Un-Quarantine

Sin is a disease. There is no greater threat to the health and wholeness of the human race than the infiltration of sin that has permeated earth and oozed from the pores of humans since nearly the beginning of time. There are sins of action and sins of inaction. If there was a single concentrated phrase to sum up what it is, it would be any thing that is unloving, anything that does not align itself with the goodness of the eternal creator. By some, sin is embraced, others fear it and still others are apathetic towards the acceptance of its mere existence. Sin is the very essence of death itself, it reeks of it, its stench often sweet in its initial fragrance rots in the nostrils leaving the senses numbed to its continued fetor. Sin is the rotting carcass left when Adam killed perfection in relationship. Although it is vile and epidemic in its cancerous advancement, there is a cure. Our eternal creator sent his son to restore and revive the life of relationship so its stench no longer sticks to our being. Scripture tells us we can and should enter the world, though filled with this endemic disease, to live surrounded by this virus, we have been granted immunity from its permanent effects. Unfortunately, many of the people that claim this inoculation have chosen instead to quarantine themselves from those still living with this illness. They live in fear of contracting a disease that is not allowed to kill us unless we allow it to be injected into our restored veins. By doing so they have lost the ability to share the antibody that runs through their soul. Instead they set up hospitals offering personality transplants rather than life saving IVs. We are not called to be hospitals, but medics, to enter the war zone and tend to the wounded and dying. We have taken it upon ourselves to attempt to learn the art of diagnosis and surgery rather than to simply stop the bleeding. Many have grown so comfortable in their sterilized environments that any seen with dirt on their hands is seen as diseased and must be kept from their zone of quarantine until they are deemed cleaned. We were not healed of the disease to live in quarantine, but to be able to enter into relationship with those still affected by it and share the cure. Lives lived in the light of truth must be lived un-quarantined. It is the enemy of life and the sower of sin that desires us to live lives cut off from the rest of world not in community with it. In a room filled with blindness there is no more powerful personality that that of sight. If entering the filth, pain and disease was wrong then Christ could not have done it. If we desire to be Christ-like a.k.a. Christian, then that is what we must do. Is it dangerous? Is it scary? Could it get messy? Of course! Jesus was killed for his efforts, and look what happened because of it, he destroyed the very disease that killed him. We treat people as we would cattle, if we can get them in the pen and stick them with the vaccine then they will be saved and the work is done. People are not animals and they can to choose to reject it even if it enters their veins. Healing is a process and it begins in relationship with a person that is willing to share their blood, the air in the space they live, and even laying down their life for another, John stated that as the greatest love to lay down ones life for his friends, not to lay id down for God, not to lay it down for principles, not lay it down for other “believers” but to lay it down for your friends, clean or unclean. Not until we as a mass are willing to step outside our safety zones and enter the disease zone in the un-quarantined world will a revolution of healing take place.

It all began on a rainy day in Arkansas, as do many grand adventures, with a trip to Wal-Mart. My brother and I needed supplies. Only the essentials, food and fishing gear and we all know, Wal-Mart is a one stop shop, one that not even Target can compete with for these necessities. Once we had spent an overly adequate amount of money we headed home to pack the truck, a Toyota of course, with all of our gear and goodies. The next morning after a glorious breakfast of homemade waffles, likely from scratch knowing my dad, we headed for the hills. We made our way the couple of short hours to my former college town were we met a friend of mine for an exquisite lunch at waffle house, not of waffles, but hash browns and eggs one of their specialties. After and hour of great conversation catching up on life over the last year my brother and I headed back out into the afternoon drizzle to complete our trek to the big piney creek “high” in the Ozark “mountains.” Once we arrive at our destination after having to widen the path for the truck in a couple of places, with our handy ax, we set out to catch dinner. First cast…Fish On! I knew it would be great trip. That evening we continued to catch our needed supply of fish, and then some, and proceeded to set up camp, start a fire and cook our foil wrapped delicacies. The first night was spent relaxing by the fire and then heading for bed just as a soft pitter-patter of ran began to fall on the canvas of our tent, there is no better lullaby.
The next morning sprang upon us with its full glory. The trees on the hills were just beginning to change into their fall majesty and the water was calm and clear. I immediately grabbed my pole and headed to wet the first mornings hook. Checking the poles I had left the night before I found a nice catfish tethered to my pole and smiled at my success in such a short time. I left him there to rest until I needed him for the ride home the next day. A few fish later, just as the sun was beginning to hit the valley floor I headed the hundred yards back to camp to cook up our breakfast of sausage and eggs covered in cheese, the perfect camping breakfast. Then, the second day’s adventures began. We filled the day with fishing, hiking, exploring, reading, relaxing, and my brothers intriguing desire to dig a hole in the sand. I decided to leave him to his pursuit of the perfect hole and headed down stream in search of the lunker fish I knew was hiding somewhere among the rocks and pools of the Big Piney. I caught several fish to add to the stringer and a few that I released back to grow until the next time. That afternoon we went for a refreshing swim in the cool water while the air was still warm enough to heat us again when we finished. That evening, the lunker having stayed hidden, we cooked our dinner of steaks that had marinating for the last two days and enjoyed a quite evening around the fire. The day past perfectly, although quickly, as any adventure does.
Morning the third day met us with an enclosure of fog and clouds that was breathtaking with the curls of whisping vapor curling off the creek in a beautiful display of natural ballet. The day warmed and the sun burned off the clouds for a bright, warm day. That day, the lunker was mine. After a hearty breakfast we once again headed for the creek, poles in hand. Through out the morning the fish bit and ran with a few deciding to visit it’s relatives on the stringer, but the last fish, was the prize. I had fished the hole several times before, not to much avail, but this time I was master of that domain. I knew I had a big one when the first time I hooked him he ran and broke my line. I retied my lure adjusted the settings on my reel and tried again. This time we fought, he ran, I pulled, he dove, I let him and finally he was on shore, in my hand a splendid large mouth bass nearly 3 pounds, I am sure, huge for a mountain creek. It was the perfect end to several days of fishing. After that we packed up, broke camp and headed out for an afternoon of my showing my brother my old stomping grounds in the forest that served as my escape in college. We visited a glorious over look, jumped from boulders, and marveled at the beauty of creation. We then headed home, after a short stop for dinner with some of my old buddies; we drove home, our trophies in the back.
It was a wonderful time, a first trip of the sort for my brother, and my first with him. I don’t think we will ever forget our grand Ozark adventure.