A while ago I used the phrase “Gatekeeper of Eternal Beauty” to describe a very dear friend, and it’s become a recurring theme ever since. As Christians, we long for transcendence. We want our lives to count for something infinitely bigger than just the random nothings that the world tells us are so important. But how do we do it, especially when we face so many distractions in our daily lives. I want to offer a suggestion: we need to surround ourselves with Gatekeepers of Eternal Beauty and follow their examples.
In the New Testament, Paul personally taught Timothy how to be a pastor, and then exhorted Timothy to teach others, and for those others to teach others, too. Today, we also need these kinds of Gatekeepers, these friends and mentors who are further down the road of the Christian life than we are. They’ve seen the beauty of God, the Gospel, and eternity better than we have yet, so we spend time with them because we want to think their good thoughts after them, and follow their example. We mimic their hearts and lives so the eternal beauty that’s reflected in their lives gets imprinted onto our lives, too, so that we, too, can increasingly reflect that same beauty to others.
Gatekeepers are not easy to find. They are few and far between, but they are definitely worth the search. If you find a Gatekeeper, befriend him or her as if your life depends on it—because, in one sense, it does. A Gatekeeper watches out for our best interest, often because he or she has already been down the road we’re about to take and knows the dangers we will face. If we want a victorious journey, we must take heed to their exhortations and encouragements.
A Gatekeeper of Eternal Beauty is a student of beauty, a lover of goodness, and a seeker of truth. A Gatekeeper is someone who sees beyond the façade of daily life, and even of a whole lifetime, to eternity, to heaven, to the Gospel, to ultimate reality—the way God sees things. A Gatekeeper is someone who understands that our preoccupation with eternity and the Gospel doesn’t just affect our future status in glory, but our daily life today as well. God has woven His story and His beauty into our daily lives, right here and now. Gatekeepers love life, not because their lives are perfect, but because their hearts know the One who put all the beauty into life, and they are blissfully overwhelmed by Him and by what He does in their lives.
A Gatekeeper is not only a pursuer of beauty, goodness, and truth, but is also a guardian, a sentry who makes sure that we do not lose touch with those issues which matter most. In a metaphorical, shepherding sense, they help us know which gates to enter and depart from, and they send us in the right direction.
Becoming a Gatekeeper happens to those whose worldviews are entrenched and wrapped up in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This world is utterly dark until we understand and receive the forgiveness of God through Christ, who died in our place, as our Substitute on the Cross. That truth, the Gospel, is the cornerstone of all beauty in our lives. Sadly, few of us plumb its depths and its massive implications for the beauty that our lives can enjoy. Why? Because we do not understand how to take the truths we hear and read and reach to the depths of our worldview.
Reprogramming our worldview is not as easy as we may think. Changing our worldview is not about taking a class or reading a book. We can change our beliefs fairly easily, but not our worldviews. They are deeply hidden inside us, and though they get easily programmed when we are children, they get harder and harder to change as we grow up. In fact, it’s difficult to even identify them. A worldview is not what you think about; it’s simply what you think.
Very often our beliefs and our worldviews are polar opposites, even though we don’t necessarily realize it. For example, we can truly believe that life is beautiful, but have worldviews that “know” on a deeper level that life is sad and disappointing. Or we can truly believe that our bodies are good, because God made them, but on a worldview level we may hate our bodies. We can adhere to something in principle, but not really “buy it” internally. And in the contest of belief versus worldview, worldview always wins.
Gatekeepers are people who have deliberately asked God to push eternity into the depths of their thinking and to reprogram their worldview. In Romans 12, after Paul plumbed the depths of the Gospel, the very first way he applies that great theology is by exhorting us to offer ourselves as living sacrifices to God and to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. God wants our minds—our worldviews—renewed.
God takes such willing servants and grants them the desires of their hearts, which He Himself planted there. He shapes them into seasoned warriors, passionate poets, more prepared than ever to minister grace to those around them. He makes them better able to cry out to God in prayer than ever before. He gives them eyes to see the angels coming down from the mountain that no one else can see. He helps them see that He really does bring beauty from ashes.
