Thick as a Brick

Certain events in life are hard to forget. They leave an indelible mark, sometimes figuratively and sometimes literally. I have one such literal mark near my right eye. It is a reminder of the time I was hit with a large rock as I was walking in a park across the street from my home. I was about six years old, minding my own business, when the aforementioned rock smashed into the side of my head. My instinctive reaction was to try and dull the searing pain with my coat sleeve. It worked until I let my arm down and noticed my sleeve soaked in blood. The pain came back, joined by fear. As I began to run toward home, I noticed two boys behind a pile of dirt throwing large rocks at passers-by. It seemed like they were proud that they hit their target. I can still see them laughing, though like the scar, that image is fading.When I made it home, I realized that my mom and dad were out for the evening, so I was in the care of my grandmother and two of her sisters. The three of them worked on me like they were top corner men for a prizefighter. They had me patched up and ready for more action in no time. The action did not involve going back to the park for round two. It was more like eating a large bowl of popcorn and drinking a large cold glass of soda in front of the television. I don’t remember what was on the T.V. that evening. All that mattered to me was that I was healing in the company of people that loved me.Some thirty years later, I was walking with Roxanne in a plaza near the Alamo. We were minding our own business when I noticed a man standing off to the side of the plaza throwing bricks at the passers-by. They weren’t literal bricks; they were figurative bricks, but it was as troubling to me as if they were real. In fact, it might have been more troubling to me. Why?The man throwing the bricks was a Christian. I knew this because of what he was yelling. The “bricks” were actually God’s words. I recognized them as words from the Bible. He screamed at all of us in the plaza; He told us that we were all sinners and we were going to hell. We needed to repent and accept Jesus as our Savior. I was familiar with the words he was yelling, because I was already a Christian and knew them from my Bible studies. Best I could tell, that guy had a gift for memorizing the scriptures, and it seemed to me that he was proud of it. It almost seemed like he was laughing. Just like the rock incident when I was younger, I felt like I had been smashed in the side of the head. I wondered how many other people felt the same way. More specifically, I wondered how many people ran away from God in fear that day. That man’s yelling and screaming seemed more like an invitation to a house of pain, anger, and wrath instead of a house of healing and love.The Holy Spirit did not give me words to speak to him, or to shout to others that day, but the Spirit did point me to scripture that has stayed with me and, hopefully changed me since. It is 1Corinthians 13:1-8. These words are often read at weddings, but they are also appropriate for when we are in the park or in a plaza, or anywhere for that matter. In short, these verses are a call for us to use our spiritual gifts in love. They are a reminder for us to speak God’s power-filled words with love for others.I realized that day in San Antonio that the Bible was about as thick as a brick, but it isn’t one. If I hurl it around like a brick, I will more than likely just smash someone in the head, and more than likely cause someone to run away from God instead of running home to Him.I want to speak God’s words in such a way that those who hear them will find themselves being healed by God in the company of people who love them. I hope you do too.Grace to you.Dave Paukner