Anesthesia – especially the general kind – scares me. 

I know statistically, it’s not that dangerous. You only have about a 1 in 100,000 chance of not waking up. Which means 99,999 chances you will.

Still. That 1 is a little unnerving.

They say it’s like your body’s in a coma. Your brain activity is reduced to just life support. Barely. 

Everything still works except for the part of your brain that recognizes input and decides what to do with it. It’s asleep while time moves on.

The more our culture and society move away from biblical teaching and ethics, the more the Church must struggle to not live an anesthetized and comatose life.

It’s a tension of 2P’s. A dance of prophetic and pastoral. A two-step of equals. Sometimes pastoral leads. Other times the voice of one calling in the wilderness takes the initiative.

It flows from a humble posture of love. Not judgmental. Not accusatory. Appreciating that all sin is heinous in God’s sight. That all of us are equal before God. Really believing this. Not just lip service.

But it doesn’t end there. It continues with a sharing of God’s desire. His timeless truth. Not undermining it by saying, “I believe…,” but rather lovingly stating “God teaches in the Bible…” Understanding you might be pronounced guilty by association.

More art than science. More relational than transactional. Love that doesn’t leave. Truth that doesn’t pretend.

The pastoral-prophetic role of the Church won’t become easier. Public persecution of those who adhere to the full spectrum of Jesus’ teaching will only increase. That horse left the barn decades ago.

It’s a matter of how you want to live. Comas don’t require much. Breathing and being do.