beingbeckster

So the staff at Celebrate has been given some assigned reading by Keith. It’s a book called The Hole in Our Gospel by World Vision president Richard Stearns.

It’s wrecking. It’s breaking me to the inner core, discussing how the Christian church and Christians in general have become apathetic to the very people that Jesus commanded His followers to care for: the oppressed, the poor, the outcasts. It reminds me of a statement made by Bono when he was interviewed by Bill Hybels:

Hybels: I read somewhere, that when you say The Lord’s Prayer, there’s one phrase that really grips you. Which one is it?

Bono: “Thy kingdom come, on earth, as it is in heaven,” is the phrase that I use.

Hybels: And why, why does that one grab you?

Bono: Because a lot of people are happy with “pie in the sky when they die”. But I don’t think that is what is our purpose. Our purpose is to bring heaven to earth—in the micro, as well as the macro. In every detail of our lives, we should be trying to bring heaven to earth.

I may be bringing heaven to earth (poorly) among my small circle, but honestly, I have not been concerned with the redemption of those Christ commanded us to look after. Stearns likens it to taking a scissors and cutting out all the portions of the Bible we’d rather not deal with. I’ve been detached, and it’s sickening.

I appreciate Stearn’s candid confession:

“…I too struggle to mourn over these kids as if they were my own. [...] It is altogether possible for me to do my job at World Vision with a sense of emotional detachment. [...] I can easily get distracted by the details of my own life and family–often with little thought for the tragic lives on children thousands of miles away.”

I feel it too. The plight of Darfur seems so far away. Child prostitution seems as if it occurs in another world. World poverty seems insurmountable. And even though I’m in ministry, often it’s easy to become numb to the struggles in our own congregation, in my own youth kids. It’s so easy to block it out and live my cushy Christian-American life with so many clothes they spill out of my closet, a fridge full of food, and enough luxurious distractions (internet, XBOX, movies) to carry my mind away.

His prayer and mine–”Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God.”

This past weekend, I presented the message for our Kindergarten-5th grade children’s church. This week’s lesson was on conviction: standing for what is right when others don’t. More specifically, it was about telling others about Jesus.

I taught on Acts 3, where Peter and John heal the lame man who sits in front of the temple gate everyday. Though I shared from the angle of Peter and John and the persecution they faced for telling others about Jesus and healing those in His name, I prayed that God would open this story to me in a fresh way, and it came in a surprising twist.

I looked at it from the perspective of the lame man. What would it be like to have been him? To daily sit outside the temple where people came to worship the holy God and ask for mere change? To expect only that? And one day, not unlike every other, to hold out a shaky hand with eyes downcast, expecting only the status quo.

But then, two men stopped and actually looked at him, and looked at him intently. Here is an outcast, a social pariah, a man who has probably been ignored at worst, and pitied at best–and two men looked him in eye, and offered something beyond belief. But when they said “Get up and walk”, he believed, and did.

I feel like the lame man. How often do I wait outside the gates of God’s abundance and ask for and expect only a meager token? Sometimes I wonder if His eyes are searching for mine, daring for me to look up, to desire for something more. And when He extends His hand to pull me to my feet, do I believe He will do it?

So I think God is trying to tell me something.  I’ve been getting the same message from different sources these last few weeks, and I’m not too dull to think it’s coincidence.  I shared this message with a youth girl a week ago (though they were most certainly not my words). Keith shared this message at our staff meeting. Even my friend John said it was encouraging that others around us seem to be wrestling with the same thing.  And my writer-friend Melissa alluded to it in her recent blog.

How have we become so focused on “doing” for God (or others, for that matter) that we forget how to “be” with Him?

Do or Do Not Do…there is no try.
*Bonus points if you can tell me where that quote comes from…*

It’s a “doing-disease” for me.  Most of us are taught that significance and worth come from what we accomplish.  Being a naturally busy person by nature, I just go, go, go.  And for a long time, I thought at the root of my desire was generosity and work-ethic.  But let me dig deep and really be honest.  There’s a tiny little well that grows the busier I become, and with each bucket I pull up and pour out, I find it’s really filled with insecurity and selfishness.

In my desire for meaning and significance, I’ve been trying to impress others, and really, to impress God.  I’m like a five-year-old, standing on my tippy-toes, shifting impatiently from side to side, and tugging on God’s t-shirt (yes, I do like to think that God goes casual sometimes)  saying, “Hey God!  Over here!  Look at me!  Look at what I’m doing for You…do you like it?”

How easy it is to forget that God is not impressed by my acts!  He doesn’t love me any more when I’m doing “His work” than He does when I’m at my worst.  How difficult it is for me to rest in Him, to know that “His work” is just that–His power within me, and nothing I’ve done.  Keith shared that in Scripture today, with the beginning of Psalm 124: “If it had not been for the Lord…”

Since hearing it, it’s like a Superball ricocheting around in my head.  “If it had not been for the Lord…”  I need say no more–He is the source of EVERYTHING.

Remind me that I am Your child, Your Beloved.  Help me to rest in THAT identity.  May my “doing” come only as a response of GRATITUDE for what You’re doing.