But that was before I read it. This book was about the idea of the verandah, and that was fascinating. The verandah sits on the edge of the house, back or front (sometimes side, too). It sticks out into the wider world, letting those who find themselves ensconced on it experience the breeze, hear the sounds of passing traffic (city) or wildlife (country) and enjoy its cover from the worst of the elements. It’s a safe, in-between kind of place.

Verandah-dwellers have one foot in the house, and one foot outside it. They are still at home, but they are also aware of the world, able to participate in it, and are also likely to be affected by it. They are on the edge of two things: their own place, and everyone else’s. (The academics have a fancy word for this space; they call it the “liminal”.)

Perhaps the verandah is a good image for where a Christian should spend most of his or her time. It’s still part of the house, and Christians belong in the House, the church. The Bible clearly prioritises other Christians as the “first community” to which we belong (e.g. Galatians 6:10). I think that is one reason why the outcry has been so loud from Christians around the world at the recent persecution of Iraqi believers: these are members of our household under attack.

But the New Testament at the same time emphasises the mission of Christianity. The merciful love of God shown to us in Jesus Christ is too good to keep in-house. It has to get to the verandah, and down the front path to the street. We will always want to get the Word out of the House. And when we are sitting on the verandah, we always face outwards, to the world in need, rather than inwards, towards the safety of the House. Or at least, that’s the direction we should face.

The verandah is the place from which Christians reach out. It connects us with the wider world, but does so from a position of safety – it’s shaded, protected, and you can easily go back inside if things get too hot. It provides you a safe haven from which to engage the world out there. On the verandah, you are “safe in the shadow of the Lord”.

Lest I sound a bit wimpy here (I can see an image of a lazy Christian reclining in a rocking chair, half-asleep, murmuring about getting up and doing something one of these days…), we have to recognise the enormous energy and confidence that such safety should give us. You’re safe; be bold. God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline, Paul taught Timothy (2 Tim 1:7). Make that verandah do some work.

You can invite anyone up onto the verandah to share in the cool air, relax on your banana lounges and “taste and see that the Lord is good”. And you should. Ask them up to talk about the world, about faith, about different worldviews. Get them into a comfortable chair and wrestle with the issues of the world, holding out Christ as the key. Give them a drink, enjoy the afternoon atmosphere, but make the most of the opportunity. Even people you think you will never get on with may see things differently from the shade of the verandah.

The safety of the verandah is not just a lounging pad, but a launching pad.

I suspect the verandah is a better image than some of the ones we use for the way Christians engage with the world. 

We fall into military metaphors – attacking our enemies, winning the air war, guarding the frontiers – and these set a certain tone for the way we interact with anyone who is not already in the House with us.

If we do end up in fisticuffs, let’s at least do it on the verandah rather than out on the street, where all the neighbours are watching. On the verandah, we have a better hope of understanding our differences, and making up with a decent cup of tea after the fighting dies down.