Risk

In the Midst of the Borderlands

A Place for Pain, Current Events, Risk, We The Church View all 3 comments

Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice.

Three black men who lost their lives at the hands of white policemen.

I have been so heavy-hearted lately over these stories. The night that the decision in the Mike Brown case was announced, I was up for hours watching live coverage of Ferguson- -heartbroken for the people this decision was directly affecting. Hurting for Mike Brown’s family as the still very tender wound of losing a son was ripped open again in the public eye. Wondering what it must be like for black Americans. Wondering what the grand jury members were feeling and thinking that night. Wondering what the spouses and children of officers must be feeling as they send them out to a city of people who see them as the enemy. Wondering what one is supposed to do in the face of such fear and anger and hurt. Wondering and praying.

Now,  do I have opinions about all of this? Absolutely. Are they well informed opinions? Probably not well-enough informed. Right, wrong, lawful, unlawful, an issue of race or of criminal behavior? These things need to be addressed, but in the proper setting, which this particular blog (and many other blogs, that have attempted anyways) is not.

These are the borderlands of “Bedrocks and Borderlands”. There are foundational truths(bedrocks) that we set ground ourselves in as we navigate the challenging terrain before us (borderlands).  I want to take a look at the bedrock and borderland issues before us.

Bedrocks:

-All people were created in the image of God and are intrinsically valuable as a result.

-God, as the supreme creative One, made people to be different. Different gifts, passions, personalities, skin color.

-People were created to live in perfect unity with one another and with God.

-Sin destroyed that unity.

-Later, human arrogance prompted God to confuse language and the physical divide became greater (the spiritual divide is a far as it will ever be).

-Christ made a way for us to be reconciled to God and one another.

-If we know Christ, we are His ambassadors and are tasked with the ministry of reconciliation.

-Because we live in the space between already being justified, but not yet being fully sanctified, carrying out that ministry is difficult.

–All authority rests on His shoulders.

-All truth belongs to God.

Borderlands:

-There is a racial divide in our country.

-There is an imperfect governing system.

-There are countless news sources feeding us different angles and sometimes different stories all together.

-There is the internet and social media, which means anyone, anywhere can share their opinion with the entire world in seconds.

-There are people that are hurting and terrified on both sides of the wall. 

Now, the question becomes, how do the bedrocks help us navigate the borderlands?

If all people are intrinsically valuable because they are made in the image of God, then how we treat and view people needs to change. It is one thing for someone who doesn’t know Christ to live in the world of division but as Christ-followers, we have no excuse. Christ came to reconcile. He gave us the ministry of reconciliation. If our words and actions are speaking into the division rather than speaking into unity, then we are ignoring the blood of Christ. Arrogance caused the division. And arrogance will continue to divide.

If all authority rests on God’s shoulders, then even in a country where the government is self-seeking, or making choices that we don’t agree with, we can trust God. People are broken (sin, remember?). No President, no Mayor, no officer of the law will ever be able to bring peace. They will never be able to even hold up the law they put in place, much less the laws of God. I can’t. You can’t. None of us can. So, when governments make poor choices, even evil choices, when grand juries make decisions we feel are wrong, when we feel oppressed or afraid because of government, when we do our best to govern rightly and people hate us, we trust God.

When we hear reports on the news, flip the channel and hear a different report, surf the internet and find yet another contradicting story, we don’t believe everything we hear. We don’t trust one news source. If we really want to know the facts, we search for them rather than letting them be spoon fed to us. And when we can’t get to the bottom of things, we thank God that what we can’t figure out, He already knows.

And when we can’t get to the bottom of things, we don’t parade around as though we have. Yes, it is easy to voice our opinions and the world of social media has opened the door for everyone to be a lawyer, journalist, jury, etc. But, just because we CAN share our opinions doesn’t mean we should.

When people are hurting and afraid, what is the proper response? Empathy and compassion. More listening than talking.

I’m not suggesting we compromise truth, but I am suggesting that maybe we don’t have a full enough grasp on the situation at large to fully understand truth. And, I am suggesting that even if we do have a good grasp on truth, it doesn’t excuse us from treating people with dignity. We should be moving toward each other but instead, we are drawing lines in the sand and demanding that people pick sides.

As adults, we have a  responsibility to teach the next generation. I can tell you from my own experience and from observing the experiences of many others, that if the only time parents and adults talk about people who are not like them is in a political context, then what our kids will hear is hate and fear. If we are not intentional about stepping into community with people who look, think, and live differently than us, than our kids will not learn to love. And if we think we don’t have a problem with race, or other differences, then I would suggest that, possibly, it is because we have moved into an area of town where we don’t have to be confronted with it. If that is the case, then it may be that we have a huge problem but have set our lives up in a way where we can ignore our sin rather than deal with it.

