knowing Christ

Someone remarked through the course of this evening what a difference it makes when the people who are serving the needs that you have are people you actually know.

Like a wedding, for instance.

What a difference it makes when the person who's driving the car, and the person preparing the flowers, and the person who's taking the photos, and, yes, the person conducting the worship, too - what a difference it makes when such people are people you know. And who know you, too.

Ministry (serving the needs of another) is something altogether different when you know the ones you're serving, and they know you.

The weddings we've had in the last few weeks have certainly proved that point all right - if it ever needed proved. What a wonderful difference it makes when you know the folk!

Today was the thing in reverse. Another funeral service. And apart from the grieving relative, whom I'd met for the first time last week once I'd learned of her mother's death - apart from her, I don't think I knew a single person there.

It's a strange sensation, ministering thus in a sort of relational vacuum.

Who are you? What are you? Where are you? How are you?

I'm addressing a crowd I don't know the first thing about.

Now, sure, my fall-back position is always the solid conviction that the Lord knows these people: and I may certainly trust him to give me the words which these people need to be hearing.

But even he is hampered and frustrated by the lack of real relationship. I was thinking again, as I pondered this crowd, of the words which Jesus once spoke - I never knew you.

Of course, an all-knowing God, by definition, must know everything, and therefore everyone as well. But that's 'intellectually', as it were. Not relationally.

The God who knows all things, can still declare with a pain in his heart, I never knew you.

Relationship is always what's important. It makes the world of difference. At events like a wedding or funerals, it's plain to see what a difference relationship makes.

I read from Philippians 3 and 4. Paul's plain and challenging words - my desire is to know Christ ...

What we don't sometimes see 'til it's way too late is that knowing God, and letting him know us, is what will make a whole eternity of difference for us all.

If we won't let him close, if we keep on refusing to open our hearts to the Lord - well, the great all-knowing God is forced to say those dreadful words, I never knew you.

And, if you know your Scriptures at all, you'll know the simple verdict which accompanies those words - Depart from me.

Which in a way is what happened today with the crowd who were gathered to share in that service. They just went away. There was barely a word that was spoken to me. They never really knew me: and I knew not a single one of them.

And so they just .. well, departed at the end. Understandably so.

A strange and sobering experience.