In Dave's Words

According to Matthew 7 it’s possible that we could one day show up in Heaven, after living a life that revives the church and transforms the world, and still have God look at me and say, “I’m sorry…what’s your name again? I don’t know you.”

Apparently…many will get there one day and say… “Wait a minute…we preached in your name…we cast out demons in your name…and we preformed miracles in your name.” But He will reply with… “I never knew you.”

It’s so easy to confuse work for God with walking with God. Its so tempting to seek the work of His hands and not the glory of His face. I’m guilty of the dangerous subtlety of paying attention to the work of God while ignoring Him.

The fear that one day He will look at me and say, “Sorry…what’s your name again?” drives me to my knee in the pursuit of intimacy with Him. I guess that is the most healthy fear possible.

There are so many possible responses when we are confronted with the reality of Jesus Christ. Since he walked on the dust he created, people have either been drawn to him or repelled by him. In the first of four accounts of his birth Matthew makes a point of talking about the scholars who travelled from the east to find the new King. Matthew doesn’t really tell us much about this band of scholars, other than they were scholars and they were from the east…at place known for mystical and strange philosophies.

I love what these eastern academics say was the purpose of their pilgrimage. Even though their very occupation would suggest that the reason they headed west was to study the reason for the strangely bright star, they state that their mission was to worship him. For those who make their living out of thinking, the reason for this trip was to worship. They didn’t come to understand, but to worship. The Message states it this way, “We’re on a pilgrimage to worship him.”

What a great statement of life’s mission. We are on a pilgrimage to worship him. The reality of Jesus has been studied long before and long after he was here. People still try to understand who he was, examine that words he spoke, ponder if he was more than a wise man or religious figure. He has been studied, examined, and scrutinized.  His words have been parsed, interpreted, contextualized, and applied. However, he was really meant to be worshiped. This life is meant to be a pilgrimage of worship.

With our songs, prayers, art, time and treasure we are on a pilgrimage to worship him. With our actions and lifestyle we are a pilgrimage to worship him. Whether we dig ditches, drive a taxi, or pour concrete we are a pilgrimage to worship him. Whether we manage people, teach university students or perform brain surgery, we are on a pilgrimage to worship him. Waking up each day on this pilgrimage brings purpose to everything we put our hands and hearts to.  

Combine passion, focus and zeal with only slightly misappropriated leadership and you can so quickly have contemporary Pharisees and legalism. Any time we take our experiences and perspectives and turn them into formulas or expectations for other people, we take over the role of the Holy Spirit in the lives of other people…all-the-while using our interpretation of scripture as justification.  There is a razor fine line between using the gift of prophesy, holding out the expectations of God, and turning it into today’s version of Pharisees, prescribing how to live out God’s expectations.

Any time we encounter a persuasive and charismatic leader who has applied scripture (to their context) in a way that looks like success, the first thing we do is try to copy their extra-biblical actions in the same way they did. Out of a very right motive to be effective, we very wrongly make a formula out of our experiences or that of others. And the moment we do that, we assume the role of the Holy Spirit. When something “works” for us, we then presume to prescribe how much money people should give, how people should use their time, how people should pray or worship, who people should spend their time with, how to raise their children and the list could go on and on. You can smell a Pharisee a mile away by the stench of constant criticism on their lips.   

The problem goes waaayyy back. Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, “The teachers of religious law and the Pharisees are the official interpreters of the law of Moses. So practice and obey whatever they tell you, but don’t follow their example. For they don’t practice what they teach. They crush people with unbearable religious demands and never lift a finger to ease the burden. (Matt 23)

Do we as leaders trust the power of the Holy Spirit in the lives of other followers? Do I really think that He really needs me to change the hearts of people who are not living the way I think they should live? Am I that full of pride that I think I can talk or convince people to change? Am I that self-centered that I don’t assume that the Holy Spirit is working in people on issues that He wants to change rather than behavior that I think they should change? Wouldn’t I be a lot more free and void of unnecessary stress if I really trusted that the Holy Spirit is doing a fine job of changing people without my help in my time?

Unfortunately for me…and those around me…I relate a whole lot more to the religious leaders than the woman at the well; to that oldest son instead of the prodigal. I am terrified at the thought, after a career of “ministry”, to one day hear, “I never knew you.” (Matt 7) I suppose that it’s a good fear.

In our comfort and certainty obsessed generation, I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes followers of Christ different from the rest of our generally polite and benevolent North American culture. I’ve been asking myself, if someone watched me for a few days would they confidently peg me as a Christ follower?

