In the summer of 1992, I took our youth group from Hastings, Nebraska on a mission trip to Chicago. We were going to work with a women’s shelter in south Chicago, doing some repairs and fix-ups during their "shutdown time," a time when they closed the shelter to do such work. The shelter was located in the basement of a predominantly black Baptist church near the Hyde Park area of Chicago. The director of the shelter, with whom we would be working and spending lots of time, is the son of the pastor of the church. His name is Michael Humphries and Michael is a large, black man. As one of the kids on the trip reported later in our presentation to the church—"Michael and Ron are two of the biggest people I know!"

Now the significance of this story is in recognizing what the community of Hastings is like. Hastings is a city of about 24,000 people which, by Nebraska standards, makes it a mid-size city. It’s a lovely community—we really enjoyed living there—the kind of community where you don’t worry about locking your doors. It’s the kind of community where…well, when our dog, Tally Ho the Wonder Bassett Hound, would run away and get caught by the dogcatcher, the dog pound would call us and say, "We’ve got Tally Ho." Okay? It’s that kind of a community.

Which is to say, life in Hastings could be described as a bit "sheltered." One of the assignments I gave our kids before we took off for Chicago was to watch the news on WGN out of Chicago, then watch the news on the local station in Hastings. Dramatic differences!

Another part of the sheltered aspect of Hastings is there are not a lot of minorities in the area. Thus, our mission trip—where we would live in the basement of a black Baptist church, work with a large black man all week, and be exposed to the multicultural lifestyle and issues in a city like Chicago—was very much a new experience for our youth. To top it off, our trip in early June came less than two months after the Rodney King riots in Los Angeles. We actually had a couple of families who would not let their kids go on the trip because of that combination—predominantly black neighborhood in Chicago and the after affects of Rodney King. Without question, this was a new experience for these kids.

And we had a great time! Working in the shelter, being led by Michael through different parts of Chicago, and discussing with Michael the issues of poverty and race in Chicago were eye-opening experiences for our youth. Michael was terrific! He was funny, he was challenging, he was loving and caring to our group. Our kids loved Michael.

When we returned to Hastings, we had a "debriefing" meeting to discuss the trip. One of the things I asked the kids to do involved some imaginative reflection. "Imagine yourself before the trip," I said, "and you are walking in downtown Hastings and you see Michael walking toward you. Only, of course, you don’t know that it is Michael because you haven’t been on the trip yet! All you know is that there is a large black man walking toward you in downtown Hastings. What is going through your mind?" And the youth really got into it. "I’m crossing over to the other side of the street," one of them said. "I’m afraid," said another. "I’m wondering who this guy is and what’s he doing in Hastings," said another. "Ok," I said. "Now, imagine the same scenario, only it is today. You’ve been on the trip to Chicago. Now, you’re walking downtown and you see Michael walking toward you. What’s your reaction?" "I’d run up and give him a big hug," said one. "I’d ask him what he was doing in Hastings, but not out of fear. And I’d ask him if he had a place to stay, or would he like to stay at my house," said another. Everyone nodded their head in agreement. "Why the different reactions," I asked. They practically shouted in unison, "Duh, because we know Michael!" "And what have you learned from that," I asked. There followed a lengthy, good discussion about our presuppositions and fears, our biases and ignorance based on a lack of knowledge, a lack of connection with another person. I emphasized with them, that the point of our little exercise was not to run up and hug strangers and invite them to our homes! Rather, the point was to appropriately seek to know others, to get inside who they really are before we label or judge them.

I think that is something like what Paul is calling us to do today. At first glance, Paul’s words of "I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some," sounds phony, manipulative. But, I don’t believe that is what Paul is asking us to be. Rather, Paul is calling us to understand other people, what makes them tick, to come alongside others and know their highest hopes and deepest despair in order that we might effectively share the good news of the gospel with them. Elsewhere, Paul would put it this way, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn," (Romans 12:15). Paul’s style for reaching out to others with the good news was to get to know them, then present the good news in a way they would understand. For example, when he spoke to Jews at synagogues he would emphasize Jewish scriptures and their fulfillment in Jesus Christ. But, when he spoke to Greeks in Athens, he did not cite Jewish scriptures which have little to do with where Athenians were at. Rather, he commented on their own cultural memorial of an inscription to "an unknown god," by saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, "I know this God. He is the creator of the world, and he has sent his Son to offer us redemption," (see Acts 17:16-34). In both instances, some scoffed and some became believers. But, Paul’s approach to them was based on what he knew about them. He had become like a Jew to some, and like an Athenian to others so that he might win some to the gospel. Paul’s "rule for life" in this portion of his letter to the Corinthians is to strive for empathy, to identify with others so that we might, with integrity and sincerity, offer the good news of the gospel to another.

There are, in this rule for life, several challenges for us.

To begin with, there is the challenge of answering the question, "What is the worth of the gospel to me?" Assuming we were to come alongside another person and achieve success in truly and sincerely empathizing with them, what, then, would we say to them? How would we articulate what the gospel means in our lives? Equally importantly, how would our lives reflect the value of the gospel for us? Without that, we obviously cannot express to another person the worth of the gospel. Additionally, we would have no motivation for coming alongside someone who might be different from us and difficult to empathize with because it is the gospel that compels us to do so. If the gospel has little meaning for our lives there is little motivation to do the work of empathy with another. So, the first challenge is to reflect upon the value of the gospel for our own lives. We must be clear about that ourselves if we are to be clear with others.

