Supermodels

In his book Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller says that we sometimes have to see someone else love something before we ourselves are able to love that thing. Tonight I found myself among a group of teenagers in Florence, Alabama as we entered into the new year in worship. Had I not been overcome by a sense of wonder at the sight, I would have probably been a little embarrassed to be a worship intern at a seminary who was standing at the back of the building looking on as the teenagers danced and sang and bowed and raised hands. I watched as they taught me through their worship how to love Jesus. But for some reason, i wasn't embarrassed at all. Perhaps because when I am desperate to learn how to love, it doesn't really matter who teaches me or who leads me in worship.
After a few minutes of standing, I decided to sit, because a slow song came on and that's what you do during a slow song. That is unless, of course, you are at a high school dance (or any dance), and then, slow songs are the only times you (if you are me) actually walk to the dance floor and dance. As I sat on one of the many futons scattered across the room, I couldn't stop staring at the 10 ft. wooden cross that faced me. There was nothing particularly special about this cross, but it spoke of a mystery that I seemed to have forgotten. It probably should have been strange to watch followers of Jesus dance around the very symbol of his death, but it was in this symbol of death that those who danced around it (as well as those of us who just sat and stared) found life. In our Lord's greatest sorrow, we find our greatest joy. So I just stared and smiled, because it was in that cross that I was able to see Someone else love something in a way that inspired and empowered me to also love that thing.