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“She Just Quit” November 17, 2006

On the heels of "An Island Never Cries" and "Jesus Christ, Lord of Empathy," I'm ending the week with another writer's work. An anonymous commenter at Milton Stanley's blog Transforming Sermons clued me in on Steven Clark Goad's "She Just Quit." I offer it to you as fodder for thinking. This Sunday, as you gather with others in your church, ask yourself who might be a Barbara Smith.

Again, read the whole thing. And God help us if we're not in tears by the time we read the last sentence.

Benevolence, Christianity in North America, Church Issues, Community, Godly Character, Hospitality, Love

Jesus Christ, Lord of Empathy November 16, 2006

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.
—Romans 12:15 ESV

I buried my parents four months apart. Losing any parent hits too close to home, but losing them so close together only amplifies the grief.

Recently, I heard that someone we know, a person much younger than me, lost parents close together. Sitting here now, that kind of grief rises up again. I know exactly how that person feels. You're cut loose. The world seems emptier and disconnected. I know that feeling because I've been there.

As I mature in the Lord, I realize that no one gets a pass. You can't walk around this planet long before you experience death, illness, betrayal, loss, and a host of other pains. Like ticks, painful realities cling to us and sap our vital energies. A sheep so afflicted can't remove the tick on its own.

And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."
—Matthew 9:35-38 ESV

We Evangelicals can't cede the humanity of Jesus Christ to the mainline churches. We do a fine job of making Jesus the Christ, the Lord of All, but we tend to forget Jesus gave up His place beside the Father to take on flesh and the subsequent misery of the helpless sheep He came to save.

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, [Jesus] himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.
—Hebrews 2:14-18 ESV

We don't hear too much about Jesus our Brother in Evangelical circles, an incalculable loss. Jesus' humanity drew people. They knew they could approach Him. He wasn't distant and removed, but walked among us, giving His life away, serving others.

He did this because at the core of who He was beat a heart of empathy. The very act of incarnation forever linked the Son of God with the people He created. Incarnation embodies empathy for others. And Jesus not only displayed that empathy by taking on flesh, but by fully becoming one of us, emotions and all:

Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. And he said, "Where have you laid him?" They said to him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus wept. So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!"
—John 11:32-36 ESV

For those of us who bear the image of Christ, empathy for our fellow men—be they believers or not—should permeate the core of who we are. Jesus felt Mary and Martha's loss. The loss of a friend drove Him to tears. Even though He fully understood He could raise Lazarus from the dead, Jesus still showed empathy. His lesson? No one, not even the Christ, should ever walk away from another's pain.

People who call themselves Christians, but who so readily tear into another person, display little of Christ's empathy. Our lives should always be lived with one eye on what it means to be someone else. Ultimately, Jesus, the Lord of the Universe, did the same by becoming a man.

His empathy compels us to treat a man as if you or I were in his shoes. That empathy drives The Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (Luke 6:31 rephrasing). Only then can we humbly dispense grace to those who so desperately need it.

Lastly, the empathetic nature of God shows in one final verse:

We love because he first loved us. If anyone says, "I love God," and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother.
—1 John 4:19-21 ESV

Empathy for others proves itself when we say we love God, and vice versa. The relationship between our love of God and our love for others cannot be severed, for empathy drives it.

As we roll into Thanksgiving and Christmas, step into someone else's life. This isn't a call to overlook sin and how it leads to the shattered lives of people around us, only that we show empathy first. You and I have no idea what kind of living hell a person's been through. Better that we empathize with him or her first because we ourselves went through our own hell. Without Christ we'd all still be living that hell right now. Lead with that empathetic love. Feel someone else's pain and truly mean it.

Christ felt ours all the way to the cross.

Benevolence, Church Issues, Community, Dying to Self, Empathetic, Empathy, Godhead, Godly Character, Jesus Christ, Love, Pain, Relevance, Suffering

An Island Never Cries November 15, 2006

Our pastor and his wife called in the afternoon and wanted to know what we were doing tonight. The elders meeting was canceled (soybean harvest is running late), so they had a free night. They brought a couple pizzas, and we hung out and laughed.

