Underneath it all...

Bear with me a bit on this blog… Please…

I like funky socks and skivvies. I’ve had some pretty fun boxers over the years. I just bought some striped socks here during the “Rebaixes”—basically BIG discount sales—here in Barcelona. I really like them. I’m wearing a pair now.

I’ve always really liked exciting/different/dare-I-say-scandalous underwear (i.e. socks, boxers, briefs, undershirts, etc.). For me, it’s fun to wear around, talk to people, smirk a little and think, “Oh, if only you knew…” Maybe it’s because of this, and the age-old advice to “picture ‘em in their underwear”, but I often wonder what other folks are wearing, if we’re wearing the same thing even. What’s going on underneath it all?

And it makes me reflect on the other “unseen” things that we carry around. What’s really, REALLY going on underneath it all. That’s a nice jacket, but what are the socks like? Those are some sweet pants; are the boxers up to par? That’s a great speech, but what are you really, REALLY after? That’s a pretty face you put on; is your soul done up like that too?

I’d never had coffee with a prostitute before either. I did not know her at the time, but Monica stop me and asked if I’d treat her to a coffee. I said sure, and we began to talk.

“What’s your name?”… “Monica.”

“How’s your day going?”… “Terrible. Not a lot of work today…”

(Quizzical expression) “Ah, what is it that you do?”… “I’m a prostitute.”

“Oh, huh… So it’s not going too well today?”… “No, not for a while.”

“Wow, for how long has it not been good?”… “About a year or two.”

“Huh… How long have you been in the business?”… “Fifteen years.”

“Wow! That’s a while!”… “Yeah, I’ve seen a lot.”

“I’ll bet… I’m sorry, how old are you?”… “I’m 59.”

“Huh, you don’t look it.”… “Thank you…” And the conversation went from there.

Monica, it turns out, doesn’t trust anyone. She doesn’t trust the Spanish, the French, and definitely not anyone from any other country (especially the States). As I talked with her and listened, she opened up a bit, told me about her life, and the economics of going from the Peseta (the previous Spanish currency) to the Euro, and how that was things really started rough for her. I listened and thought, “Man, she looks just like any other lady on the street, not quite like a prostitute, though I see it now. She’s my neighbor!” We talked more, and I had to run and catch some other friends. I hope to see her again and talk some more.

Ignacio is a homeless guy. When I met him, it was in the soup kitchen I help out at. Long, ratty hair, dirty clothes, half the teeth he should have, scraggily beard, etc. But I noticed he had a guitar with him. Apparently he liked to play hard rock and blues on his Spanish guitar. Great! Then I heard him speaking to the pastor in German, and I thought, “Wow, Spanish and German. Not bad.” Then he turns to me and in English asks, “Where are you from, man?”

“Texas, in the U.S.,” I say. Turns out, Ignacio had lived all over western Europe, speaks about five languages, plays guitar, works from time to time, and likes to read Plato. Having seen him on the street and in the soup kitchen, I never would have thought any other that about him. I might have thought he’s just a lazy, dirty homeless guy at best.

What’s going on underneath it all?

I’m reading a book called “The Organic Church: Growing Faith Where Life Happens”. It’s been pretty encouraging with the church plant here. I’ve never been in a church where there weren’t other leaders. Right now, yes we have a core group, but none feel they are ready to do anything. There’s just Fabio and me right now that feel like we know what’s going on. In line with the book, I’ve begun to think more and more about Jesus’ disciples, when he chose them. All were very unqualified, and definitely not strong leaders until after the resurrection and Pentecost. Jesus went through one to three years, spending time with these twelve guys, pouring tons of time into them, explaining things to them he didn’t to others, and even one of them turned him in to the authorities. Fabulous!

What did Jesus see underneath it all? Maybe the hope and the future. Maybe normal people that He was going to use extraordinarily. Maybe he saw servant-hearted people. I don’t know, but He picked them. Nara and Giuseppe keep asking me and Fabio, “Why us? We’re no one special.” I tell them, “That’s why, and a bunch of other reasons. You served before you were leaders. You opened your home to us before you were leaders. You asked to help before you were leaders. And more.” And when I say leaders, I don’t mean people with power, people with it all together. I mean people who at times are nothing more than completely committed to seeing the Kingdom grow.

Please pray for Nara and Giuseppe. They’re very precious to me and to us.

What’s going on underneath it all in our group? In my neighborhood? In Barcelona, Catalunya, Spain, Europe, Earth Universe?... Where is God working? Where can I go to partner with him and really make it “earth as it is in heaven”? How can Jesus be known here? Who has holes in there socks and needs some fresh ones. I do/did. Do you?

Grace and Peace,
Nate