Significant Insignificant Moments

My freshman year of college began sometime late in the last century, which shows my age even more then the widening bald spot on top of my head. As most new freshmen do, I trekked over to the school's basketball arena for the freshman convocation. After a boring wave of speakers, we were finally allowed to exit, free to roam the free events and grab all the goodies and free food we could want for the rest of the evening. Upon exiting the Bryce Jordan Center (Penn State's arena), me and the 2 friends I was with noticed a stage set up across the street - a free concert. Cool, we thought...maybe we'll check it out later. Few people wandered into the field that had been roped off for the concert, and, also like most freshmen, we simply went where the majority of the crowd was headed. Very sheep-like.

We ended up back at East Halls, the 70's-style dorm mega-complex nearly all PSU freshmen call home. At times it felt like the Dharma Initiative barracks, minus the baby blue vans, gender-neutral jumpsuits, and horrifying monster lurking behind the sonic fence. The campus had lots of random events set up in Dharmaville, but after meandering our way around we found ourselves bored and looking for something else. The concert!, we remembered, and decided to trek back over. By the time we arrived the music had stopped, the stage was being torn down, and the tables around the periphery were surrounded by people packing up boxes of giveaway items, flyers, and contact cards.

We must have looked the part of ungainly freshmen - wide-eyed and zit-faced - and before we were even there 2 minutes a tall, friendly-looking upperclassman greeted us. His name was Brooks. In our eyes he was a heroic figure. A junior condescending to converse with 3 lowly freshmen! This would never happen in high school! We probably talked to Brooks for less than 5 minutes, but for the rest of that school year he was, for us, the face of Campus Crusade for Christ. The concert was a Crusade-sponsored event, and we may have ended up as the last group of freshmen to fill out a contact card before they were all boxed away. Brooks, being the hero he was, made sure we got them.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, the 5 minutes I spent at that already-finished concert would change the course of my life forever. The contact card I filled out ended up in the hands of another upperclassman, who called and invited me to a Bible study and to Prime Time (what Cru meetings were called in the olden days). He also paid my friend Justin, who was with me that night, a visit, and shared the Gospel. Justin and I got involved in the Bible study and started attending Prime Time - keeping our eyes peeled for our new hero Brooks, of course - and both of us would receive Christ within a year and a half. New life sprung in our dead hearts. And now, 12 years later, I'm on staff with Crusade, serving God full-time amongst college students. It all started with a 5 minute interaction with a guy we only talked to once or twice more in our entire college career, and with the scribbling of a name and phone number on a contact card.

Why do I tell you this story? For 2 reasons. First, these first 2 weeks of college are full of these moments I like to call significant insignificant moments. A flyer or card is handed to someone. An awkward introduction is made at a campus-sponsored event. A canned conversation (Where are you from? What's your major? What dorm are you in?) happens in the dining hall. Often we have no idea how eternally significant these brief interactions can be. I came to Christ as a direct result of one. And as we go out on campus this week - handing out thousands of flyers, inviting passers-by to a BBQ, telling people on our dorm floor about Cru, standing at a table asking students to stop by and fill out a survey - we'll have thousands of them. Thousands of insignificant little interactions that could have great eternal significance.

I hope the thought of that inspires you to force yourself through the awkwardness and anxiety of initiating with strangers. Every interaction could change someone's life entirely. And that's why we press forward, publicizing, inviting, introducing, even when it seems that we've done in enough already. You never know who you may talk to next. Could it be an atheist who becomes a bold witness for Christ? Could it be a future pastor? Missionary? Could it be a person who's deeply hurting and looking for a place to find hope?

Let's be expectant, faithful people, knowing that God is using even our briefest interactions for great purpose and for His glory.

Secondly, I want to encourage and challenge you with the thought that you will become the face of Cru to those you meet. For me, Brooks was a larger-than-life figure. He was Cru. In hindsight I knew nothing about him - whether he was a leader, just marginally involved, or if he flaked out and fell off the deep end soon after our little conversation. But since he was the first person I met, he was the first thing I thought of when I thought of Cru.

It's a bit sobering to think that you could be another person's Brooks. As soon as you tell a freshman about Cru, they'll think of you every time they think of it. More importantly, since Cru is a movement dedicated to sharing Jesus with the campus, they'll link Cru with Jesus, and subsequently link you with Jesus. Wow. No pressure, huh!

To me, this is great motivation to be a positive face. To walk in righteousness and godly conduct. To be edifying and encouraging in my speech. To act in love. To be mindful of the image I project and the substance behind it. The bond between holiness and evangelism is a tight one.

So, all you faces of Cru who read this, I encourage you to live in a way that honors God, take steps of faith and initiative to make conversations with freshmen, and pray that God uses you in some significant insignificant moments this week, even if you aren't even aware of it.

--Jason