Earlier in the day, I read this sobering report posted at Christianity Today Online:

As of 2004, the average American had just two close friends, compared with three in 1985. Those reporting no confidants at all jumped from 10 percent to 25 percent. Even the share of Americans reporting a healthy circle of four or five friends had plunged from 33 percent to just over 15 percent.

Increasingly, those whom we consider close friends—if we have any—are household members, not people who "bind us to community and neighborhood." Our wider social connections seem to be shriveling like a turkey left too long in the oven.

"You usually don't expect major features of social life to change very much from year to year or even decade to decade," Smith-Lovin, a sociologist at Duke University, told the news media.

Some may contend that the trend is no big deal, because the population is growing older and more racially diverse, and these demographic groups usually have smaller networks where friendships form. However, the nation's increasing level of education, the study says, should more than offset those factors (because, it argues, education often brings more social contacts). Yet our isolation has increased, leaving us at higher risk for a host of physical, social, and psychological ailments.

The article concludes by asking us Christians to make an effort to befriend the unchurched.

Amen.

But just as friendless people exist among the unchurched, the pews of our churches fill up on Sunday with the lonely. Some duck in and slink out without talking with anyone. Perhaps they don't want to talk, or perhaps they do and we just don't notice them. Either way, it's a tragedy.

We've been talking about community in the last couple weeks, and the topic won't let go of my heart. How sad that so many people don't feel a part of a healthy community. Like the CT article pointed out, our social networks have unraveled. And as I've said in recent posts, that only furthers an island mentality in people that eventually shuts everyone out and thinks the better for it.

And a rock feels no pain;

And an island never cries. *

In your church and mine, sheep have wandered away from the fold. Jesus beseeched us to go get them. I used to think that had something to do with blatant sin in the missing sheep's life, but now I understand how easy it is to drift away for no other reason than people simply forget that sheep was ever there.

It's going to cost us something if we reach out the lonely and isolated. We may not get to do what we want each night of the week. We may have a little less private time. We might have to pick up the restaurant check. But the Kingdom of God pays dividends, so that whatever's spent returns ten, fifty, and hundredfold. We get back more than what we give, especially when we pour grace into the lives of lonely people. What a powerful revelation to hear someone say, "In the midst of my loneliness, when I thought no one cared, you were there for me." Do you think a person like that would be more open to hearing the truth of Jesus' Gospel? Or to desire to grow in true discipleship?

If in a given year, each Christian in this country befriended one overlooked person in his/her church and one person outside the church, how incredible would the return be? Not only for us, but for those lonely people?

Our isolation dampens what Christ can do through us. He came to serve others. His example of reaching out to the prostitute, the tax collector, and the other lonely people should stir us. The party is bigger than we are.

Can't we do this? Just two people a year?

I'm more than ready to. 

Alone, Benevolence, Boldness, Christianity in North America, Church Issues, Community, Friends, Friendship, Godly Character, Grace, Hospitality, Loneliness, Lonely, Love

The Best Letter You’ll Write This Week November 14, 2006

Remember letters?

When I was younger, I had a reputation as an encouraging letter writer. When you're a guy, that's high praise because men in the 1980s were not know for their letter-writing skills.

Sure, guys love e-mail. Invent a techno-gadget and men will find a way to incorporate it into the simplest activity. Getting a piece of paper and a pen out to write a letter causes brave men to weaken in the knees. On the other hand, spend five minutes waiting for a computer to boot up, wade through the new e-mails, start a new one, spend a couple minutes re-reading it, run the spell-check, wait while Microsoft automatically downloads a new system update that bogs you down, and send.

Ah, technology! But that's the way men like it. As for women, they'll still handwrite a note, so it's not them I worry about.

The best letter you'll write this week will be the old-fashioned kind. Dig out some stationery, find a pen that still works, and write a note to your pastor telling him you appreciate his hard work and dedication.  Ask him if he has any prayer concerns you can pray for. Write out a small prayer for him as a conclusion to your handwritten letter. Put in envelope. Write out address. Affix stamp. Mail.

Be blessed to be a blessing. 

Benevolence, encouragement, Godly Character, letters, Pastor, Pastors

Politics, Economics, and the American Church November 13, 2006