Then there is the challenge of seeing others in the way God sees them. Taking off the blinders of our own biases, the impediments of our presuppositions and prejudices, are we able to see others with the kind of compassion, care and love with which God sees them? Only then are we able to move toward identifying with others. Mother Teresa, trying to answer the question of how she could do the work she was doing, put it this way, "First, meditate upon Jesus, then go out and find Him in disguise."

Can we look for Jesus in people like this, for instance? (Picture of Indian woman) Rather than assumptions about her life—what her faith is, what her concerning issues are—might we be able to look for Jesus in her, to look upon her in the way that God looks at her, and offer her the sincere love and care that God would offer? Or, perhaps this person (Picture of street person). Can we look at him and, rather than jump to conclusions based on our own presuppositions, come alongside him to know what his concerns and fears are that we might respond for the sake of the gospel in a meaningful way? Or, how about this group (Picture of Bikers)? Perhaps our first thought is fear…keeping our distance. Kim and I have friends who a few years ago bought two Harley Davidson motorcycles and began riding to some of these huge biker rallies—the famous Sturgis rally is coming up in a couple of weeks and they’ll be there. They have come to know and love groups that look like this. They’ve participated in worship services with people who look like this. Their first reaction to a picture like this, or a group like this has changed—because they’ve come alongside them and can see Jesus in disguise in them. Or, how about this guy (Picture of Tattooed man)? Can we work past our prejudices? I wouldn’t do that to my body and don’t understand why anyone would! But, could I come to some understanding, with his help, by coming alongside him and getting to know what makes him tick? You’ve got to love his sense of humor, at least. Notice the saying on his T-shirt. "I hate piercings." Can we see such people and look at them, not with the eyes of our presuppositions and prejudices, but with the eyes of God? Can we look for Jesus…in disguise?

Then, finally, there is that challenge of coming alongside such people to achieve empathy with them. I’m not suggesting, and Paul is not suggesting, that I must tattoo my body in order to come alongside this guy. Indeed, Paul says, "To those not having the law I became like one not having the law," then adds this parenthetical comment, "(though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law)," (1 Cor 9:21a). Paul is not asking us to give up our identities. But, then, neither is he asking for others to give up theirs. The gospel is for those without tattoos and for those with them. Paul wants us to find our common identity in Christ. However, in order to effectively do that, we must come alongside someone and truly empathize with them.

It is the example of the Moccasin Walk. We have a ministry in our church called Moccasin Walk. It gets its name from the Sioux Indian prayer, "Oh Great Spirit, grant me the wisdom to walk in another’s moccasins before I criticize or pass judgment." Paul’s "becoming all things to all people" is not phoniness, but an attempt at empathy—to walk in another person’s shoes, to know as much as we can about their highest hopes and deepest sorrows, their greatest joy and their greatest fear.

So, surprise yourself. Surprise another person, perhaps through a mission experience—that’s part of the purpose of missions, to put us in experiences with people very different from us. Perhaps it might be a family member, someone with whom some distance has come between you because of differences in how we express ourselves, and a pleasant surprise would be for you to seek to come alongside them and truly understand them, looking for Jesus in disguise, seeing them in the same way God sees them. Do so, knowing that the gospel is worth it!

My friend and colleague in Amarillo, Howard Childers, liked to tell this story about one of the churches he served. This took place during the difficult times in the early 70’s of challenging authority and social upheaval. The church began an outreach effort with college students and young people in their area. The effort was building some momentum and proving successful, but was also making many in the church uncomfortable. Beginning to mix in with the "coat and tie" and "pretty dress" crowd on Sunday mornings were young people in cut-off jean shorts and t-shirts. Howard fielded many complaints about it, and the session discussed it at several points, but determined to stick with the goal of reaching out to these young people. Things came to a head one Sunday, when the sanctuary began to fill. Just before the service began and the sanctuary was packed, a young man—in cut-off jeans, t-shirt and sandals—walked in, looked around and proceeded to walk to the front of the sanctuary and…sit on the floor! A gasp, then the sound of whispered, agitated chatter began to buzz around the sanctuary. Until a hush fell over the sanctuary when one of the most respected members of the church stood up in his Sunday’s best suit and began to walk toward the young man. Think a "Bill Hays type of person here." Every eye was on this man as he walked up to where this insolent young man was sitting on the floor. What was he going to do? Ears strained to hear what he was going to say. When he got to the young man, this coat and tie respected member of the church proceeded to sit down next to the young man and wait with him for the service to start. The two of them sat there together through the entire service. That act totally changed that church. It’s the kind of thing Bill Hays would do. And, it’s the kind of thing about a "Bill Hays type" that earns our respect and admiration. It’s also the kind of thing Paul would do…and would encourage us to do…for the sake of the gospel.

The gospel is worth that kind of effort! Knowing the value of the gospel in your life is a worthwhile endeavor. Praying for the ability to see others as God sees them—and intentionally putting that effort into practice—is attempting something worthy of the gospel. And coming alongside someone who may be very different from us, but coming alongside them so that we might truly identify with them, truly empathize with them in order to meaningfully share with them the good news of the gospel is a worthy goal for our lives. It is part of the rules for life Paul gives us that make up the great adventure of a life with Christ. "I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some."