find a Mako or a Great White that fills up the palm of my hand and has weight to it. People who say finding tiny little shark teeth is just as satisfying as finding big ones may not be lying, but I don’t think they’re saying the whole truth. If they walked up on a Megalodon you’d hear them singing a different song. But they (we) do get satisfaction from finding tiny shark teeth. It is a different feeling. When I comb the beach walking at my normal pace and letting my eyes search almost on autopilot, finding shark teeth that are teeny tiny makes me feel like I am the master of this beach. It makes me feel like if there is any shark tooth on this beach it can’t elude me. I will find it. How can I doubt this when I walked along at full stride and picked a shark tooth barely bigger than 20 grains of sand out of moving water? It is magical. I’m not even sure how I do it. It must be Spidey-sense. Spidey shark tooth sense. Whatever it is, picking that tooth out of the surf is satisfying because I’m sure I haven’t missed anything big. If my methods work to find this tooth then I’m not missing other things.
Usually the tiny teeth end up at the bottom of a jar, not in a display case, but there’s no doubt in my mind there are plenty of days I would have quit hunting before finding a display case tooth if I hadn’t found one of these little things and renewed my belief that I could find another tooth. It’s the little things that matter. It’s the little things we do that accumulate in our hearts that add up to confidence to go on when nothing significant seems to be happening. The tiny hints of the presence of the Holy are just as full in their ways as the monumental Red Sea splitting displays of power. I want to walk my life pathway with the expectation of finding Jesus in the moving water.
Being brought up in “Christian” Germany with churches everywhere, I always felt that there must be something exciting about the community that Jesus started in the New Testament—but somehow I could never discover what that was.” – Wolfgang Simson, The House Church Book
There is a battle for the heart of any church. The church exists for the mission. It is born within an apostolic context; born on it’s feet moving out into the world with the message of Christ.
It isn’t a place to find security for your children.
It isn’t here to lend legitimacy to your social status.
It doesn’t exist to bless your marriage or to mourn over your death.
It is not here to educate you into a deeper spirituality.
It isn’t designed to be your support group.
It isn’t your holy hideout.
The church does not exist to enrich the lives of Christians, the church exists to enrich the life of the world.
Evidently police don’t like being video taped while doing their jobs. This story out of Lancaster, PA is just one of many I’ve seen in the past few years. I get it. I don’t particularly like the idea of being video taped while I’m doing my job. How hard would it be to account for every moment? Every act? I know some Christians think it is somehow useful to think of themselves as being watched by God at all times so they will behave or not misbehave or whatever. I’m not sure I want to live that way. I’d rather think about God watching my like I watch my children playing. After all the gospel is the end of the law for those who believe. I’m not trying to draw within the lines so that God keeps smiling am I? I want to play like a guy that God showed his full love towards on the cross. He is pleased with me. Go ahead and video me. Its all good.