As God transforms our worldviews, He puts into us a greater capacity for joy, and a deep gratitude for the good things in life that He grants us. But whether every dream of ours comes true or not, we find ourselves realizing more and more that life’s beauty does not come from God becoming our personal Genie Who grants all our wishes. We find that beauty is already all around us. Our eyes lose the scales that were over them, and we find our hearts welling up to the point of overflowing. We find ourselves smiling at everyone we meet, not because our lives are perfect, but because no matter what storm we may face, we have the settled conviction that God knows everything that is happening in our lives and has a plan for our good and His glory.
A heart set on fire with that worldview cannot help but want to cherish life and soak in the beauty all around us. The Gospel takes us to the point where we want to give and give and give, to be “wasted for Christ.” A heart set on fire for God knows how much it’s been chosen, forgiven, loved, wooed, cherished, and protected. Gatekeepers put all of life’s circumstances through that paradigm—that filter, that grid. As with all of life, any particular situation isn't just about that situation; it's about something much bigger. It’s about the Gospel and about ultimate reality, about how the circumstances of our lives reflect or explain God's character, His salvation plan, and heaven. There is a always massive theme going on behind the scenes, and though we can't see it yet, it's there.
If your heart is focused on God’s beauty, you will find that you will naturally surround yourself with Gatekeepers because those cherished moments in their company are what make life seem healthy, whole, and beautiful. You’ll find yourself asking them what they are reading, what they’ve been thinking about, what songs they’ve been singing, and what kind of art they’ve been enjoying or creating. You’ll find that you have conversations that you look back on with amazement. The cheap stuff of life—the gossip, the celebrities, the tv shows, the pursuit of more and more “stuff”—will show its true colors, and will sicken you. You won’t reject the cheap side of life because a preacher told you to, or because you read about it in a book; you will reject it because you really want to, and you will replace it with the true beauty—God’s beauty. Changing our worldviews is not about setting up a list of dos and don’ts; it’s about truly wanting to pursue God, from the heart.
Some of us might feel discouraged by these concepts because though we want that kind of life, we feel like it’s out of reach. If you don’t feel like much of a Gatekeeper, like you really want to be but can’t imagine how you’ll ever get there, take heart. Chances are you’re already on the path and don’t realize it. The key is not our perfection, but our direction. We don’t need to focus on where we think we should be or could be by now. We need to ask ourselves what makes our heart soar and what makes us feel like we are home. We need to ask ourselves what are the deepest desires of our hearts. If what you want most in life is to tell others about what God has done for them in Christ, and to glorify God with your life, and enjoy and share the beauty He’s given us in Himself and in His creation, then you are already well on the way to being a Gatekeeper. You’re already marching to the beat of a different drum than the world; keep marching. May we not grow weary.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Divine Laughter
Do you ever think about God’s laughter and sense of humor? Divine humor is fun, colorful, occasionally harsh, always deserved, and not emulated by us nearly enough. If we want to be like Him, we might want to look at what puts a smile on His face and what makes Him laugh.
I imagine that God frequently laughs because of how much fun He has creating things. We all know the joy of little children with play-dough, and the fun things they create. Imagine how much fun God had at creation, and how much fun He still has sustaining His creation. No doubt He chuckled as He made the platypus and the giraffe, or when He decided to make elephants and first watched them trying to mate. He is the Master Artist, brilliant and creative to the extreme, yet mixed a sense of humor and a love of fun that we haven't even begun to understand. I am sure God laughs often, and has been doing so for all eternity. God isn’t a killjoy; He’s the author of joy.
The Bible teaches that God delights to give His children good things. We know how much a loving human father delights in the joy His children receive when opening up a gift, how he laughs and smiles at their innocent pleasure and fulfillment. He jokes with them, plays with them, gives them gifts, and delights to give them a safe, loving environment in which to enjoy themselves.
How much more does God do that? I can only imagine the laughter and smiles God enjoys when a person realizes his or her need for the Cross. Or when His children realize the joy of giving up their rights and dreams for the sake of ministering to others. Or when someone counts the cost of witnessing, and gets to see the faith spread to an unexpected proportion. Or when an engaged couple who are living for Him get to finally enjoy their wedding day and wedding night. Or when a baby is born, and the wonder and splendor of life takes that couple to new heights of love and joy. God delights to surprise His children good gifts, and no doubt He laughs when He sees how beautifully overwhelmed we are at His blessings.
