The Narrow Gate

Conflicted.

The uneasy feeling hit me sometime between the moment I saw the soldiers driving by in the Memorial Day parade and when I leaned in close to my daughter and explained that these men and women deserved our respect for sacrificing so much to keep us safe.

No sooner had I finished saying those words than the questions started pouring into my soul.

I'm conflicted.  

I remain conflicted. 

All the questions about war, conflict, kingdoms, politics and patriotism continue to swirl all around me.  

Jesus tells us stuff like he's bringing forth a new kingdom.  And that you can't serve two masters.  So where does that leave me as I pledge allegiance to my country's flag?  As a Christ-follower, can I pledge allegiance to both Jesus' kingdom and a country of this world?

How can I support a war when it so directly conflicts with "Blessed are the peacemakers?"

I love my country and have an immense amount of respect for men and women in uniform...but how does that play into my commitment to Christ?

More and more, I can't escape the simple words of Jesus as it relates to all of this.  We are called to something different.  And I feel convicted that I've taken a highlighter to scripture, pulling out only the parts I like and agree with.  The parts that just support my worldview on things.

I literally feel nauseous...I want to teach my daughter about the hows and whys we enjoy the freedom to go to church without fear, to sleep peacefully at night, to feel safe and protected...but at the same time, I'm not sure how Jesus would feel about placing such a high value the same military that while providing freedom, is also engaged in war, death and destruction.  I cannot get that lined up with the whole "love God, love people" thing no matter how many different ways I spin it.

My heart's pulled in so many different directions with this.  I'm not sure what it means, but I feel compelled to dig deeper into this.  I know there's a lot of material on the subject of being a Christian in the military and I think it'd be good to see this from a few different angles, because I might be missing something...maybe not. 

I've always felt such a huge sense of admiration and respect for the American military, but never before have I felt it grind so hard against my faith...   

      

Lead.

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a pastor lately. And sifting through pages and pages of books about vision-casting and leadership, evangelism and apologetics, exegesis and systematic theology, I just kind of hit a mental and spiritual wall. And in that place of exhaustion, I realized that if love (for God and people) truly is the motivation for being a pastor, then really the only thing that matters as a leader is being able to take someone's hand and lead them up to an encounter with the reality of Jesus Christ, the truth of the gospel, the scandal of the cross and then...

Let go.

To do any more is to either lack the simple trust that God is working in that moment and in that person, or worse, to become a salesman peddling religion.

I think it takes a real leader to let go. To know when your work ends and God's begins. To understand that sometimes, people will walk toward or away from God no matter what you preach, how many conferences you've gone to, how well you articulate your message, how great your kids ministry is, how developed your leadership skills are, how moving a video you played or how emotional your worship set was.

A great man knows how to be small...and no better place to become less than in the presence of God.

All a pastor can do is to bring someone as close to the real Jesus as humanly possible, and then step away and give them the chance to make their own decision. Introduce each member of your congregation individually to Jesus and then let those two talk and get to know each other for a while. I think a pastor should then give that moment away and allow a sacred and personal exchange to transpire.

I've never really been one for public altar calls. It's not that I have any hostility toward them, or the church leaders who do them...it's just that I don't see what it adds, or even that it's biblical for that matter. What an intimate moment that is when a child of God rushes into the arms of their creator. When the prodigal son comes home. When someone lets go of themselves and allows their heavenly father to embrace the innermost core of their being. I don't want to be a third wheel at that moment. I wouldn't want to impose.

To me, that's an unseen moment of intimacy that transcends the eye candy of a thousand hands raised or a rush of bodies to the stage. I don't need to know who or how many were saved. If someone is compelled to share that with me at a time and in a manner in which they feel comfortable - I'll listen all night long. Nothing gets me more energized than hearing those stories. Likewise, seeing a transfigured light radiating from a real and authentic encounter with Jesus is just as telling. No words are needed.

And if there is nothing visible, if there are no words spoken...a pastor just needs to have the faith that a great work is being done under the surface. A mystery is taking place and eternity is playing out with every sermon, every meeting, every email and cup of coffee. And if his every move is committed to taking someone one step closer to that meeting at the cross, then a pastor has done his job. No tangible ROI necessary.

