“Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one—I am talking like a madman—with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless beatings, and often near death. Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure.” – 2 Corinthians 11:23-27
Nicholas Moore, like other military warriors and first responders, was trained to “run to the sound of the guns.” Training is necessary because the notion is counterintuitive. Our instincts are to run away from the sound of gunfire. We naturally want to escape the burning house rather than enter it. Putting oneself in harm’s way—a counterintuitive action—requires training and courage.
Nicholas Moore had both. He served over a decade in an elite special operations unit within the US Army’s 75th Ranger Regiment on the battlefields of Afghanistan and Iraq. In Iraq, he “participated in the rescue of Private Jessica Lynch, hunted Iraq’s Most Wanted, and experienced brutal street combat, including 160 night-time missions over one 90-day deployment in the insurgent stronghold of Mosul. While serving in Afghanistan, he was also part of the search and rescue operation for Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell (author of Lone Survivor) and was on the ground again when a Chinook helicopter was shot down resulting in the death of 38 men and one military working dog. It was the single greatest loss of special operations personnel to date.”
Moore tells his riveting and deeply personal story in the appropriately named book, Run to the Sound of the Guns. Readers gain insight on what inspires someone like him to go in the direction of trouble, rather than retreat. Through training and sheer guts, men and women like Nicholas Moore are wired differently than others.
The Apostle Paul, as we learn in the opening passage, possessed similar, counterintuitive instincts. After all the suffering he endured, I wouldn’t have blamed him for wanting to dial back his ministry. I would have understood him curtailing risky activities that brought him pain. Instead, Paul, like Nicholas Moore, repeatedly ran toward the sound of the guns. In 2 Corinthians 12:10, Paul provides his motivation: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
The most effective Christians I know are the ones who run toward the sound of the guns. One couple adopted a “high risk” child that no one else wanted. Another couple gives up all that is comfortable and familiar to serve as missionaries in a poverty-stricken, third-world country. Others invest in troubled teens, forgotten prisoners, and homeless addicts—people too often neglected due to the high level of difficulty involved. Instinctively, most would prefer to adopt a healthy, well-adjusted child (and there’s goodness in that). If we evangelize at all, better to do so in a safe, middle-class neighborhood. Less potential for gunfire, right?
I want to live counterintuitively. My goal is to be more like Nicholas Moore or, better yet, the Apostle Paul. I want to be involved in ministries that most are unwilling to do. Like Paul, I want to draw strength from hardship and persecution. I want to take risks and take chances for God. I don’t want to appear before Jesus on Judgement Day and hear, “Wow, Steve, you sure played it safe! Didn’t you realize I was right beside you in all those battles you avoided?”
After all Jesus did for us, let’s be bold and courageous. It’s time to get our hands dirty in ministry. It’s time to run toward the sound of the guns!