In Genesis, God made Abraham wait until he and his wife were in their retirement years to make their bodies fertile. Abraham and Sarah didn’t deserve it, nor did they even believe it at first when God promised it to them. But when the baby was born, they knew God had been gracious to them, and they were filled with so much joy that they named their son “Laughter”.
Do we laugh enough? Do we let our sense of joy take over our hearts and faces often enough? Proverbs 31 says that it is a virtue to smile at the future. Are we willing to admit we're a little too concerned about the details of life’s myriad situations, both past, present, and future? We ultimately have no control over the path God gives us, yet God has said that He will make everything turn out for good because we love Him. Are we willing to take the adventure that He has for us, not with fretfulness or apprehension, but with courage, joy, and laughter?
You can tell by the time someone is an adult whether they have this mentality. Their smile is imprinted into their face muscles. They are positive and optimistic people, not because everything around them is going right, but because they know that God will do what is right and that He loves them very much.
God surely laughs often simply because of the joy of giving. That is a joy He wants us to share. He says in 2 Corinthians that He wants us to be extremely joyful givers, sharing what we have with those around us out of the overflow of our hearts. How could we not be joyful to give to His work when we see the big picture? I mean, really, think about it:
God thinks those who mock Him are so foolish that they deserve not just judgment, but sarcasm. Psalm 2 says that He laughs at them; He’s “amused at their presumption” and scoffs at them. He connects people’s sins in life with their judgment in eternity and shakes His head in wonder, saying, “Why are you so intent on dying? Are you really that foolish? Are you really that bull-headed that you will jump right off the cliff despite my warnings? Do you not see the irony of how much you act like you love yourself, yet you are actually, in view of eternity, proving that you hate yourself and a glutton for punishment?”
The Scriptures are full of sarcasm, from God’s speech to Job, to God’s mockery of the false gods of Egypt (through the plagues aimed directly at the power of those false gods), to the prophets’ speeches to the nation of Israel, to Christ’s sharp answers to religious hypocrites, to Paul’s blatant name-calling, to the ironies in the final judgment of Revelation.
We will be blown away in eternity at not just what happens there, but at the contrasts between:
When you add it all up, it’s clear that for many reasons, God laughs. Some reasons are glad, and some are sad. But it is ultimate reality: the divine sense of joy and the divine sense of humor has ample room for laughter of all kinds. If you can’t smile at the beauty of life, if you can’t laugh at life and even at yourself sometimes, if you can’t chuckle at the ironies of life and eternity, and if you can’t occasionally enjoy the same kind of sarcasm God does, then you’re missing out on some of the most obvious, colorful, and fun aspects of who God is. So make some jokes. Don’t be afraid of using a little sarcasm (God isn’t afraid to)! Laugh a little! Laugh a lot! God does, and so should we.
I imagine that God frequently laughs because of how much fun He has creating things. We all know the joy of little children with play-dough, and the fun things they create. Imagine how much fun God had at creation, and how much fun He still has sustaining His creation. No doubt He chuckled as He made the platypus and the giraffe, or when He decided to make elephants and first watched them trying to mate. He is the Master Artist, brilliant and creative to the extreme, yet mixed a sense of humor and a love of fun that we haven't even begun to understand. I am sure God laughs often, and has been doing so for all eternity. God isn’t a killjoy; He’s the author of joy.
The Bible teaches that God delights to give His children good things. We know how much a loving human father delights in the joy His children receive when opening up a gift, how he laughs and smiles at their innocent pleasure and fulfillment. He jokes with them, plays with them, gives them gifts, and delights to give them a safe, loving environment in which to enjoy themselves.
How much more does God do that? I can only imagine the laughter and smiles God enjoys when a person realizes his or her need for the Cross. Or when His children realize the joy of giving up their rights and dreams for the sake of ministering to others. Or when someone counts the cost of witnessing, and gets to see the faith spread to an unexpected proportion. Or when an engaged couple who are living for Him get to finally enjoy their wedding day and wedding night. Or when a baby is born, and the wonder and splendor of life takes that couple to new heights of love and joy. God delights to surprise His children good gifts, and no doubt He laughs when He sees how beautifully overwhelmed we are at His blessings.
