I’m not sure why, but lately I’ve been thinking of an old acquaintance of mine.  His name was Meatball.  I don’t even know his real name, but everyone called him Meatball so in my mind that’s what his name will forever be.

I met him, of all places, at the Southern Baptist Church I grew up going to.  This church was what some might call a mega-church.  It had a few thousand members, a family life center, a school, and many, many services.  I really became a follower of Christ when I started attending this church as a young teen.  I also spent a number of years like Jonah fleeing from God while still attending this church…funny how that works.

Anyway, during (what I call) my "black" period (when I was 16 or 17 and wearing a lot of black clothing and listen to the Cure exclusively…) I often found myself hiding out in the balcony of this gargantuan sanctuary during the services.  My parents (for good reason) wanted me to be involved in church and so they expected me to be at the service with them…but I didn’t have to sit with them.  So I would sit in the nose-bleed section and doze off OR, if I could smuggle a good book in, read.  During this time I probably first noticed Meatball up in the balcony.

Meatball, unlike me, was at church of his own volition it seemed.  His presence at this church was strange, to say the least.  Here’s why:  Meatball was a huge tatooed guy in a conservative suit-and-tie wearing baptist church! 

If you could see him, you would understand the dissonance his presence created.  In terms of his shape, Meatball was an appropriate monniker.  I am terrible at this, but I’d say he weighed close to 300 pounds and wasn’t very tall.  He was round, some might say squat.  He had raven dark hair, always some form of goatee or soul patch, and dragon-like tattoos trailing up his forearms.  He took up a third of the pew without even sprawling.  In this setting, Meatball was completely unique.  At a Harley Davidson convention he would have been considered a bit of a plain Jane.  Whenever I saw Meatball in the balcony of the church he was usually with a couple other guys.  These guys weren’t heavy metal types like Meatball.  Instead they looked like they had just stepped off the set of the TV show Dallas.  I’m not saying they fit the church’s stereotypical demographic, but cowboy types were more common in the church than headbangers.  These types of cliques typically form out of necessity in such an environment.

Anyway, I didn’t meet Meatball right away.  In fact, I didn’t really meet him until much later.  After some time, I had my "belly of the big fish experiences" and found myself actually listening in church again.  At that time I started socializing a bit and was trying to get my head around my new-found faith.  Because I found like a round peg in a square hole in this environment I was looking for a community within the larger Borg.  Through a friend I finally met Meatball and we would talk about the latest Christian "hardcore" "industrial" and "alternative" music groups out there.  Our encounters were brief, usually isolated to that period of socializing after the service was over but before everyone runs off to restaurants for lunch.

I guess the one thing that I remember about this guy named Meatball was his boldness in proclaiming his faith.  Coming out of the environment he had, he still had a heart for people who lived within his pre-Christ lifestyle (loud music, tattoos, the macabre, etc.)  One time he told me a story about an encounter he had at a record store.  In the store Meatball recognized the lead singer of a professed "Satanic" heavy metal group.  I think they were called Deicide or something along those lines.  So, Meatball goes up to this guy and he says something like, "Hey, So-and-So, what’s up?  I just want you to know that you’d better repent and turn your life to Christ or your gonna burn!  You think you have power now, but you’re going to be surprised on judgment day…"

Now this is not really a direct quote, but that’s essentially what he said to him.  Now, I know that Meatball’s method was probably a bit counter-productive (I’m not going to judge him even though I may disagree with this approach and theology) but what impressed me was his willing to confront this guy.  It would have been a lot easier for Meatball to just keep browsing through CDs and ignore the guy altogether.  But that wasn’t Meatball’s modus operandi. I also think that contextualization of the gospel message is interesting when looking at this situation.  In some sects of society, a harsh word is the only type that communicates.  I’m not advocating a hellfire-and-brimstone apologetic, but what if hellfire and brimstone is the linqua franca of that culture?  It may not be as extreme or faux pas as it may at first appear. I don’t know.

I also don’t know if this Satanist turned his life over to the Lord on the spot.  Probably didn’t.  But Meatball’s testimony to him has always stuck with me over the years. It also challenged me to think about how much I really love people?  Am I willing to tell them the truth in love?  Am I willing to confront someone for the cause of Christ?  Am I willing to learn to speak someone’s language / dialect to get my message across?  The gospel should be lived out daily, sometimes we may even be required to communicate it in words.  I want to care for the lost and weep over them the way that Jesus did.  I want to have boldness like my friend Meatball displayed with his life.

When you "publish your results" with universal intent (i.e. share the gospel in word and deed) you are bound to make mistakes (open mouth, insert foot) but how else can we do what Jesus said to do?  How else will people hear and know the truth unless we take some risks and put it forth.

I’d love to see my friend Meatball again–this side of heaven.  It likely will not happen, but at least I have the honor of having met him and of knowing that we are caught up in this great "cloud of witnesses" together.  We are journeying the same road…and that feels good.