Traveling
outside the United States is eye-opening. Suddenly, surrounded me are people
speaking a “foreign” language. At first glance, it seems like some elaborate
immersive stage drama concocted for my amusement. Each display of writing is a
puzzle of interpretation, and my pocket-dictionary attempts at conversation or,
at a minimum, seeking direction feel clumsy.
And
so it is with loving others. It’s easy to love others when we speak a common
language. If I appreciate receiving physical touch, it may feel natural to give
a handshake, pat on the back, or hug. We very often “speak” the same love language that
we long to “hear.” Loving outside our “language” requires learning and
humility.
Knowing
oneself and how we desire to be loved is essential, but it’s only the first
step toward loving others. Hebrews
13:1 commands us to love, to set aside ourselves in deference others. Engage
with someone else in conversation about their love language, watch over time
how they act when they love others; it can be quite revealing. Use what you
find out to target that person, sharing the love that you have received from
God in a language they can understand.
And
herein lies the rub: to be a sustainable action, this love must come from a
deep place, greater than any human can conjure. Only with God, filled with His
Spirit, is this possible!
“A
new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have
loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that
you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John
13:34-35)
I’ll bet it’s not
pleasant. For me, it conjures images of angry protesters with signs. Yelling
preachers with pointing fingers. And this heavy, heartfelt exhaustion of yet
ANOTHER thing I’ve apparently done wrong. It tires me.
It’s not a word
that I naturally incline toward.
I’ve only been a
Christian for 12 years, but one of the most consistent qualities of my walk
with God has been His apparent love for giving me good things in unexpected,
often unwanted, situations. Relationships I didn’t want now strengthen me as my
closest friends. Injuries and illnesses have conveyed the tender care and
kindness of our Church community. Financial difficulty has grown a steady—and
happy—confidence in God as our faithful provider.
There’s a pattern
to much of the Christian life: happiness seems to be found in the most
counterintuitive places. The places where death, particularly death of self, dwell.
Which brings us to
that unhappy word—repent.
In this Sunday’s
sermon, Jeff read from Revelation
2:1-7, wherein Jesus calls the church in Ephesus to repent, or change their
minds about something.
Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place.
Easy to miss in there is the powerful line “Consider how far you have fallen!” Jesus’s call is, I think, not merely about making a decision but about coming to a conclusion. Repentance is as much a coming to your senses as it is an actual decision you make.
So what is Jesus calling them to? Change their minds about what? Come to their senses about what? Consider how far they’ve fallen from what?
Himself.
More specific to
this situation, they’ve lost connection with their first love, Jesus Himself.
The source of all glory and goodness. The Happy, Holy God of Heaven wrapped in
flesh, who gave up His life in order to save them. There’s no greater treasure
to be had, and they’ve wandered off from that.
So for the
Ephesians, and for all of us, that painful word “Repent!” conceals something
wonderful.
It’s an invitation back into all joy with the God of Heaven.
“Since you have kept my command to endure patiently . . .” (Rev.
3:10)
Do you remember
these words from Pastor Brian’s message this last week? They really seemed to
resound with me.
So how do we endure patiently? This life that we live
here on earth is full of trials and tribulations, most of our own making, but
how do we endure these things patiently? It is an ever-present struggle for us,
and I am no exception. Some are small and happen to us and then fade away, but
the larger trials may take days or months or even years, and they are ever present
in our memories.
Janna and I are
just coming out of one of those long periods—almost two years. I have to admit
that at times, I did become depressed for a little bit, but always Jesus was
with us. He reminded me of all the times in my past when He had used trials to
teach me something (there were a lot of those times) and showed me how I came
out of them stronger than when I went in. It was these memories that helped me
endure and helped me lead Janna and the rest of the family to endure, very
patiently, and eventually turned this endurance to complete joy.
“See, I have placed before you an open door, that no one can shut.” (Rev.
3:8)
No matter what
happens in our lives, God has the door open. He is ready for us to walk
through, but we are too often wallowing in the lies that Satan tells us. How
often have you been depressed about your circumstances? Why? The Lord is always
there, waiting for you to walk through that door that He has opened. Look back
on your life! He has always brought you out of the valleys. Remove the veil of
lies from Satan and see clearly the door that is open.
