I've been sitting on the back deck, flannel pj's, warm hoody on, barefoot, as the evening sky gave way to that moment when you can no longer read without the aid of a light bulb. To me, it is the most glorious moment of the day. A time of transformation. It is even more magical here in the north since it seems to linger in the air, almost promising to stay the night.

I've been reading Paul's Romans. A Gospel story if ever there was one. I can't imagine Christianity without it. One of my professors warned me early on not to lean too heavily on Paul, that I should endeavor to remain balanced in the light offered from other books like James and Revelation as well. I don't remember the cause of his remark, just the concern of it. Anyhow, I don't mind tumbling down the rabbit hole with Paul. Romans can certainly induce vertigo in me. It can drain the fluids from my inner ear and leave me looking for a place to lean or sit. It can stun to the point of powerlessness, leaving me unable to walk or talk. So tonight, I left my professors remark behind and dug for treasure in a minefield.

In chapter one, Paul tells us he was not ashamed of the Gospel. I wish I could ask him what he meant by that. What is there that Paul, could possibly be ashamed about as He preached and lived God's Gospel? As Paul yielded himself to the knockdown of God on the road to Damascus, he took up an unbalanced life and made glory out of it. Paul was beaten, stoned, left for dead, fed prison food, basically tortured in so many places where he should have been treated like a conquering hero, that I can't figure why he would even put ashamed and Gospel in the same sentence.

As I sat there in the light darkness, I thought like preachers do, looking for analogies to the text so that I could make sermon sense of it, at least that's how this preacher thinks, always looking for another story to explain the Gospel story. As I began thinking this way, the bats began their floppy flights, looking as unbalanced as a pregnant woman taking a sobriety test. They just don't look like they can fly. But they apparently make up for their jagged flying with their radar capabilities. They can find those pesky insects that I can't even see, even in the dark they can hunt them down and dispatch them like nothing else in the animal kingdom.

The bat rids me of fear really. The fear of West Nile virus or other disease since it eats the carriers of such. He swoops in and cleans the air, filters my space, makes me stay a little longer, enjoying the place enough to call it mine for a while. What good news. Gospel.

I suppose the Gospel is the biggest cleanup job in history. It's God's filter, making life pure and fun, sweet and sassy at once. The Gospel makes life worth living. It should never have needed to take place, but thank God that there was a plan in place from the beginning.

I don't feel any shame anymore because of that Gospel(don't misunderstand, I feel responsibility, and I know how to act on that responsibility, by yielding to Him). In fact, the first thing to go when God comes around is shame. Just look at the woman at the well or the woman caught in adultery or the demoniac by the sea, or Peter or Thomas. The bat does not cause me fear like it does so many others. It causes confidence and assurance. Its on the job and I can be at peace. The same is true of Christ, He's on the job, He can do nothing else but be Good News, it's in His blood. He's not ashamed of His rescue operation, nor is He ashamed of me. Even the shameful cross, most evil instrument of torture and image of shame, does not shame Him or Paul. It saves me. It saves the one who will let go of the shame and fear. It's a dirty job I suppose, but someone's got to do it. I'll not be ashamed of  my part of it.