In Genesis, God made Abraham wait until he and his wife were in their retirement years to make their bodies fertile. Abraham and Sarah didn’t deserve it, nor did they even believe it at first when God promised it to them. But when the baby was born, they knew God had been gracious to them, and they were filled with so much joy that they named their son “Laughter”.
Do we laugh enough? Do we let our sense of joy take over our hearts and faces often enough? Proverbs 31 says that it is a virtue to smile at the future. Are we willing to admit we're a little too concerned about the details of life’s myriad situations, both past, present, and future? We ultimately have no control over the path God gives us, yet God has said that He will make everything turn out for good because we love Him. Are we willing to take the adventure that He has for us, not with fretfulness or apprehension, but with courage, joy, and laughter?
You can tell by the time someone is an adult whether they have this mentality. Their smile is imprinted into their face muscles. They are positive and optimistic people, not because everything around them is going right, but because they know that God will do what is right and that He loves them very much.
God surely laughs often simply because of the joy of giving. That is a joy He wants us to share. He says in 2 Corinthians that He wants us to be extremely joyful givers, sharing what we have with those around us out of the overflow of our hearts. How could we not be joyful to give to His work when we see the big picture? I mean, really, think about it:
- We didn’t even deserve to be a part of God’s plan, to be declared righteous and made worthy. We were given grace upon grace upon grace, even when we didn’t know how desperately we needed it.
- The small sacrifices we make in life are nothing compared to the sacrifice God made for us at the Cross, and yet God chooses to praise us for our sacrifices and to say “Well done” when we’re just doing what servants should do anyway.
- Think of the investment return! What investment on this planet is going to give a one billion percent return or more? Yet the smallest things we do in life for God’s glory, like giving a cup of cold water to someone in need, reap benefits for all eternity.
- We’re not only reaping benefits for eternity, we’re reaping them now, because we know and believe that even our meager offerings—our two pennies or our few loaves and fishes—can be multiplied exponentially by God, right here and now. God does immensely beyond what we could ask or imagine.
- Whether we would see benefits here or in eternity or not, we know that the reason we’re giving at all is because we’ve been set free! We know the power and penalty of sin and the lies it told us when we were slaves to it, and the darkness of the prisons it put us in. And now we’re dancing in the light! We had broken lives, and He made us new. We were once beggars, but now we are free, and showing other beggars where to find the bread. If that is not enough to put joy in your heart and in your voice, nothing is!
God thinks those who mock Him are so foolish that they deserve not just judgment, but sarcasm. Psalm 2 says that He laughs at them; He’s “amused at their presumption” and scoffs at them. He connects people’s sins in life with their judgment in eternity and shakes His head in wonder, saying, “Why are you so intent on dying? Are you really that foolish? Are you really that bull-headed that you will jump right off the cliff despite my warnings? Do you not see the irony of how much you act like you love yourself, yet you are actually, in view of eternity, proving that you hate yourself and a glutton for punishment?”
The Scriptures are full of sarcasm, from God’s speech to Job, to God’s mockery of the false gods of Egypt (through the plagues aimed directly at the power of those false gods), to the prophets’ speeches to the nation of Israel, to Christ’s sharp answers to religious hypocrites, to Paul’s blatant name-calling, to the ironies in the final judgment of Revelation.