Lead your flock...and then have the faith to let go.

Confession.

Encounters like the one I had last Friday afternoon make me take a long, hard look at my life and the things I profess to believe in.

I was waiting to get on the bus to go home around 5:00 when I heard an, "Excuse me, sir" off of my left shoulder. Truth be told, I felt the guy's presence before he uttered a word...that's what a few months of working in a heavy panhandling area gives you. Any way, the guy was young, maybe in his mid-20s. He wasn't dressed nicely, but I could tell that he took care in presenting himself as best he could. But the clothing and his countenance told me that everything he owned he had on his back. He confirmed this presumption and told me that he's homeless and diabetic and was asking people all day for food. What struck me as odd was that he didn't ask me for money, but he asked me if I could actually take him up the street to buy him something to eat.

His eyes never wavered from mine and I saw truth behind them. I also saw a red and white plastic rosary around his neck - half tucked-in and definitely not something he purposely put on display. I told him that I had to get on the bus but would give him all the cash I had on me...$1.40. He said "thanks" and "God bless" and walked off.

But he came back about a minute later and asked if my bus was going to Park and Main (it was) because he heard there was a soup kitchen there (I didn't know). Another woman standing next to us confirmed that there was a shelter nearby and the guy turned to me and said, "Well, I guess that dollar's going toward bus fare now." We both got on the bus together.

I walked to the middle of the bus and he sat a few rows in front of me. I watched him the entire ride down Main until he got off the bus and walked in the direction of the shelter.

Here's where I get sick to my stomach...because I know I turned my back on Jesus himself not once, not twice, but three times that afternoon. Just like Peter. Just like Peter, I rant and rave about how committed I am to Jesus...how the church needs to start getting off the pews and get dirty. I quote James up and down about how important faith in action is. And the second I have a chance to put my money where my mouth is, I turn away...again and again and again.

The worst part about this is that I had, in my hand the whole time, a book by Shane Claiborne called The Irresistible Revolution, in which he stresses the importance of serving in moments just like that. And literally moments before this guys walked up to me, I was reading that book and nodding my head in total agreement...totally...yes, we need to do that...the church has become so lazy...blah blah blah...insert self-righteous thoughts here.

I keep thinking how easy it would have been to go eat with the guy. To talk to him. To spend a few minutes with him. See, it wasn't about the money (didn't matter if I gave him $1.40 or $140), or the fact that I clumsily tried to direct him to a soup kitchen (where someone else could help him)...it wasn't about me at all...it was all about Jesus.

When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left.

Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what's coming to you in this kingdom. It's been ready for you since the world's foundation. And here's why:

I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.'

Then those 'sheep' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?' Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.'
-Matthew 25

So that was Jesus there asking me for some time. Jesus asking me for some company. Jesus asking me to help him get a meal. And I chose not to go any further than handing over some change and effectively trying to buy him away.

My heart breaks as I write this...I'm truly ashamed.

Inside this confession I pray for forgiveness - but really, I pray for another chance.

It's been said that it's only a mistake if you don't learn from it. I hope that this changes me forever. I hope that I can start looking for Jesus in places like that. At the bus stop. Passing by on the street. Standing next to me. And I hope that I see Jesus and not an inconvenience.

Or maybe that's kind of the point...that Jesus is an inconvenience...and his true followers are just the ones who simply don't mind.

Awesome.

Dude...my wife is awesome. So I walk out of the bathroom tonight and there she is sitting in the bedroom with a brand new Macbook! I've been wanting one of these for so long and she just completely surprised me with this one. I've got some serious purchasing problems with everything from socks to cellphones (pick something up, talk myself out of it, pick it back up, talk myself out of it) so it was so cool that she just pulled the trigger on this one after about two years of listening to me talk about it.

I know I shouldn't get so excited about a tangible good, but this thing is SICK! Got my little network set up and am all set to get serious with my writing now.

But cooler than the mac is the fact that my wife knows me so completely. It's the little things like this that really make me feel known and valued and loved. It makes me feel totally supported and encouraged. It's a great feeling. And to see her light up like she did tonight giving me this gift just really makes me realize that I married way over my head.

Seriously...I think I have the coolest wife ever.