I once knew a guy who sang in the church choir. He was a bit of a mystery, this guy; kept to himself mostly, spoke softly and always walked with his head bowed low as if in prayer.
He was a man of very few words. But in church it dawned on you that he was something special because in the choir this guy was transformed into something phenomenal.
He came alive. He bristled with energy. So let’s say you were seated in church, nursing a hangover and trying to muster as much humility before the good Lord by trying not to acknowledge the fact that you were indeed bored and sleepy.
And just when you were thinking, for the umpteenth time that morning, that perhaps you should have just stayed in bed, the choir started to sing and you heard this voice.
This voice that fills the church and fills your spirit with the good word. Think Youssou N’Dour singing ‘Halleluiyah’.
This guy was a human canary; he had a voice built for reaping souls – even the hangover ones. Especially the hangover ones.
So anyway, he was – as you probably have guessed – born again (you know, he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal savior).
But as fate would have it – and as a testimony that, indeed, the heart is not so smart – his faith constantly clashed with his heart.
He always fell for the women who didn’t ‘walk in the light’; women who didn’t share his spiritual disposition.
Fell for them like an orange off a tree. Fell for them hard. And so his life became a constant battle between evil and good, between love and faith, all powerful emotions in their own right and all pulling him in opposite directions.
He was a torn man, which, perhaps, explained why he always walked with his head constantly bowed down.
Anyway, since he was a man who knew which side of his toast was buttered, he constantly managed to make the right call… but one day his luck ran out.
He met someone, a lady, another ‘non-believer’. But this time he couldn’t muster the strength to say no. So he started dating her and the murmurs in the choir started.
He became the outlaw, the one who ‘jumped in bed’ with the enemy. Finally, he had to leave that church and move to another one where his dark life was not known.
The choir was never the same without his voice. That much I can tell you. The Bible doesn’t make bones about this topic in 2 Corinthians 6:14, saying:
“Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? And what communion has light with darkness?”
Deuteronomy 22:10 is even more explicit: “Do not plow with an ox and a donkey yoked together.” So yes, oranges and bananas should be in different baskets. Fine.
Everyone, ultimately, goes to God where matters of the heart are involved. You pray that you end up with a good spouse (or with any kind of spouse, as exhibited by the army of women who headed to KICC not too long ago to pray for husbands).
You go before Him to give you the strength not to raise your hand to a woman who is driving you up the wall. And you go before Him to pledge holy matrimony when you meet ‘The One.’
God is the ultimate intervener and from what I know of Him, he is a merciful God. A God who doesn’t judge.
There is a silent hostility (for lack of a better word) that the church fraternity exudes when a ‘non-believer’ tries dating inside the flock.
They are treated like an outsider, a spoiler, a tainted being who has no business mingling with the faithful. Light and darkness, they say, cannot walk together.
As one believer I engaged told me, “If the non-believer is willing and has been convicted by the lives of the believers, he will accept Jesus.
But if the believers are swayed by the life and interaction of the non-believer, they will fall.”
“But what if he really loves her in a way that no other believer can?”
“Doesn’t matter, it won’t work,” he dismissed me, “because they are headed in two different directions.”
“Have you ever heard of acceptance?” I whined.
“This is not about acceptance,” he said, “this is about destiny, purpose and eternity!” I gave up.
And that’s the thing; the guys who are a part of these groups are always – and perhaps rightfully so – very protective of the ‘sisters’ in these groups.
A non-believer who is interested in one of them is immediately treated not as a man first, but as a non-believer, regardless of his intentions.
This is my take: it is hard enough finding love. So what if you find it out of church?
Source- http://www.nation.co.ke/Features/saturday/A+place+where+faith+and+love+clash+/-/1216/1237268/-/item/0/-/wfu6nvz/-/index.html
Source- http://www.startribune.com/local/north/129952743.html
