Because you say, "I am rich and prosperous and I have need of nothing," and have not known that you are wretched and pitiable and poor and blind and naked. Rev. 3:17.
What is wrong with Laodicea? In a human sense, nothing. It has achieved what all human beings desire: comfort, ease, the alleviation of all its needs. But Laodicea is a church, and Jesus Christ has called the church to a life of self-sacrificial service. The church must leave its comfort zone and take radical risks to share the gospel with those in need. Our comfort zone, however, can be deceptively hidden even from ourselves.
Bruce Olsen tells of his efforts to take the gospel to the Motilon people in a remote part of South America. He learned to speak the language, and the people came to accept his presence. Eventually his closest Motilon friend became a Christian, but otherwise he had little response to his efforts.
One Motilon custom included marathon singing sessions in which, suspended in hammocks high above the ground, they sung out the news that each of them had heard and experienced during the previous days. During one of these festivals Olson listened as his friend, the first Motilon Christian, sang out the story of Jesus, and the story of his personal conversion. For 14 hours, while a formerly hostile neighboring chief repeated it word for word, note for note, the gospel rang out through the jungle night.
Although a positive development, the missionary himself was uncomfortable with what happened. "It seemed so heathen," he wrote. "The music, chanted in a strange minor key, sounded like witch music. It seemed to degrade the gospel. Yet when I looked back at the people around me and at the chief, swinging in his hammock, I could see they were listening as though their lives depended upon it. Bobby was giving them spiritual truth through the song."
To the missionary it sounded like witch music. Motilon music, as well as their language, had previously served false gods. Yet the missionary would not hesitate to translate the Bible into the Motilon language in spite of its pagan connotations. The gospel had to come to the Motilon people in a language they could understand.
The same was true of their music. How could God sing to the Motilon except in a musical language that communicated to them? Bach chorales and early-American folk hymns would not do the job. The missionary's Laodicean comfort zone had become an obstacle to the gospel. When it came to spiritual things he thought his way was the only right one, his favorite Christian music the only appropriate type for transmitting the gospel. Because he was unable to move past his comfort zone, God bypassed him and sang to the Motilon in their own way.
Lord, disturb my comfort zone and use me to connect with some lost person today.
What is wrong with Laodicea? In a human sense, nothing. It has achieved what all human beings desire: comfort, ease, the alleviation of all its needs. But Laodicea is a church, and Jesus Christ has called the church to a life of self-sacrificial service. The church must leave its comfort zone and take radical risks to share the gospel with those in need. Our comfort zone, however, can be deceptively hidden even from ourselves.
Bruce Olsen tells of his efforts to take the gospel to the Motilon people in a remote part of South America. He learned to speak the language, and the people came to accept his presence. Eventually his closest Motilon friend became a Christian, but otherwise he had little response to his efforts.
One Motilon custom included marathon singing sessions in which, suspended in hammocks high above the ground, they sung out the news that each of them had heard and experienced during the previous days. During one of these festivals Olson listened as his friend, the first Motilon Christian, sang out the story of Jesus, and the story of his personal conversion. For 14 hours, while a formerly hostile neighboring chief repeated it word for word, note for note, the gospel rang out through the jungle night.
Although a positive development, the missionary himself was uncomfortable with what happened. "It seemed so heathen," he wrote. "The music, chanted in a strange minor key, sounded like witch music. It seemed to degrade the gospel. Yet when I looked back at the people around me and at the chief, swinging in his hammock, I could see they were listening as though their lives depended upon it. Bobby was giving them spiritual truth through the song."
To the missionary it sounded like witch music. Motilon music, as well as their language, had previously served false gods. Yet the missionary would not hesitate to translate the Bible into the Motilon language in spite of its pagan connotations. The gospel had to come to the Motilon people in a language they could understand.
The same was true of their music. How could God sing to the Motilon except in a musical language that communicated to them? Bach chorales and early-American folk hymns would not do the job. The missionary's Laodicean comfort zone had become an obstacle to the gospel. When it came to spiritual things he thought his way was the only right one, his favorite Christian music the only appropriate type for transmitting the gospel. Because he was unable to move past his comfort zone, God bypassed him and sang to the Motilon in their own way.
Lord, disturb my comfort zone and use me to connect with some lost person today.
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