I grew up in a religious sub-culture that taught me that I would be noted as “Christian” because of what I didn’t participate in. If I didn’t swear, smoke, or drink and tried really hard to act as nice as possible, I would be “letting my little light shine”. The goal seemed to be getting through life, or at least my teen years, as “sinless” as possible. The result? I’m still a recovering Pharisee.

So now… 20 years later what is it that I now think makes a follower of Christ different from other nice, law-abiding citizens? Here it is! Get ready for it!

Love.

Yup…love…that’s it. Strikingly and seemingly not so spiritually profound. To be clear, I’m not talking about a “run of the mill” kind of love. Anyone with a heartbeat can love; and I would surmise that EVERY religion espouses “love” as a hallmark of what they preach and teach in some way. So then…why would I say that love is what separates authentic Christ-followers from everyone else?

Extra-ordinary love produces extra-ordinary love-ers. Even within the limits of my ability to comprehend and describe, extravagant, non-reciprocated and truly unconditional mercy is not the kind of  common “love” I’m referring to. Parents love their children, husbands love their wives, people can even “love” their jobs, holidays, coffee and ice-cream. We “love” all of these because of what we receive from them. And while the limits of our common love can be deep and wide (as for our children), at some point, once we stop receiving long enough, we will stop loving. God loves completely different to this; for as long as I draw breath I will never be able to understand why or how. I can only do my best to experience this love and thereby dispense this love. I can only hope that the more I experience it, the more I can live it. The more I try to find words to type to explain or express this love, the less I find myself typing.

So…when it comes to the matter of how I am different from other nice people the simple answer becomes…not so simple. People will know I am His when I love like Him. Not perfectly of course, but hopefully more and more like Him. The more my life and my love isn’t conditional upon what I receive from people, the more I extend mercy to those who let me down again, the more my acts of service are not done to elicit a similar response, the more I give without the expectation of even feeling fulfilled by the giving, the more I serve knowing I will not be served in return, the more I spend myself on those who are the least to me, the more I will give off the fragrance that followed Jesus.          

Do you really want to know if you are Christ-like? Take this little test and honestly evaluate if your Christ-likeness is anything more than just trying to be as nice as you can be. Like many, we’ve got 1 Cor 13 hanging on the wall in our bathroom as a constant examination of my heart. I’m sure you may have heard this before, but substitute your name for the word “love” in the familiar passage of scripture. _____ is patient and kind. _____ is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. _____ does not demand his/her own way. _____ is not irritable, and keeps no record of being wronged. _____ does not rejoice about injustice, but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. _____ never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

Better yet…ask your closest friends, spouse or children how you fare against this description of the greatest One who ever loved.

It doesn’t take us long to become compassionate and gracious to people in need: orphans, widows, and those who seem to always be on the receiving end of the harshness of this world. It’s easy to see a picture of an orphan and widow and become selfless in order to become tangibly compassionate. Somehow, and unfortunately, it’s easier to be kind and patient with people whom we don’t know.

Why is that?

Is it that it’s easier to see past the weaknesses, differences, and annoyances of people we don’t know and therefore able to see their need, and their vulnerability? Ask anyone to put a gift basket together for a family in need in a country we have never been too and there are all too eager to be compelled by compassion. But ask someone to write an encouragement card or empty the garbage of a co-worker that seems to constantly find ways annoy you, and it takes a herculean effort to die to self on the smallest of opportunities to someone you work with everyday. I am all too aware of my own propensity to be more patient with people I know less…and I so wish I was different.

How different would our immediate relationships be at work, home, church, community if we gave each other the same grace we give to someone we don’t know? How different would my life be if I really loved those around me unconditionally…like I loved the small orphaned baby I met today?  How different would my workplace be if I got to know the stories, the insecurities, and reasons my colleagues were they way they were? How different would our relationships be if we chose to give the benefit of the doubt every time there was an opportunity to prejudge actions and motives? Are we so afraid of being taken advantage of or losing control of a situation that we keep people in the categorized boxes we have made for them?  Are we possibly so concerned about what people think of us that we do what we can to control perceptions or never be wrong? Why is it that we so often feel emotionally unsafe with the people we are the closest too?

It would make more sense that as our familiarity in relationships grow so would our ability to extend grace and patience. It would seem right that those who know us the best get the best of us. The more we know someone, the greater the responsibility we should feel to invest in and protect those relationships.

It would seem that the early church had the same propensity for gracelessness when Paul wrote: “Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you… Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony.” (Colossians 3:12-14)