The other night I had a dream that I was in the belly of a big sea monster. There was a man there. I was worried that we didn’t have anything to talk about, but it turned out that he was a Christian. God had called him to be a missionary to Ninevah, a real post-modern enclave according to him. (“It has the second highest concentration of homosexuals in the US,” he said. I nodded sagely as I always do.)
So now he just had to figure out how to get there.
“Really strange” I said, “that God would call someone in the belly of a Pleisaur and tell him to get past all those obstacles and cover all that distance. I’m not God, but I would have thought it would make more sense to pick someone closer–someone with a direct land route, at least.”
Then I noticed that my new fried didn’t seem to be able to make eye contact with me.
There was more to the dream. One thing I woke up thinking was that when Christians talk about needing to reach today’s culture that there must be some sort of back story they’re not telling anyone.