Kill John (Pentecost - Day 1)

(Based on 1 Corinthians 2:1-13)

So, two nights ago I was driving down a sandy, unpaved road in the middle of the night with my girlfriend. We were scoping out a spot to go flounder gigging. I had done some previous research using Google Earth to find some spots as I was unfamiliar with the area. The research led me to Port Bay Road. There were no houses around. There were no street signs, just this sandy road leading to the edge of the water. When we finally got to the end of the road, the headlights exposed hundreds of bait fish jumping out of the water, and we parked the vehicle. I pulled out my spotlight to examine the area, but my girlfriend asked, "Did you see what was written in the sand?" I said, "No. What does it say?"
She grabbed the spotlight from me, walked to the front of the car, and shined the light on the words written in the sand. The car happened to be parked right in front of the phrase, "KILL JOHN." Immediately, she jumped back into the car wondering what in the world could have possibly been meant by these words. I just pushed the thinking aside because I wanted to scope out the area. I wanted to catch some flounder this weekend. 
I started thinking about it when we left. What did it mean? Was it a setup? Was this some evil plot by the creators of Google Earth? 
The truth was that I didn't know why these words were written in the sand, and I didn't know who the John was that they were referring to. My girlfriends was freaked out, and I was catapulted into the mind-numbing daze of theory and belief. There were words, their were emotions, there were responses. The problem was, we were presented with a message that connected us with an unfounded story, and we weren't given a reason why.  
As I thought about this event this morning, I thought about how the message found in the scriptures is often presented in the same way the message "KILL JOHN" was written in the sand. The hearer is left with fear, confusion, and a burden of not knowing why the message was created in the first place. So, it's only reasonable that the hearer of a message that's presented without substance or explanation will experience the byproducts of emotional reaction. For us, it was impossible to find out why the message was written in the sand. 
Part of being a great teacher is presenting a message but not holding a monopoly on the message. A great teacher actually points the audience back to the beginning of the message, leaving it up to them to interpret and come to their own conclusions. When we're left without a trace of where a message comes from, all that's left is emotional reactivity and not tangible depth. 
The author Paul tells us that he's scared most of the time about presenting the Message of Jesus. He feels inadequate, and feels like he's not impressing anyone. But then, he goes on to say that he still believes the message is making it's way into the minds and ears of his audience. Why? He says he teaches nothing but who Jesus is and what he did. Everything else is left up to the interpretation and research of the audience. Through what he calls "God's wisdom and power," the substance of the message trudges its way through. 
My question is, How many times have we been presented with a message that was presumably true, but were left with no way of unpacking it to find out the truth for ourselves? This happens every time we watch a commercial or hear a politician speak. We are given "plain truths" and given manufactured sources for these truths, but we have no way of unpacking them for ourselves. These days, even unpacking the "truth" requires going down a rabbit hole. 
What I take away from Paul's passage today is this: When we finally flush out all the noise of religious leaders, politicians, marketing gimmicks, and pyramid scams, we're left with the pure, simple, message of God's love for us. We find that the only way to grow deeper in that love is to actually pay more attention to our own heartbeats and less attention to all the voices screaming around us with a bullhorn. Sure, it's very enlightening and helpful to hear those messages, but at the end of the day it's us, alone, wondering what actually happens when we turn off the lights and close our eyes.
God's wisdom is found when we spend more time tapping into that thing inside of us that lights up when spend time having coffee with someone we love. It's found when we pay more attention to the spark that turns into a flame when we're at a Dave Matthews concert. God's wisdom is found when we spend more time connecting with what brings us life and energy and zeal. When we rely more on sources that are outside of our own, unique, experiences to define what or who God is, we pay less attention to the whispering spirit within. We let others define the unique, indescribable ambition within, and it gets whittled down to a hesitant, untrustworthy, nuisance. We become less confident in the Sprit residing in, and more confident in the spirits dwelling outside. 
I hope, as well as Paul did, that I am presenting a message that makes sense to my audience. I hope I'm not wrapping it up with polished language and fashionable wisdom, but conveying something that my audience can chew on with me. I hope the message I present doesn't single out anyone, but draws every reader in to examine the voice, the pulling, the divine shaping that is occurring in our own hearts.