Color-Man, 26 June, on a night in Athens
Sex today is a great abuse. God's original will for it was an ingeneous creation. It was made for our good in so many ways, but from the very beginning we perverted it and it began to decay. We see this everywhere. The big cities teem with lustful ads and magazines. It's a tragic loss in theory, and even more painful in real life.
A few days ago, in Athens, Sam and I saw this decay in a new way. It's taken me a few days to figure out how to write about it. We'd been looking for Christian fellowship in Europe, and found it in a ministry called "Nea Zoi" (New Life). It's a street ministry for the prostitutes and transvestites of downtown Athens. From Nea Zoi, groups go out three nights a week to serve tea and speak with the prostitutes. They invited us to worship at 11 at night, and we accepted. Worship was simple. There were twelve of us, and the prayer and praise was powerful. We finished in strength an hour later. Then, they told us that we'd be going out on the streets. Seven of us split off to the female prostitute rings, outside slummy hotels in the red light district.
Walking down the streets, all was dark and heavy. An oppressive techno throb came from some upper windows. Our friend Jim from England held us on one side of the street as our girls crossed over to the first hotel. Prostitutes leaned out of dark doorways and over benches, enticing male customers on mopeds. The women were mostly Nigerians, slaves to a pimp who paid for them and keeps them at work. They looked up happily as the ladies approached. Jennifer from Nea Zoi told us that they'd begun to form fruitful relationships already. The girls on the streets seem to look forward to the distraction. They've even escaped on occasion to worship with Nea Zoi. But they are chained to their work.
We men stood on the other side of the street, praying over the situation and making sure no one bothered our girls. It was hard not to hate all the people involved. The darkness was scary. But as we prayed, I realized that my hatred was misdirected. It was particularly to such people that Jesus came--to the sick, not the healthy. It was his joy to come to the slums and trash, to love the woman at the well and the guilty prostitute. If our Lord would do this, can we shirk them?
I'm convicted of how I avoid sinners in search of my own comfort. Our God is the God of the straight way and the narrow gate. That means living like Jesus, among the poor and sick and sinful and even perverted. He calls us to His sort of life.
Drew
A few days ago, in Athens, Sam and I saw this decay in a new way. It's taken me a few days to figure out how to write about it. We'd been looking for Christian fellowship in Europe, and found it in a ministry called "Nea Zoi" (New Life). It's a street ministry for the prostitutes and transvestites of downtown Athens. From Nea Zoi, groups go out three nights a week to serve tea and speak with the prostitutes. They invited us to worship at 11 at night, and we accepted. Worship was simple. There were twelve of us, and the prayer and praise was powerful. We finished in strength an hour later. Then, they told us that we'd be going out on the streets. Seven of us split off to the female prostitute rings, outside slummy hotels in the red light district.
Walking down the streets, all was dark and heavy. An oppressive techno throb came from some upper windows. Our friend Jim from England held us on one side of the street as our girls crossed over to the first hotel. Prostitutes leaned out of dark doorways and over benches, enticing male customers on mopeds. The women were mostly Nigerians, slaves to a pimp who paid for them and keeps them at work. They looked up happily as the ladies approached. Jennifer from Nea Zoi told us that they'd begun to form fruitful relationships already. The girls on the streets seem to look forward to the distraction. They've even escaped on occasion to worship with Nea Zoi. But they are chained to their work.
We men stood on the other side of the street, praying over the situation and making sure no one bothered our girls. It was hard not to hate all the people involved. The darkness was scary. But as we prayed, I realized that my hatred was misdirected. It was particularly to such people that Jesus came--to the sick, not the healthy. It was his joy to come to the slums and trash, to love the woman at the well and the guilty prostitute. If our Lord would do this, can we shirk them?
I'm convicted of how I avoid sinners in search of my own comfort. Our God is the God of the straight way and the narrow gate. That means living like Jesus, among the poor and sick and sinful and even perverted. He calls us to His sort of life.
Drew
posted by Unknown at 4:18 AM
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