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Me, Myself, and the Poor?

The train finally pulls into Boston, North Station, 20 minutes behind schedule. You’ll have to move quickly if you’re going to get to your important meeting on time. As you exit the building, you discover that it has now started to rain hard and you did not bring an umbrella. Standing in the pouring rain, you attempt to flag down a cab and as you search your coat pocket for your cell phone and some cash, you realize that you have left your wallet on the kitchen counter. You breathe a sigh of relief as you find a $20 bill in your back pocket. But in your multi-tasking attempt to flag down a cab and call your appointment with the news that you are running late, you drop your cell phone in a torrent of flood water that is fast becoming a river, now rushing past the sidewalk. You decide that this is the worst day of your life. Fishing around in the dirty water to retrieve your cell phone, with its now cracked screen, you catch sight of someone in the periphery of your vision. He too is crouching to get out of the rain and in his hand is a cardboard sign upon which is scrawled a simple message. The crude lettering is streaked with rain water, but the message is still visible, “Have not eaten in two days. Can you help?” Simultaneously, you have three thoughts: 1) I am glad that I have not made eye contact, 2) He looks young. Why doesn’t he have a job?, and 3) If I give him this $20 bill, I will have to walk two blocks in the pouring rain.

So, what do you do?

A church that I know of deliberately set themselves in just this dilemma. The senior warden donned dirty clothes and a big hat, dirtied his face and hands, and sprinkled whiskey on his clothes. Deep in disguise, he sat on the front steps of the church, just before the start of the morning service, to see what would happen. He was overwhelmed with the response. Immediately he was invited in and offered a clean change of clothes, a meal and all sorts of help. During the service, he came to the front, threw off the disguise and reported to the church members how well they had done. As he was speaking and as they were congratulating themselves, a stranger appeared at the back of the church — dirty clothes, smelling of cheap liquor, huddled by a heater for warmth. Later they said that they realized that the earlier charade had been only the dress rehearsal and now it was the real deal. This man was overwhelmed by their kind response. And more than that, his presence amongst them and their sense of God’s testing launched a whole new ministry to the homeless that has since helped many, many people in desperate circumstances. They must have been relieved they made the right call that morning! 

In his teaching about the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25: 31-46), Jesus communicated that there will be eternal consequences to the choices we make. Get it right and we follow the way of the “sheep” (“Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance…” – verse 34). To get it wrong is to go the way of the goats — what C.S Lewis calls, “the other thing.” This is Jesus saying that we are going to be held directly accountable for something that we might not even notice or recognize. (“Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or ill or in prison, and did not help you?” – verse 44). Where is the love of God in the whole sheep and goat thing? Where is the grace of God in that? To which Jesus is saying: well, where is there grace in any of us walking past the sick, the hurting, the poor, the prisoner, the destitute or the hungry — without a second look? Where is the grace in us concluding that it is okay to ignore people who are suffering because we are stronger and better fed than they are?

And after all, Jesus’ instructions in this teaching are very straightforward: welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, give the thirsty something to drink, tend to the sick and visit the prisoner. So, what do you do?

Well, you could try to dial it down. The first response might be to say: Well, when Jesus said this, He did not really mean it literally. He’s just stirring us up a bit. Let’s give that a fancy theological name to satisfy our intellectual pride and call it “rabbinic hyperbole” — a little bit of ancient near-eastern sensationalism to catch our attention and make us think! Yes, that’s what we’ll call it. Except that it is not rabbinic hyperbole. What Jesus is describing here is the shape of God’s heart. “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be open-handed towards your brothers and towards the poor and needy in your land.” (Deuteronomy 15:7) And it’s a heart that we find throughout the whole Bible.

So, what standard of care toward the poor is going to make me fit for the afterlife? Jesus is again offering very little comfort here when He tells us that the standard is perfection: “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48) and “Jesus answered, ‘If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor.’” (Matthew 19:21.

Which brings us to the second response: dialing it up. We say, well, if this is what it is going to take, then I had better get on with this. And so, in our own strength, we begin to take on the world. The problem is that this is way beyond us, and we end up with an unsustainable counterfeit version that ultimately leads us to any number of reactions: overwhelmed, disappointed, burned out, apathetic. Or we may even become legalistic or self-righteous. We recognize that perfection is out of reach and apathy is not an option — and yet we are still called to this standard of excellence. So, what do you do?

