I had to get to the subway...

Tomorrow is the kick-off for City Uprising NYC 2010. Get excited! Around 150 people have come to New York City to spend four days working to propel the church and prosper the city. This is the event that we’ve been working towards my whole time here. I cannot wait to see the huge blessings God has planned for each of us and each of the participants. Please be praying as most of them experience the city for the first time.

One of the people in the city for the first time this week is Rachel’s cousin Connor. He’s 17, from Texas, and getting all the baby jokes instead of me. Pretty good deal, on my end at least. Tonight, after we finished getting stuff ready for tomorrow morning, the three SendNYC interns took Connor to see Times Square. It really was fun, even though I’m starting to intensely dislike the crowds of that particular area!

We looked through the humongous Toys’R’Us and watched Connor nearly get killed with kids armed with Nerf weapons. Which, by the way, was the funniest thing I have seen in a long time: one 17-year-old versus nine 8-year olds. Then we walked down to the Red Stairs and turned around to take it all in.

On our way back to the subway, we ran across some people with “Free Hugs” signs. This isn’t really a rare occurrence in New York, and Connor didn’t waste much time giving the girl a hug. After he hugged the guy (so that there was “equal hugging”), I saw that Free Hug Man had on a necklace with a rather large circle painted with the colors of the rainbow. The interaction took on a much different context at that point.

You see, this weekend is Pride Weekend in New York City. The weekend focused on the promotion of the gay and lesbian lifestyle. I asked the girl if they were giving the hugs for any particular reason or organization, and she said, “No, we’re just giving free hugs to spread the love.” Obviously, this isn’t quite the point to respond with a harsh line about how I view the lifestyle this weekend is promoting. Instead, I took some time to talk with her and learn her story. She’s from Toronto, which is a place I’ve been so we talked about that. And we talked about how she’s never been to the CN Tower, even though she lives in the same city. And we joked about how Toronto was identical to NYC, minus everything that makes New York what it is. Nothing earth shattering. No track handed out. No mention of Jesus, sin, Bible, or repentance. But I do pray that she got a taste of something different. That maybe, just maybe, there was something about me that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And hopefully one day, by His grace, her eyes will be opened to what that something was. But we didn’t have time to talk for too long. I wish I knew more of her story. I wish I’d had the time to have a better conversation with her. I wish she had asked why I was in the city.

But I didn’t have time to stay. We had to get to the subway.

We continued on in hopes of someday making it to the subway station when I saw a man standing on one of the corners. Again, nothing too unusual. Except this man was holding a poster that had words along the lines of “The End is Coming, Where Will You Spend Eternity?” Luckily, he didn’t have a bullhorn: so don’t get too excited, Rob Bell fans. He wasn’t saying anything, actually. I don’t know if he was tired from earlier in the day or if he was just standing there. As we passed him, I couldn’t help wishing I were by myself so that I could have stopped to talk to him. I wish I knew his story. I wish I knew if he was promoting the same Jesus I follow. I wish I knew his experiences of being there with his sign. I wish I knew his expectations of standing on a street corner in Times Square.

But I didn’t have the time to stop. We had to get to the subway.

About a block and a half later, I started hearing a man’s voice saying something about “the sons of Israel.” Honestly, I started to think that this group was the man on the corner’s vocal chords. As we got closer, I saw a group of men in black costumes, with one reading from a book that had pages with the gold stuff on the outside. I started to think that maybe it was a group of believers telling the story of the tribes of Israel and how they led to the Messiah. I started to hope that we’d make time to stop for just a bit.

And then I was close enough to read the cover of the book from which the man was reading so passionately: the Qur’an. They were a group of Muslim men reading their version of the people in the Old Testament. Their version of the tribes of Israel. I wish we’d had time to listen. I wish I could’ve caught a glimpse into why these men have placed their hope in Muhammad and Allah and the Qur’an. I wish I were in a position to be able to have a true conversation with them. I wish I could’ve given just one of them a taste of true hope and grace.

But I didn’t have time to stop. We had to get to the subway.

Three blocks. Three different sets of people. Three times the Lord broke my heart just a little bit more for the people of this city.

These are the men and women riding the subway with me every day. These are the people I walk past on the streets on the way to work at a church office. These are the people placed in my path who are headed towards an eternal destination of pain, agony, and regret.

But I didn’t have time to stop. I had to get to the subway.

Now there was no rooster crow as I boarded the subway, but I do feel a taste of the Peter Syndrome.

We live in a society that has reached a point where we can no longer afford to be cautious with the Gospel. They can no longer afford for us to be cautious with the Gospel. I’m not advocating rude, offensive “evangelism”, but I am promoting abandoning of our pride and strict schedules. I am promoting forsaking our rigid mold of what someone should look like before they come to Christ. I am promoting taking action in those opportunities He places in our lives.

Or maybe we don’t have time to stop...maybe we have to get to the subway.