We will be blown away in eternity at not just what happens there, but at the contrasts between:
- What people did in life versus what they could have chosen
- The obviousness that we can’t get away with sin to the silliness of how much we tried to
- How much the afflicted will be comforted in eternity versus how much the afflicters will be discomforted
When you add it all up, it’s clear that for many reasons, God laughs. Some reasons are glad, and some are sad. But it is ultimate reality: the divine sense of joy and the divine sense of humor has ample room for laughter of all kinds. If you can’t smile at the beauty of life, if you can’t laugh at life and even at yourself sometimes, if you can’t chuckle at the ironies of life and eternity, and if you can’t occasionally enjoy the same kind of sarcasm God does, then you’re missing out on some of the most obvious, colorful, and fun aspects of who God is. So make some jokes. Don’t be afraid of using a little sarcasm (God isn’t afraid to)! Laugh a little! Laugh a lot! God does, and so should we.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
We are all called
Recently I’ve been thinking about the desperate needs around us, both locally and around the world. I recently heard a Christian talking about how he thought some people are called to the hard ministries, like ministering to those dying of starvation or those without the Bible in their language, and others are not called to that. He also admitted that he liked his comforts too much to even consider going. What he verbalized, I see lived out in the majority of Christians that I observe. Our greatest concerns appear to be what coffee shop our Bible study should meet at next and what Christian concert is coming to town next.
Many of us have recently seen a video online which reminded us of some facts which should spur us to think differently:
And what of getting the Bible and the Gospel message to the world? While we have hundreds of translations and versions in English, 2,393 language groups, comprised of 200 million people, have no Bible in their own language.
At what point do these facts become meaningful enough to us to make us go? Would those people in far-off places mean more to us if we were blood relations? If they lived across the street? Is it “out of sight, out of mind”? Because we don’t have to see their hollow hearts and dying bodies every day, we ignore them?
Would it make a difference if our positions were reversed? If we were the orphans, starving, dying of terrible diseases, and we had a chance to beg someone to come help us? If you were the poor, imprisoned, dying person in a far-off place, without hope, what would you say to someone in our culture, whose main goal is to live a “standard Christian life” in a clean-cut, comfortable, safe environment for the rest of his life? How would you get such a person to have enough compassion on you to believe he can make a difference, and to take steps to do so? How important would your rescue be to you if you were the one dying on the street, orphaned by disease or war, and with many questions about eternity but no answers at all in your language?
Our lives are not ours. We belong to Jesus Christ. We do not call the shots. Our all-consuming passion and mission is to be useful to the Master. He has the resources: what He needs are people who are willing to give up anything to heed the call He gives to all His followers.
Who will go for me? Whom can I send? Here I am, Lord; send me!
The call to follow Christ is a call to give up anything God asks us to—everything, if necessary—for the sake of ministering grace to others and sharing with them the Good News of the cross.
There is no second choice. There are not Christians who are called to serious ministry and those who are not. We are all called to find the darkness around us and shine the light of Christ. We start in our own homes, and go across the street, across the country, and across the world. No matter where we are, we have one uniting cause: people all around us are lost and dying without Christ, and we alone have the message of salvation.
While we are going about our lives, the most pressing needs deserve our greatest attention. A massive wound gets much more attention than a hangnail. Our missing a few meals here or there is not on the same level as the starvation killing thousands each day. And our comfort is not worthy to be compared to the suffering happening on our city streets and all around the world.
When and how did we become so callous that others’ desperate needs became so secondary to our comforts, so disconnected from our purpose in life? At what point did having a quiet, peaceable life, which God asks us to pray for, become equated with living in suburbia and focusing on which coffee shop to visit or which movie to see next?
God has not called us to mediocrity, self-centeredness, or complacency. He has called us to radical obedience and total commitment to reach out in love to the world. Discipleship means following Christ, and it has a cost which must be counted—but which is infinitely worth it.
Proverbs 24:11 says, “Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter.” If it were you or I being led away to slaughter, we would be horrified to think that there were Christians in other countries who were praying for us on Sundays but whose primary thought all week long was about funding their retirement funds so they could take lots of vacations and keeping up on the latest sports scores. We would sit in wonder at the audacity of the contrast. We are a people who care enough to talk about it, yet feel no compulsion to go, as if it’s someone else’s problem and someone else’s call.
If parents were staring out their home’s front window, and saw their daughter being attacked, would they do something to stop it? Of course. What if they got a text message or call from their daughter across town? Of course. How about a state away? Still, yes. How about in another country? Still, yes; parents would do anything to rescue their beloved daughter.