What is left for us is to step into a process of transformation. This begins with our acknowledging our own poverty — we simply cannot do this in our own strength. We do not have the moral strength to do this. This is about recognizing our powerlessness to change ourselves or this world in our own strength. And from that place, this is about coming to the Cross of Jesus Christ. We willingly submit ourselves to the Holy Spirit to be transformed into the image of Jesus who is perfect. And we accept that this is a process.

In this place of willing submission, we are transformed into the likeness of Jesus. “And so we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.”(2 Corinthians 3:18). And this is a process that is mapped out one heart-breaking step at a time. If we are to assume God’s heart for this hurting world, then we need to allow our own hearts to be broken. This means putting yourself in a position where your heart can be broken. This is about giving sacrificially — time and resources. This is about praying, Lord, show me where You are today.

Finally, it is about having faith that, together, in the power of God, we can make a difference. The problem is when we read the Bible and it says “you” we have a tendency to take it as “me” when we should take it as “we.” In God’s power and leading, we are supposed to work together in this. “We” is community. And because of Jesus – because of the Cross – we are on a trajectory that says that the heart of God will prevail. Equity, compassion, beauty, peace, hope, and justice will all prevail — despite what we see and despite what we don’t see, because of Jesus and because of the Cross. Love has and will conquer all.

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By Name and Not Profession

About ten years ago, over the course of a particularly harsh December in the UK, there was a terrible series of events in the city that I was ministering in which women working in prostitution were serially disappearing. It seemed that every day the news would show yet another picture of another victim — a young woman smiling at the camera, never suspecting how that snapshot would one day be used to notify the world of her tragic end. These terrible events caused a great wave of fear across the whole country. We were deep in preparation for our Christmas services but amidst all the festivities and caroling we felt that we needed to publicly pray for these women and their families. It fell upon me to shape those prayers. How do you pray in such terrible circumstances? I was very clear about one thing: nobody was going to pray for them by profession. We were going to pray for someone’s daughter, sister, grandchild, mother… and we were going to pray for their families who were left to grieve. 

I shall never forget the soft silence that fell upon the service as we led these prayers — a silence only disturbed by the sound of weeping that came from one part of the  crowded church. Later we discovered that a young woman and her friend (girls who worked the city streets) had come to church that night because they were very afraid and, in their words, “We wanted to feel safe in God’s house.” Later they told us that they had wept because we had called the victims by name. They came back for several more services over the Christmas period and each time they brought more of their colleagues with them because, they said, “This was a church where God knew them by name and not profession. This was a place where they felt safe.” 

I can’t help but recall the faces of these young women whenever I read the account of the Biblical story of Rahab. There was something in this raw instinct to reach out for God’s protection and rely wholly upon God’s mercy that was embedded in their lives and in Rahab’s life.

Let me personalize Rahab’s story. Under Joshua’s leadership, the people of God are now poised to possess the land that God has given them. Part of this Promised Land is the walled city of Jericho. Built thousands of years before Joshua was born, Jericho was one of the oldest cities in the world. It was also one of the most corrupt places on the face of the earth. Jericho made Las Vegas look like The Vatican! 

Joshua gave the order for two unnamed soldiers to enter the city as spies and bring back news of what they found. Where might spies go without fear of being detected? Where might two young soldiers go where nobody will question them? They call at the home of Rahab, whose house is conveniently situated on the city wall and whose occupation as a prostitute gave them what they hoped would be the perfect cover. The king of Jericho somehow discovers their arrival and sends his soldiers to Rahab’s house to arrest them. And in this moment, Rahab makes arguably one of the most heroic decisions in the entire Bible. Risking her own life and the lives of her family, she chooses to hide the Jewish spies on the roof of her house, telling the king’s soldiers that the men have left the city. If they had demanded to search the premises and found the spies, she and her family would have been executed on the spot. Why did she take this action? Why is a woman who was caught up in an immoral lifestyle and who arguably betrayed her city held out as a hero of faith? 

I believe the answer lies in the remarkable quality of her faith. Faith is always about who we are choosing to place our trust in. As a Canaanite woman, Rahab had myriad gods at her disposal and yet there was something about the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob that had entered her heart. Even more amazing, Rahab knows nothing of this God, save for that which she has learned from the testimony of men who visit her home and pay her for her time, pillow talk from soldiers who are terrified of the God who parted the Red Sea. Their testimony touched her heart to the point that she can say to Joshua’s spies: “…for the LORD your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below.” (Joshua 2:11b).

This is perhaps the most important statement in the whole of the story. In this raw statement of faith, Rahab is declaring that upon the earth and under heaven there are no other gods. She is placing all her trust, all her hopes, all her fears in the sheer power and mercy of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. 