This is not to say
that trials will automatically disappear. Instead, when you see that light from
the open door, you are able to endure those other trials and learn what God is
trying to teach you. At this point, you are ready to be joyful, even while
going through your trials. It is in these times that other people marvel at how
you are handling the situation and how joyful you are, when, to the world, you
should be sad and wallowing in self-pity. Blah!
This is not
Heaven. We will have trials and tribulations! The question is, How are we going
to deal with these? Remember, “What He opens no one can shut” (Rev.
3:7).
Around our house, one of the most common questions we ask each
other is, “What do you have going today?” The default answer is
something like, “I’ve got stuff to do, but nothing necessarily
scheduled.” Are you busy, too? I come from a heritage of busy people. It’s
what I do. So, when the elders looked at the membership covenant this month
(you can find it attached to the Elim constitution), I had to reflect on
whether my life is in line with it. Then, on Sunday, Steve had us all write an
“Eighth Letter to Elim” in the manner of Revelation
chapter 2.
The covenant, based on the examples in Scripture, calls us to
be disciplined in regular practices of prayer, study, and worship. We’re to be
doers of the Word, serving with our time, talents, and things. We are to come
together regularly and encourage each other and build each other up.
In all of my busyness, I ask myself, Am I good busy or just
busy?
So, my letter to Elim is a personal letter to me, and it calls
out my busyness.
It comes from Jesus Christ, the Creator
of all things. He is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, who has
existed through all time. He doesn’t just know time; He created it.
He is pleased with our welcoming
nature and how we have learned to and practice extending grace. He is the God
of second chances, and we are His people.
But He criticizes our busyness—too
busy for Him—too busy for each other—too busy for the ones we welcome in.
So, be still. Listen. Be productive
with good things. Come together and break bread together. Don’t live your life
in solitary busyness.
Why? Because Jesus will be with us
always and we can know the peace of being in His will. He will give all that we
need to fulfill His purpose for us. Our busyness prevents realizing this.
I’m in my sixth decade of doing this life. (That means I’m in
my fifties; count it on your fingers like I did if you don’t believe me.) I’m
still learning and hopefully improving, but I know I need to keep working on
the good-busy thing. My letter doesn’t speak for everyone, but it’s one that I
could imagine getting in the mail.
“Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and
have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable,
and poor, and blind, and naked” Revelation
3:17.
This text in
Revelation clearly lays out for us that the lukewarm hearts of the Laodicean
church caused them to lose sight of their need for the Lord. They were
complacent in their faith. They had wealth and they had provision; therefore,
they did not see that they had need for anything. Is this true of us at Elim?
Is this true of you?
As a believer,
I am constantly battling against my own complacency. I like the way that John
Piper puts it in the article “How to Fight
Lukewarmness”: “Most of us in the prosperous West live in modern day
Laodiceas (Revelation 3:14-22). Our faith is not endangered by persecution but
by the constant temptations of worldly compromise.” Because of their wealth and
riches, the Laodicean church became complacent in their faith and need of a Savior.
It’s easy to forget our constant need for Jesus when virtually every need—and,
at times, every want—is met with supply.
Take the
Garden of Eden for example.
God provided every want and need for Adam and Eve. In return, they were asked
to be good stewards of what God had given them. However, when the serpent came
in all of his tempting ways, Adam’s heart, previously content with all he had
been given, turned to a heart of complacency when he stood by and watched Eve,
his helpmate, eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Adam’s complacency
is tied into the first sin recorded in the Bible.
This sin
robbed Adam and Eve of all the blessings and good God had in store for them.
All because Adam became complacent. How much easier is it in this modern world
to stand by, like Adam, and watch as our blessings from the Lord are robbed
from us and the good that we are called to do slips away because of our own
complacency? This week, I challenge myself and my church family to reexamine our
lives and Identify areas of complacency and weed them out. Then as a church, we
can move forward in the good works that Christ has called us to.