What about a niece? How about a neighbor’s daughter? How about a stranger’s daughter? How far does the example have to be removed for us to justify letting it suddenly become someone else’s problem, and no longer urgent? How often does it have to be reported on the news before we just shrug our shoulders and forget about it? How many years of self-centeredness does it take for us to picture such suffering and just walk away so we can catch up on our Facebook updates before we watch our favorite reality show?
No parent would say, “That’s not my calling to rescue my daughter.” No one would think of it as a special gift or talent. No one would act like it is a difficult sacrifice to go help his or her daughter escape such a situation. It would be understood that it’s a parent’s responsibility, and a parent would be proud to go. It would be an honor and a privilege to sacrifice anything to rescue a daughter in need. Why is it somehow a massive sacrifice we’re unwilling to make when it’s someone else’s daughter? And why are we so short-sighted about the toll the sacrifice will make on our lives when Christ has said that “everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life"?
I will not allow this culture or even the Christian culture to callous me to the needs of the world. I am personally responsible, as all Christians are, to heed the call to reach out those with the most desperate needs. Book clubs and coffee houses and Superbowl parties are not wrong, but if that’s the sum and substance of our outreach, we have missed the boat.
Do we not understand the words? People are starving to death right now. Children are being sold into prostitution this very second. People are dying this instant in groups that still have no Bible.
How can we say this is anyone’s problem but ours—each and every one of ours? How can we turn a blind eye and focus our lives on anything else but those crying out with the deepest needs? If it were you or I, it would be an urgent matter. I will not let it become less than urgent simply because it is someone else’s problem and because it may cost me dearly to reach them. What cost could be too great to pay, especially in light of the great cost God paid--His own Son--to rescue us? If I were a father, I would ask others to be willing to pay any cost to rescue my children if I could not do so myself. It would eat me alive to watch my children be attacked or die of starvation or diseases. No cost is too great to rescue those who are perishing. No cost is too great in light of the cross.
I will not let my privileged status as someone who grew up in a safer, wealthier environment, to allow me to ignore the urgency of others’ plights. I will answer the call. As soon possible, I will go, and until I can go, I will help send others and pray for them, as well as for those to whom they are ministering. And as soon as I am able, I will answer the call that God issues to all of us.
Lord, send me!
Many of us have recently seen a video online which reminded us of some facts which should spur us to think differently:
- There are 13 million orphans around the world.
- 30,000 starve to death every day.
- In the last hour, 1,625 children were forced to live on the streets. 1,667 children died from malnutrition or diseases. 115 children became prostitutes. 257 children were orphaned because of AIDS.
- Half the world’s population live on less than $2 each day.
- There are approximately 100,000 missionaries working in the world today. About 3% work among the unreached.
And what of getting the Bible and the Gospel message to the world? While we have hundreds of translations and versions in English, 2,393 language groups, comprised of 200 million people, have no Bible in their own language.
At what point do these facts become meaningful enough to us to make us go? Would those people in far-off places mean more to us if we were blood relations? If they lived across the street? Is it “out of sight, out of mind”? Because we don’t have to see their hollow hearts and dying bodies every day, we ignore them?
Would it make a difference if our positions were reversed? If we were the orphans, starving, dying of terrible diseases, and we had a chance to beg someone to come help us? If you were the poor, imprisoned, dying person in a far-off place, without hope, what would you say to someone in our culture, whose main goal is to live a “standard Christian life” in a clean-cut, comfortable, safe environment for the rest of his life? How would you get such a person to have enough compassion on you to believe he can make a difference, and to take steps to do so? How important would your rescue be to you if you were the one dying on the street, orphaned by disease or war, and with many questions about eternity but no answers at all in your language?
Our lives are not ours. We belong to Jesus Christ. We do not call the shots. Our all-consuming passion and mission is to be useful to the Master. He has the resources: what He needs are people who are willing to give up anything to heed the call He gives to all His followers.
Who will go for me? Whom can I send? Here I am, Lord; send me!
The call to follow Christ is a call to give up anything God asks us to—everything, if necessary—for the sake of ministering grace to others and sharing with them the Good News of the cross.
There is no second choice. There are not Christians who are called to serious ministry and those who are not. We are all called to find the darkness around us and shine the light of Christ. We start in our own homes, and go across the street, across the country, and across the world. No matter where we are, we have one uniting cause: people all around us are lost and dying without Christ, and we alone have the message of salvation.
