Thomson Paris: On Fire

Meet Thomson Paris—my brother from another mother.

I once told him he was a good looking guy with the best smile I'd ever seen. He gave me a weird look.

I'm secure enough in my manhood to recognize a fine looking man. On a scale of 1 to 10 Thomson's smile alone gets an 11 on the hotness scale.

But what makes him such a great guy is the fire that burns inside. I've never in person seen such boldness and consistency from someone who loves Jesus without the pretension, posturing, and self-righteousness that usually accompanies such qualities until I met Thomson.

Thomson and I were at a meeting once where an evangelistic/community service project we supported got lambasted by a couple of people. They didn't think the souls we were trying to help were worth our time. Too much liability they said. Too much danger in helping drug addicts, the mentally deranged, etc. who were just a step above homelessness on the bad side of town. But it wasn't totally what they said that bothered me, it was how they said it. They didn't seem interested in our view. After they spoke they sat with scowls. 

Facing such unexpected venom I responded in my typical way:

1. I sat in stunned silence.

2. I got angry.

Not wanting to make a scene and undecided on how I should tactfully respond, I bit my tongue and waited for a change of subject.

However, Thomson wouldn't let it go.

Instead of getting down in the trenches and playing dirty, Thomson countered their presuppositions by being gentle as a dove, yet boldly standing by his convictions for the project. He cited examples of Christ's actions from the Bible. Thomson spoke of how Christ came to the most dangerous place in the universe—Earth, the only place stained by sin—on a search and rescue mission. 

It got me thinking of how Jesus chose to grow up in Nazareth (Can any good thing come from Nazareth?). The Messiah spent time eating, drinking, and socializing with prostitutes, tax collectors, and might I add—drug addicts, the mentally deranged, and the homeless. Jesus did these things because He wanted an intimate love relationship with them and know them, if possible, for the rest of eternity. 

Nothing was formally resolved between our differing groups, but a lesson was learned by me: Anything worth doing is worth fighting for.

A day later I vented my frustration about the meeting. But Thomson wasn't interested in rehashing the past. He wouldn't be drawn into denigrating anyone.

Never have I learned so much from a friend just from observing him.

That's why I call him, "Thomson the Bold."