The Israelite army had absolutely no experience in any wall-breaching strategies! This had been the situation 40 years ago when they failed to take the city, and nothing had changed. The two spies did not glean one strategic fact about that city. They simply  returned to Joshua with just one statement: “The Lord has surely given the whole land into our hands; all the people are melting in fear because of us.” (verse 24). They are directly quoting Rahab who had told them, “I know that the Lord has given this land to you and that a great fear of you has fallen on us so that all who live in this land are melting in fear because of you.” (verse 9). And on the strength of her statement of faith, they are prepared to take the walled city — not by force, but by faith. Ultimately, they marched around it on a kind of prayer walk. Just as God said would happen, on the 7th day and on the 7thtime around, the walls crumbled, and this impregnable city was completely surrendered to them (Joshua 6). It was Rahab’s simple statement of faith that opened the sluice gates for God’s power to flow — through her to the spies and to Joshua and to the people of God.

How will Rahab’s little scrap of faith lay siege to her impossible life? Before they made their escape, the spies agreed to save Rahab and her family when the Israelite army came to take the city. What happened to Rahab? The Bible records that there was a man named Boaz, a man of great honor and of significant wealth within the Jewish community who showed great love and kindness in saving a young woman  named Ruth. Guess who Boaz had to thank for his good looks and Godly character? Rahab! Rahab is Boaz’s mother. So, we can know that Rahab not only married but married a man of honor and wealth. The impossible was overturned. The circumstances of her life that had kept her walled up in a prison of desolation and despair came crumbling down. Her fortunes were radically transformed, and all in just one generation. Furthermore, Boaz and Ruth had a son named Obed who grew up to father Jesse, who was father to David whose line begets Jacob the father of Joseph who was the husband of Mary of whom was born Jesus who is called Christ. There is the name of Rahab in the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah recorded in Matthew 1 — one of the only women included on the list. Rehab placed all her faith in the God of heaven and earth and ended up face-to-face with Jesus Christ. Is it remotely possible that God still does that sort of thing? 

Maybe we can identify with a sense of being walled in with some impossible circumstances. Maybe we feel that we are running out of faith. Rahab would encourage us that it was not the quantity of her faith that was most important. It was not even the quality of her faith. It is likely that what she shared with the spies constituted all she knew at that time about the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. What was most important was the identity of the One she chose to trust above all else. 

While saying goodbye after the service on that cold December night, one of the girls paused and told me quietly, “I am not proud of my life. This was not my dream. But what can I do but throw myself on the mercy and protection of God.” I think that is one of the sincerest statements of faith that I have ever heard. I don’t know what happened to this young woman. I do know that her faith was whole-hearted and not misplaced in a God who knew her by name, not by profession.

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Firestorm of the Heart [Part 2]

The suffering of the Hebrew people must have entered Moses’ consciousness because he made the decision to leave the protection and comfort of Pharaoh’s palace to see what was going on for himself. But it was only from outside the palace gates, out on the streets, that the captivity of his people truly broke his heart. Here is where he began to feel that firestorm within himself.

If we are going discern God’s heart within us, we need to engage with a suffering world. Quite simply, we need to get out more! However, there is a caveat. If we expose ourselves to all that is broken in the world but neglect to view the brokenness from God’s perspective — which promises that everything is in the process of being restored — then I believe that we could be paralyzed by the immensity of global injustice.

For William Wilberforce, the pathway to abolition was blocked by vested interests, parliamentary filibustering, entrenched bigotry, international politics, slave unrest, his own poor health, and political fear. He could have been sucked into an impossible downward spiral of despair. Instead, through prayer and the community of God’s people, Wilberforce entered a life viewed from God’s perspective. Here is where our heads are lifted and our perspective shifts from that which our eyes can see to that which God is telling us is true. And in this reality, that which is enslaved can still be set free, what is broken can be mended, what is sick can be healed, what is hated can be loved, what is stained can still be made clean and what is wrong can be made right.

There is also another reason why we need to hold on to God’s perspective. Exodus tells us that Moses left the palace, “…after [he] had grown up.” So, was this when Moses was all emotionally, spiritually and physically healed up? No, this is a 40-year-old man with a stammer, something of a superiority complex, and a murderously violent temper. If serving God is only for those who are the emotionally, spiritually and physically fully healed and whole people, then you can count me out. Wilberforce was dogged by appalling health and, because of chronic pain, was mildly addicted to opium (commonly used as a painkiller in those days). It was, however,  in walking out their calling that Moses and Wilberforce were shaped and matured as Godly men. The day Moses was confronted with a burning bush, God instructed Moses to take off his shoes. Why? Because the ground was holy. This is an extraordinary visual demonstration — clearly God did not need a beautiful bush, a highly-educated bush, a hugely successful bush or even an extremely pious bush. The important thing here is not the bush but that it was God who was in the bush! It is as if God was saying to Moses, “I am going to use you, but it will not be you doing something for Me but Me doing something through you.” Moses would be the vessel through which God would work. And emotionally, physically and spiritually, we are healed as we go.

