Surfers are a breed alone. To watch them racing towards the surf with a board tucked under their arm, while the temperature demanded heavy jackets or sitting at home with a hot chocolate in front of a log fire, is to recognise that there is an attraction with which I am unfamiliar.
Then there are joggers: those people who pound pavements at ungodly hours in weather conditions not unlike those described above. While it is something with which I am more familiar, I still find people pound out over 100 kilometres a week bemusing.
But what about football supporters, who trek to the game week after week, year after year, to see their team pounded into submission by the opposition?
Or refugees, who risk life and limb, and permanent incarceration, to begin a new life in Australia?
Some people march to a different drum, hearing a call to something radically different, yet life-giving. Prepared to sacrifice comforts and values which the mainstream might hold dear, they ignore the ridicule and cat-cries of others in order to pursue something which echoes from deep within.
Their simple, yet (each in their own way) radical acts, are born of an inner call, which does not rely on institution or legislation to continue. There is a love which drives each forward.
Armies march in unison. Communities in contrast seem chaotic. And those things that give life often seem ridiculous. It is more than daring to be different, it is the following of a passion, the hearing of an inner call… It doesn’t make sense to anyone but the one who pursues it.
Sounds a lot like the life and calling of Jesus.
July 20, 2003