Perhaps, rather than weigh in on if the officers were right or wrong, if black communities need to deal with the way they treat each other instead, if people are responding correctly in circumstances, we should listen to understand. Perhaps we should cry with each other. Perhaps we should step into hurting communities ready to help restore. Perhaps we should consider if our faith or our fear is informing our lives.

Can You Hear Me Now?

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I recently had the chance to sit down with a friend for more than five minutes, which is unfortunately rare these days. As we sipped coffee outside a Starbucks, our conversation slowly weaved it’s way from the atmosphere, quality people-watching, life-catching up, to some deep aches that weighed heavy.

We are lonely. Here’s the thing. We know lots of people. Lots of people seem to like us and we like a lot of people. And yet, somehow, in all of that mutual liking, there seemed to be little genuine connection.

Just a few days before this conversation, I’d spoken with another friend who was feeling similarly. She had been in a church for a few years and made every effort to be highly involved, get to know the other church members. So many knew her and liked her, but yet, she didn’t feel connected to anyone. And here’s the thing, all three of us are single.

It could be just a coincidence and have no real bearing on the subject. On one hand, I think it must. Surely there are married people feeling just as disconnected as we have been feeling.

As my coffee friend and I continued baring our lonely hearts, a question began rising in my mind. In the Church, are we really hearing each other?

This question came about as my friend and I shared about how often in our lives we had asked for help. We had asked people to walk with us through something, to allow us to learn from their lives, to do life along with us. Sometimes, it was a sin issue that had a grip we couldn’t loose on our own and our requests for help were met with platitudes and prayers but no purposeful movement into the mess of our lives. At times, it was that we saw something in someone who was a bit further down the road and we wanted to learn from them, to be like them because they were like Christ. And instead of an invitation to walk beside them and learn about them, we were handed a book or Bible study. Other moments, we just needed company. Needed to be seen. And we were met with impersonal invitations to be where everyone was welcome.

This situations left more scars than they offered healing. But, it isn’t even that we were mad about how things had turned out, we just were…are at a loss of how to keep asking when we feel unheard.

So, I have been wondering. Are we hearing each other? I used to think that the problem was that people are afraid to ask for help. And I still think, that at one point, that was the problem. And as the Church, we began to encourage people how to reach out and ask for help. But did we ever equip people to respond to that hurt? Besides giving them language to form an immediate response, did we really equip and challenge them to step into someone else’s world?  And what keeps us from stepping in? What is holding us back from walking through pain or sin struggles with our brothers and sisters? Why are we so quick to squish “mentoring” and “discipleship” into a structured Bible Study? What keeps us from acknowledging and helping to fight the lies of loneliness in someone’s life?

My guess is fear. And rest assured I am standing with you on both side of the fear. I am crying out for help and failing at hearing those who are crying out for help from me. Here is what I know…Helping someone beat a stronghold is messy and it most likely will hurt anyone who steps in. Allowing someone to get close enough to learn about how we deal with our own pain and hurt in life, how we rejoice and how we respond when we screw up, means they are going to see our failures and maybe we fail more than we succeed. That is terrifying. Loving someone out of loneliness might mean we have to give up our own time, might mean we have to include people even when we aren’t sure what to talk about or if they will even click with the people we are bringing along. It might mean awkward conversations or even worse, awkward silence because we just don’t know what to say.

But what are we missing out on because we are so afraid? It isn’t just the struggler, the disciple, the lonely one who is missing out. When we let fear stop us from getting our hands messy in relationship, we miss out too.

Consider all the times Jesus reached into the mess. He stopped a funeral and reached into the death to bring a young man back to life. He touched lepers. He dug up the dirt around the feet of blind beggars to set them on the road to healing. He gathered a scraggly bunch of guys and invited them to follow him and learn, even to watch his greatest moments of heartache. One of those guys betrayed him to his death. One was always sticking his foot in his mouth. One was always trying to one up everybody and be the favorite. How many times did Jesus weep with people or go out of his way just for one person…one conversation? Jesus came to reconcile us to God. And according to 2 Corinthians 5:16-21, we have been given the ministry of reconciliation. We have become ambassadors for Christ. Ambassadors are meant to make decisions as though they have the mind of the one whom they represent. What would cause them to do otherwise? Fear.