So, what firestorm around injustice might the Lord have set in your heart? I wonder if we can become much too religious about that question. Is it possible that the very thing that stirs your heart as you read the newspaper or watch TV, or as you drive through your community and say under your breath “somebody needs to do something about that…) might be exactly what the Lord is saying to you?

A man who, as a baby, was floated down a river in a basket as part of a wild and crazy plan to save his life, grew up to lead a whole nation out of slavery. A village just outside of London called Clapham, hosted a community of friends that brought down the global slave trade and eventually outlawed slavery. I guess when you look at the overwhelming odds that were against Moses and Wilberforce you would have to conclude that God was with them.

If you knew that God had planted His divine firestorm within you, if you knew that God was with you, promised faithfully to work through you and had set in place people who shared your passion, would it make a difference to what you did next?

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Firestorm of the Heart [Part 1]

By the late 1700s, the economics of slavery were so entrenched in the British Empire that only a handful of people thought anything could be done about it. That handful included the English aristocrat William Wilberforce, who was to write,

“So enormous, so dreadful, so irremediable did the [slave] trade’s wickedness appear that my own mind was completely made up for abolition. Let the consequences be what they would: I from this time determined that I would never rest until I had effected its abolition.”

With this firestorm for injustice in his heart, Wilberforce and a group of trusted friends (called “The Clapham Circle”) mobilized the public and took on the slave traders and the British Parliament to end the slave trade in the British Empire — eventually leading to the Abolition of Slavery Act in 1833.

A few thousand years before, another well-educated, wealthy and powerful man had a similar conversion that brought about the eventual emancipation of a whole people group from the oppression of a powerful regime. Like Wilberforce, young Moses was accustomed to the finer things in life but, despite all his surroundings of being raised by the daughter of Pharaoh, Moses knew that he was a Jewish boy living the Egyptian dream. At Exodus chapter 2, verse 11, it says, “One day, after Moses had grown up, he went out to where his own people were and watched them at their hard labor.” Enslaved for 400 years, a thriving economy was being built off the backs of Hebrew slaves. Moses’ heart was ignited with rage as he witnessed firsthand the oppression of his people and in a passionate outburst, he killed an Egyptian slave owner who was beating a Hebrew slave.

Forty years later, having fled from Pharaoh and now living as an outcast in the desert, Moses noticed a bush that, although burning, was somehow not consumed by the flames. It is easy to have the misconception that the miraculous sight of a spontaneously and perpetually burning bush caused Moses to transition from shepherd to patriarch, from criminal in hiding to the leader and liberator of God’s people. I wonder if there was a little more going on? I wonder if it is possible that the burning bush was, in fact, the means by which God got Moses to slow down long enough for Him to get his attention and convey a level of empathy most of us never think to ascribe to God.

Might we paraphrase the Lord’s conversation with Moses in this way: “Moses, I completely understand the rage you feel. I too have seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have felt their anguish as they suffer. And for what it is worth, I hate the sorrow and suffering as much as you do. If you can believe me, I hate it more. I am stirred in my Spirit, Moses. I have decided to intervene from heaven. I have chosen to rescue my people and I want you to help me. If you will participate in my plan, then I will harness the internal firestorm that rages inside of you and channel it into Holy action that will set my people free from slavery.” This encounter was a powerful, spiritual congruence or connection that linked Moses’ priorities to the priorities of God. We witness the same divine congruence over William Wilberforce’s life.

Does your heart burn with a passion for some local or global injustice? If so, is it remotely possible that God is meeting you in this place? If so, how would you know? In next week’s Saturday blog we will attempt to answer this question.

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A Resolution of a New Year and a New Decade

Calling all conscripts to the secret army of His love in action      

I have set for myself a number of New Decade, New Year resolutions. I won’t bore you with the whole list, but I wondered if I might just share one of them with you. I felt convicted to resolve to do some kind of act of service for a stranger every day. I offered this to the Lord in prayer and of course, He has rather taken me at my word!