Two World Vision colleagues and friends hiking: Brian Sytsma (left) and Rob Moll (right).Rob was killed in a hiking accident on Mt. Rainier last month.Photo courtesy Brian’s Facebook page.
Last week I learned that someone I loved and respected at World Vision, looked up to as a mentor and considered a friend who had been very kind to me, died very suddenly and unexpectedly on Mt. Rainier.
Rob Moll was an editor at Christianity
Today for many years, before
coming to World Vision and taking a job (as writer for the president) that I
had applied for. I was vaguely annoyed, of course, even though I recognized he
was far more qualified than I was — an amazing writer and editor who had
published several brilliant books.
But my annoyance faded quickly as I
got to know Rob. He was a riveting presenter at chapels, and his intense
curiosity, scientific interest, and passionate love for Jesus made it hard to
stay annoyed. The last time we met was an informal lunch at World Vision’s U.S.
headquarters, where I sought and received from him some good advice on how to get
my novel professionally reviewed.
Rob left World Vision shortly
thereafter for a job in Boston, but retained some good friends here, and came
back here last month to climb Mt. Rainier with one of them, a colleague and
friend named Brian. They were climbing an escarpment when Rob lost his footing
and fell 100 feet. Brian descended quickly to find him unresponsive, and by the
time the helicopter arrived, he had passed into the presence of Jesus.
Rob was only 41. He had a wife and four children. His funeral is Friday afternoon. (Please let me know if anyone would like to go with me.)
Rob’s passing was the second brush
with grief I’d had in the past few months. I struggled when I learned earlier
this year that Pastor Martin and Kim were moving on. Martin is a good friend
and mentor and one of the key reasons Darlene and I fell in love with this
church and have enjoyed being a part of this body for the past 20 years or so.
And of course I’ve also lost my mom
and dad, both sets of grandparents, other aunts and uncles, and many other
friends, many of them here at Elim. I don’t think it’s possible to experience
living until you are in your 60s without the shared experience of loss and
grief.
What buoys us up in the midst of
such loss? What sustains us and helps us to keep going? It’s hope.
Hope tells me that Rob and I will
have lunch once again. It tells me that I will be joyfully reunited with my
parents and other lost loved ones, and that we will together explore the hills
of heaven and enjoy a deeper and more personal knowledge of our Savior when we
do.
Hope also reassures me that God
knows what he is doing in a church which experiences the loss of a pastor and
friend like Martin!
Hope is not wistful or wishful thinking, like our culture sometimes thinks it is: “Wow, I really hope that happens ….” No, it’s something completely different. Hebrews 11:1 assures us: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” So hope is all tied up in this package with faith and conviction. It’s something you believe, because the God who is faithful and who keeps His promises says that it is so.
And it has occurred to me more than once, and more vividly recently, that if we can trust God to reunite us with our loved ones, if we can trust Him when He promises life eternal, we can also trust Him when He plainly tells us other things. In one sense, smaller things … things like: “Do not fear” (which he repeats over and over again in Scripture), or promises of His presence with us now, or of His imminent return, or promises that if we ask for the good gift of the Holy Spirit, He will grant that Gift.
While the pain of loss and grief diminishes over time, I don’t think it ever disappears completely in this life. But the promise of hope tells us there is a life coming when Christ will “wipe every tear from our eyes” (Rev. 7:17 and 21:4). Loss will then be a distant and powerless memory, when we are confronted with the reality of the coming Kingdom, eternal life, and the King in all His glory!
I’ve been thinking about and working on the challenge Pastor Steve shared Sunday: What letter might Christ write to us, just as He wrote to the seven churches in Asia Minor through John? Part of that assignment is, what might Christ commend in our church? For me, I think the answer is that Elim is a place that has, for me, nourished hope. We are excitedly and expectantly, together, looking forward to that day when He will wipe away our tears!
P.S.: Go here if you’d like to contribute to a special memorial campaign for a
project that was near and dear to Rob’s heart, life-saving clean water in
Malawi. Or click for
the Gofundme page set up to help
Rob’s family.
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