While we are going about our lives, the most pressing needs deserve our greatest attention. A massive wound gets much more attention than a hangnail. Our missing a few meals here or there is not on the same level as the starvation killing thousands each day. And our comfort is not worthy to be compared to the suffering happening on our city streets and all around the world.
When and how did we become so callous that others’ desperate needs became so secondary to our comforts, so disconnected from our purpose in life? At what point did having a quiet, peaceable life, which God asks us to pray for, become equated with living in suburbia and focusing on which coffee shop to visit or which movie to see next?
God has not called us to mediocrity, self-centeredness, or complacency. He has called us to radical obedience and total commitment to reach out in love to the world. Discipleship means following Christ, and it has a cost which must be counted—but which is infinitely worth it.
Proverbs 24:11 says, “Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter.” If it were you or I being led away to slaughter, we would be horrified to think that there were Christians in other countries who were praying for us on Sundays but whose primary thought all week long was about funding their retirement funds so they could take lots of vacations and keeping up on the latest sports scores. We would sit in wonder at the audacity of the contrast. We are a people who care enough to talk about it, yet feel no compulsion to go, as if it’s someone else’s problem and someone else’s call.
If parents were staring out their home’s front window, and saw their daughter being attacked, would they do something to stop it? Of course. What if they got a text message or call from their daughter across town? Of course. How about a state away? Still, yes. How about in another country? Still, yes; parents would do anything to rescue their beloved daughter.
What about a niece? How about a neighbor’s daughter? How about a stranger’s daughter? How far does the example have to be removed for us to justify letting it suddenly become someone else’s problem, and no longer urgent? How often does it have to be reported on the news before we just shrug our shoulders and forget about it? How many years of self-centeredness does it take for us to picture such suffering and just walk away so we can catch up on our Facebook updates before we watch our favorite reality show?
No parent would say, “That’s not my calling to rescue my daughter.” No one would think of it as a special gift or talent. No one would act like it is a difficult sacrifice to go help his or her daughter escape such a situation. It would be understood that it’s a parent’s responsibility, and a parent would be proud to go. It would be an honor and a privilege to sacrifice anything to rescue a daughter in need. Why is it somehow a massive sacrifice we’re unwilling to make when it’s someone else’s daughter? And why are we so short-sighted about the toll the sacrifice will make on our lives when Christ has said that “everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life"?
I will not allow this culture or even the Christian culture to callous me to the needs of the world. I am personally responsible, as all Christians are, to heed the call to reach out those with the most desperate needs. Book clubs and coffee houses and Superbowl parties are not wrong, but if that’s the sum and substance of our outreach, we have missed the boat.
Do we not understand the words? People are starving to death right now. Children are being sold into prostitution this very second. People are dying this instant in groups that still have no Bible.
How can we say this is anyone’s problem but ours—each and every one of ours? How can we turn a blind eye and focus our lives on anything else but those crying out with the deepest needs? If it were you or I, it would be an urgent matter. I will not let it become less than urgent simply because it is someone else’s problem and because it may cost me dearly to reach them. What cost could be too great to pay, especially in light of the great cost God paid--His own Son--to rescue us? If I were a father, I would ask others to be willing to pay any cost to rescue my children if I could not do so myself. It would eat me alive to watch my children be attacked or die of starvation or diseases. No cost is too great to rescue those who are perishing. No cost is too great in light of the cross.
I will not let my privileged status as someone who grew up in a safer, wealthier environment, to allow me to ignore the urgency of others’ plights. I will answer the call. As soon possible, I will go, and until I can go, I will help send others and pray for them, as well as for those to whom they are ministering. And as soon as I am able, I will answer the call that God issues to all of us.
Lord, send me!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
To sit in His presence
What a blessing to simply sit in His presence and be still, to push out the noise of the world and listen to the Holy Spirit instead. I've always loved turning out all the lights and sitting on the floor with lit candles spread out around me, enough for me to be able to read Scripture. We quiet our hearts before Him, and sing songs to Him.