The very next day I set off for Florida for the annual College of Bishops gathering. Between connecting flights (in the very nicely renewed airport of Charlotte) a young woman armed with a cell phone and no English pleadingly asked me for directions to her gate. I pointed the way… whereupon she tucked her arm in mine and it was clear that I was to be her escort. I did wonder whether we might end up at the College of Bishops together but when she was confident that I had served her with accuracy she disengaged arms, enthusiastically thanked me, and disappeared. I then got some much-needed exercise in running to my gate! It was only that evening as I pondered the absence of my resolved “act of service to a stranger” that I realized that my traveling companion was the answer to my prayers.

Dr. Tony Campolo is a sociologist, pastor, author, public speaker and former spiritual advisor to a U.S. President. He once shared a true story that made a great impression on me.

Tony had flown from the continental United States to Honolulu and because of the jet lag, he had awoken at 3:00 a.m. His body thought it was about 9 a.m. and was asking for breakfast. He got up and wandered down the street from the hotel into a down-at-the-heel restaurant. He ordered a cup of coffee and a donut. The man behind the counter was an unkempt man named Harry. Harry poured him a cup and handed Tony a donut. Not long after, the front door burst open and eight or nine women entered, having ended their working night in the brothels that crowded the back streets. They sat down at the counter next to Tony. One of the women was heard to say, “Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be 39.” Her friend said, “So what do you want from me? I suppose you want a party or something. Maybe you want me to bake you a cake?” The first woman (whom Tony later found out was named Agnes) said, “Why are you so mean? I don’t want nothing from you. I’ve never had a birthday party and no one has ever baked me a cake. So be quiet!”

At that point, Tony had an idea. When the ladies had left he asked Harry, “Do these women come in here every night?” “Yes, they do.” “This one next to me—Agnes?” Harry nodded, “Same time, just like clockwork.” So Tony said, “What about if we throw a party for Agnes, a birthday party?” Harry smiled and called out to his wife in the kitchen. She thought it was a great idea.

The next night Tony came back at the same time and the place was decorated with crepe paper and a sign on the wall which said, “Happy Birthday, Agnes!” They sat and waited. Soon others began to trickle in. Word had gotten ’round on the streets.

At the regular time, Agnes and her friends burst through the door and everyone shouted, “Happy birthday, Agnes!” Her knees buckled. Her friends caught her. She was stunned. They led her to the counter and she sat down. Harry brought the cake out and her mouth fell open and her eyes filled with tears. They put the cake down in front of her and sang “Happy birthday.” Harry said, “Blow the candles out so we can all have some.” But Agnes just stared at the cake. Finally, they convinced her to blow out the candles.

Harry handed her a knife and told her to cut the cake. She sat looking at the cake lovingly, as if it was the most precious thing she had ever seen. Then she asked, “Do I have to cut it?” Harry said kindly, “No, you don’t have to cut it.” Then she said something even more strange: “I would like to keep it for a while. I don’t live far from here. Can I take it home? I’ll be right back.” Everybody looked at her with puzzled faces and he said, “Sure, you can take it.” She got off the stool, picked up the cake, and walked slowly toward the door. Everyone just stood there motionless as she left.

When the door closed, there was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, Tony broke the silence by saying, “What do you say we pray?” Later Tony remarked that it just felt like “the right thing to do.” He prayed for Agnes. He prayed that her life would be changed and that she would encounter the fullness of God’s love for her. As he laid an “Amen” at the end of his prayer, Harry leaned over the counter and said to him, “Hey, I didn’t know you were a preacher!” Tony answered, “I’m not a preacher. I’m a sociologist.” Harry asked, “Well, what kind of church do you come from anyway?” Tony said, “I guess I come from a church that throws a birthday party for a woman called Agnes at 3 o’clock in the morning.” And Harry said, “No, you don’t. There’s no such church like that ‘cause if there was,” he said, “I’d join it.”

Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least… you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:40). We are all God’s children. We are all made in God’s image. God is tenacious in love, all pursuing, ever persevering and He refuses to give any of us up. If we will heed His call, Jesus will lead us into the extraordinary adventure of His love—an adventure that will bring us to the most unlikely places to restore all those who, beneath the dust and debris of disappointment and battered dreams, still bear His image. Many times, we will be wearied and soiled in His great love as we seek to be His hands and feet, but it will be life to us, and it will be life to all those for whom He would have us serve and celebrate.

Would you join me in being part of a secret army of His love to the stranger in our midst? Is it possible that our discreet actions might so display His love that we might hear a stranger say, “If that was the church, I’d join it!”