In "da" club, but not of it...

Writing a blogpost about going to a club on Saturday night probably takes away from the "coolness" factor of the experience and exposing me for the "square" I really am--oh well.

If you knew me two years ago, or even a year ago and had mentioned the idea of going to a club on any night of the week, you would've been met by a response that would entail me giving you a lecture on why that's sinful.

Needless to say, I've mellowed out quite a bit.

Anyway, I went to Santa Barbara (woot) this past weekend and my friends and I decided to go to a club on Saturday night. It wasn't just on a whim-- it was part of a series of events known as the "Daniel Craig birthday celebration." And no, it wasn't like a James Bond convention/conference. No, nothing quite so creepy or fanatical. I'm talking about another Dan Craig, who happens to be turning 26 on Wednesday.

Before we went to the club, my friends and I stopped by a bar where they featured swing dancing music on Thurs-Saturday nights. Elise, my beloved ex-roommate, is the best swing dancer I know. I was excited to watch her dance because it really is THAT amazing. But what was even more exciting was that I actually got to use my I.D to gain access to something under-aged people couldn't. I know, I'm easily amused. I wonder what was going through the bouncer's head when I eagerly handed him my I.D, with a huge goofy smile plastered on my face. Come to think of it, I may have also told the guy who checked my I.D at Tonic about how excited I was to be there.

What I observed in the club and at the bar was pretty similar. For some reason, I had always pictured clubs and bars (and I'm sure that this assumption is not completely off-based) to be the breeding ground of all things blatantly sinful. Granted, it wasn't the picture of heaven either. When it comes down to it, it was a place for people to meet people. I mean, God did make us to live in community with one another and Christian or not, people will seek people out. It was very interesting to watch the friendliness and camaraderie at these places that will rival any Christian churches out there. People are generally very friendly, in a non-creepy way. They strike up conversations with strangers and offer to buy people drinks. A guy that was with us, offered to buy us a couple round of drinks--I politely declined, of course, due to my disdain for beer because it smells and tastes like crap--but still, I thought, how often do Christian guys offer to buy a "round" of sodas when we're at In-and-Out?

I was surprised that none of those things that I thought would happen to me, happened when I went to these places. I mean, fire and brimstone didn't start falling from the sky, nor was I struck by lightning--which I thought might happen as soon as I set foot inside a bar. And, I actually had fun. Sober-because-Christ-lives-in-me-and-I-want-to-be-a-witness-for-him, kind of fun. I enjoyed talking to people. I loved dancing with my friends. I also enjoyed the part where even though I was in their world, I wasn't part of it. I was merely visiting. And because I was just visiting, clubbing and bar-hopping, isn't something I'm going to make a habit out of. But, at least, now I'm not so afraid of it.

After this weekend, and after spending time with people who aren't part of the church-scene that I have been so accustomed to, I remembered how Jesus Christ came to us, because we could not and would not go to Him. I think that it is a great analogy to what Christians must do to reach people who don't know/don't care about Jesus. And this, among other things, is a sensitive subject within the Christian realm. But I would like to offer up my point of view, fully aware that there is potential for me to be wrong, but I will gladly take the risk in order to think outside the box and maybe to challenge others along the way: I know that as Christians, we are called to be holy and set apart. But we are also called to be great commissioners and be witnesses to the people that are in the world and trapped in their sin, like we, who now know Christ, once were. How can we be witnesses if we stay away from people that need to see Jesus? Is it possible to be holy and set apart, while being in these dark and forsaken places, for the sake of Christ and to the glory of God?

I think it is. We applaud missionaries for their courage in traversing over large bodies of water to live amongst cannibals, head-hunters, and witch doctors to preach the Gospel and live as examples of Jesus Christ. In my opinion, we don't have to go quite so far to minister to those living in the heart of darkness--though it will still require the same amount of courage, same amount of compassion and same amount of obedience, if not more.