We ask Him to teach us. We learn that prayer is not as much about talking to God, but learning to listen; not as much about presenting our desires before Him, but aligning our desires with His will and the wisdom of His plan. We learn to stop striving, as if our plans, anxieties, and concerns were really all that they seem to be at first glance.
We look deeper, and find God leading us to quiet waters, teaching us to trust Him, to be patient, and to let Him give and take away as He sees fit. We learn obedience through suffering, and in quiet contemplation, we learn to see that suffering as infinitely worth it.
We begin to see the needs of the world as we imagine others all over the planet sitting around a campfire, or maybe by candlelight, as we are, asking God for food or security, or perhaps simply crying tears of grief to Him. And we see God crying tears over them, too, so we learn to cry tears for others as well. And we begin to beg Him to use us to wash their feet and carry their burdens.
We quiet our hearts and let eternity resonate into our thoughts. We focus on the Cross and see that it is so much more important than we act like it is in our daily lives. We cry out for transcendence.
We focus on our sin, and see that it is so much more horrifying than we will admit; our sin begins to truly disgust us, as it disgusts God. We begin to beg the Lord to deliver us from the hell of our own selfishness. We ask God to "make us holy, whatever it takes."
We listen, and discover that we need to listen better, and more often. We learn to put our hands over our mouths, and simply become students--disciples--of Christ. We ask for the way of wisdom, admitting that our own way has failed us. We ask for humility, so we might see ourselves correctly.
We ask for insight, so we might think clearly and translate our beliefs into a fortified worldview. We ask for a vision, to see God move us where He would have us go. We ask for openness, so that we will be truly willing and eager to obey His will. We ask for open doors, because we long to show the other beggars where we, who were once beggars ourselves, have found the bread.
We ask for protection, so that our faith would be strong. We ask for increasing intimacy with our loving Creator, that we might embrace what existence is ultimately all about. And we ask for the increasing ability to rest ourselves in Him, so that we might come back to these times of refreshing over and over again, for our delight, His glory, and simply because we truly long to be near Him, and to offer our gratitude to Him for the great things He has done.
We ask Him to teach us. We learn that prayer is not as much about talking to God, but learning to listen; not as much about presenting our desires before Him, but aligning our desires with His will and the wisdom of His plan. We learn to stop striving, as if our plans, anxieties, and concerns were really all that they seem to be at first glance.
We look deeper, and find God leading us to quiet waters, teaching us to trust Him, to be patient, and to let Him give and take away as He sees fit. We learn obedience through suffering, and in quiet contemplation, we learn to see that suffering as infinitely worth it.
We begin to see the needs of the world as we imagine others all over the planet sitting around a campfire, or maybe by candlelight, as we are, asking God for food or security, or perhaps simply crying tears of grief to Him. And we see God crying tears over them, too, so we learn to cry tears for others as well. And we begin to beg Him to use us to wash their feet and carry their burdens.
We quiet our hearts and let eternity resonate into our thoughts. We focus on the Cross and see that it is so much more important than we act like it is in our daily lives. We cry out for transcendence.
We focus on our sin, and see that it is so much more horrifying than we will admit; our sin begins to truly disgust us, as it disgusts God. We begin to beg the Lord to deliver us from the hell of our own selfishness. We ask God to "make us holy, whatever it takes."
We listen, and discover that we need to listen better, and more often. We learn to put our hands over our mouths, and simply become students--disciples--of Christ. We ask for the way of wisdom, admitting that our own way has failed us. We ask for humility, so we might see ourselves correctly.
We ask for insight, so we might think clearly and translate our beliefs into a fortified worldview. We ask for a vision, to see God move us where He would have us go. We ask for openness, so that we will be truly willing and eager to obey His will. We ask for open doors, because we long to show the other beggars where we, who were once beggars ourselves, have found the bread.
We ask for protection, so that our faith would be strong. We ask for increasing intimacy with our loving Creator, that we might embrace what existence is ultimately all about. And we ask for the increasing ability to rest ourselves in Him, so that we might come back to these times of refreshing over and over again, for our delight, His glory, and simply because we truly long to be near Him, and to offer our gratitude to Him for the great things He has done.
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