But we have no need for fear. Our God is bigger than that. So let’s learn to hear one another. Let’s brave the mess, brave the baring of our own messy lives, brave the awkward moments. I’m confident that if we do, we will all discover life like we have never known.

Risky Prayer: Not A Shoreline In Sight

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“Be careful what you pray.”

It’s a sentiment I’ve heard passed on time and again. It’s a sentiment I’ve half-jokingly spouted in a conversation about patience and the frustrating process of being sanctified in such a lack thereof.

And woven into those quippy words is a subtle, deadly lie.

All of this began percolating in my mind about 3 months or so ago. You see, I’d been singing Hillsong’s “Oceans” for months on end and whenever I sang it, the words and melody mingled together into a passionate prayer wafting up to heaven like the temple incense of the days of Moses. I meant every word of that melodic prayer with every fiber of my being. I wanted more faith. I wanted to be led to places I would never go on my own. And I believed that the Spirit would take me on unforgettable journeys that would be terrifying but incredible.

I knew in the midst of that prayer that there was great risk involved, that what I was asking would probably be answered and I would probably have days I wanted to swallow that song deep into my throat rather that proclaim it boldly. But, honestly, the fear I knew I was risking, couldn’t hold a candle to the reality of the answer I am walking in.

You see, I’m living in the middle of that ocean I was asking to be led out into. Trust without boarders…I had no idea. Honestly, I couldn’t wrap my mind around what that might mean until I found myself here. I’ve been out on the ocean before, but I’ve always been able to see at least one shore…one border. But, now, I’m smack dab in the middle of the Pacific. There is no shoreline in sight….only water. And I can keep trusting and walking, or I can drown.

Suddenly, my mind has wandered to that movie, Open Water, where the tourists get left behind on a deep sea diving excursion…never saw it. I have no desire to watch a movie like that. But I remember the previews. I remember the knot in my stomach as the vivid images stirred an already fear in me about oceans and isolation *(heebeejeebees)*.

But the truth is, I haven’t been forgotten and left behind. I don’t have to figure out how to survive out here. I was led here…I prayed for this. The Holy Spirit has led me to a place where there is nothing for me to hold onto but the hand of God. And He holds me by my right hand…The Bible tells me so.

But I found myself thinking on all of this reality the other day and the craziness of it all. All the little crevices of my faith where the enemy can wedge in a lie…and he will, anywhere he can. Isolation. The impossibility of provision. Lack of survival skills. All of this slicing into me as the spiritual world wages war around me. And that evil little thought, feigning as innocent, crept in. “Well, be careful what you pray for.” But immediately, The Spirit leapt up in me in protest. Those words that I’d uttered so many times….that had fallen on my ears so many times, suddenly turned to ash in my mouth.

There is death wrapped up in them. Be careful what you pray for? We offer it as a warning. Do not pray for patience because the Lord will give you a chance to learn it. Do not pray for more faith, you will be tested. WHAT?! Why would we ever suggest that someone not pray for these things.

Is it scary to pray for sanctification? Abso-stinkin-lutely. Will it be hard, maybe even seem impossible, when God brings you to the answer. Almost certainly. But, it is worth it. I experience days where it seems I will never feel the surety of solid ground beneath my feet again. There are days where the storm rolls in and waves crash up over my head and I’m certain I will drown. But there are more days where the shimmer of the glass seas sparkle all around me and I am overwhelmed with the kindness of a God who creates such beautiful moments. There are more days when I remember that I have prayed to see the middle of this ocean for years and my Lord has worked all things together for my good and in the fullness of time. There are more days when I notice that my legs are stronger from learning to walk on the inconsistent waters. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I don’t want to take back any of my prayers. I don’t want to go back to what I know. I want to keep walking out here, wherever the Spirit leads. Eventually, as we walk, the shore will come into sight again. There will be a time when this current ocean will lead me to ease once again….the tide will carry me to comfort. And when that happens, I will pray once more, “Spirit lead me where my faith is without borders…”

And as I consider the students I have the joy of loving and teaching, I am overwhelmed with compulsion to teach them not to be careful what they pray, but rather to risk it all in prayer. Pray with every ounce of faith you can muster, and beg for more. Then, keep praying as you wait and follow. You will find a day when God has answered your risky prayers and you aren’t sure you will survive His answer. But you will. You will not only survive but you will find more life than you have ever dreamt of knowing.

If you aren’t sure how to pray with so much boldness, then let the songs of worship we sing become your prayers. It is often easier to pray scary prayers when they are accompanied by the harmonies of God’s people.