I Want To Hold The Rope:
The Mercy In Being Shamed By God
by Russ Ramsey
<email Shawn>

There is a picture of Chris Granberry, who lives on the Yakama Reservation and heads up Sacred Road Ministries, jumping rope with a girl in his arms as two women from our team stand opposite each other twirling the rope. Krista Boan captured this image, and for me, it is such a fitting picture of what the Granberry's are doing there year round, and what teams like ours are doing for a week during the summer. We are holding the rope so Chris can take the people of White Swan up in his arms and introduce them to things like hope and joy.

We hold the rope. We paint the faces. We drive in the roofing nails. We paint the houses. We break out the bubbles and sidewalk chalk. We fill the dumpsters. We pass out little bags of snacks and juice boxes. We kick the kick ball and we throw the Frisbee. We tell little Bible Stories hardly anyone seems to be listening to. And we pray.

And we do it so Chris and his family can take these people up in their arms and love them well so that they can be the hands and feet of Christ. And we do so humbly. How else could we do it? After all, who can boast in face-painting or blowing bubbles or passing out juice boxes? Who can strut around proud that they filled a dumpster or got sunburned through their hat scraping shingles?

Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 1:27 God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. Is it wise to think that bubbles and face-paint can somehow change the reputation of a neighborhood which used to be considered the roughest place to live on the reservation? Is it wise to think that nailing shingles can somehow communicate such things as magnificent as love and dignity? Is it wise to think that seven days in a place 1,750 miles away from home can make any lasting impact at all?

The thing is, God has used bubbles and sidewalk chalk to bring redemption to this little corner of the world. Totus Park, where we hosted Vacation Bible School, is no longer considered the roughest place on the Rez. For over five years now groups like ours have been holding what the people there call church on that little slab of concrete where Chris jumped rope with that girl in his arms, and the neighborhood has changed some. It isn’t perfect, but it's definitely better. Can our little group take credit for that? Can all the groups who have been coming over the years collectively take credit for that? Only if we feel like boasting in sidewalk chalk and bubbles.

For this wise man, God has been gracious to shame that part of me that wants to feel like what He needs from me is my skill and eloquence. Truth is He needs none of that. Sidewalk chalk and bubbles will do just fine. And if not my wisdom, what of my strength? I'm a landscaper by trade, and White Swan sits in a desert. I have nothing to offer of my strength. What of our strength as a group? There are hundreds of homes on the reservation. We worked on four. But when you drive around the Rez, Chris can show you over seventy homes that have been touched by groups like ours.

You cannot spend a week in White Swan without feeling small, weak and a little bit foolish to think you're making a dent. But you cannot leave without knowing that God is at work sculpting something beautiful. Rich Mullins sang "we are not as strong as we think we are." I thank God for using the people of White Swan to remind me of this. And I thank Him for the nagging conviction that He used me for something good there. And I praise Him that it is an ongoing work. And I plead with Him that it is not only an ongoing work in White Swan, but in me too. Because I rather be clever than a fool for Christ. And I'd rather showcase my strength than be shown up by bubbles and sidewalk chalk. But I need to be!

There is mercy in being shamed by God in this way. It is how He dislodges the driftwood of self-importance that dams up my ability to see beyond my own presumed wisdom and strength. There a huge world out there beyond my vision! And its bigger than me. I cannot restore it. I cannot rebuild it. I certainly cannot redeem it. But I want to see it! And I want to participate in what Christ is doing in it. I want to hold the rope!