Do you know the difference between visiting as a tourist and really experiencing the culture?
Monte and I went to jail last week.
I’ve written about this before. It’s the fourth or fifth year we’ve spoken to this audience. I’m always touched by the experience. It’s easily my favorite speaking gig.
This year I was reminded by Jon Swanson to avoid being a tourist. Jon’s words reminded me that Jesus didn’t do drive-through ministry. He listened and got to know people, visited their homes, ate with them. He didn’t just offer a few passing words of wisdom. He engaged with them, became immersed in their problems, got involved in their lives.
I realized something important about this very special audience. I ALWAYS come away excited, emotionally drained, and feeling like my words matter.
But they also frighten and intimidate me. They wear orange jump suits, and many have tattoos that feel threatening because they’re unfamiliar. When they enter the room I want to retreat and keep my distance.
I’ll bet that’s how Jesus’ disciples felt. I’m sure that’s how the religious leaders felt—they needed to maintain ritual and social purity. But Jesus rolled up His sleeves and got right in with the everyday, ordinary people.
That’s what I resolved to do. It wanted to meet these folks, shake their hands, and speak to as many of them as possible. That idea scared me to death.
The men and women began trickling in. I wanted to shrink back, but I didn’t. I rolled toward men with shaved heads, spooky tattoos, oddly trimmed facial hair, and puzzled facial expressions. I introduced myself and extended my hand. The responses were mixed.
I approached women who held back, or who boldly met my eyes with their own intimidating stare. Everyone here has their own history, their own way of responding to strangers, their own way of controlling or withdrawing from unfamiliar situations.
But some were friendly. They appreciated the greeting, the expression of humanity, the connection. I’m reminded that this isn’t a group, a mass, a collective. The folks in the chairs are individuals. They all have stories and families and successes and failures, which makes them a whole lot like me.
I begin speaking, and I realize that I’m seeing faces instead of prison uniforms. Jay is getting out in a week and hoping he’ll stay sober. Vanessa’s little girl is sick. Kat loves Monte and misses her dog. Adam is one of my former students.
Jail is a frightening place. I’m glad I was able to feel a little less like a tourist.
The world is pretty scary too, much of the time. I’m glad Jesus wasn’t a tourist here. I’m glad He got involved.
I’m glad He still is.
Is there somewhere where you’re being too much a tourist, just sort of passing through? How can you get more involved?
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