Category: compassion

A New Face, or a New Heart?

“The church is not a select circle of the immaculate, but a home where the outcast may come in.”

“It is not a palace with gate attendants and challenging sentinels along the entrance ways holding off at arm’s length the stranger, but rather a hospital where the brokenhearted may be healed, and where all the weary and troubled may find rest and take counsel together.”

—James H. Aughey

We live in challenging times. As people of faith, we’re slowly learning what Jesus really wants us to recognize. It seems every generation must understand all over again. Sometimes it seems we are taking two steps forward, and one step back.

Oh well.

The Church must reacquaint itself with the total love of God for all people once again.

The Father hasn’t given up on us. Repeatedly, over and over, (and then over again) we learn about His unreal faithfulness to the Church and His love for all people. But sometimes we have a hard time believing these things. Honestly, we’re not what we should be, but thank God we’re not like we were. We’re learning this as well.

He’s more faithful than the most loyal person who has ever lived!

And we also must understand this. He is always seeking those who are on the margins: the lame, blind, sick and crippled. But thank God He’s still in the business of ‘collecting’ people who are desperate. (And if you can’t really see this, perhaps you should.)

The Church, and the churches we attend, are meant for those who are sick–the outcasts. It’s primarily a hospital, and the “sentinels” (pastors and elders, and others) must understand this. We must know and believe this. And we must know for ourselves the love “that passes all understanding.”

Jesus loves everyone, but if you must know, He’s specifically looking for the outcasts.

A really good study is those persons in scripture, who in their neediness, scream out “Son of God, have mercy on me.” There are 4-5 in the Gospels who said that. Although they modify this plea/prayer in slightly different ways, all of them are terribly desperate.

I encourage you to study this out, and get a deep handle on it. 

Our churches mustn’t lose sight of this kind of love, and if your fellowship isn’t doing this, just maybe you’re the one called to implement it. And if this isn’t possible, you might consider moving on. (I loathe to advise this.)

But please reject ‘the country club’ version of the Church.

It isn’t right and it’s not the heart of God. It’s religion that comes to us in its gradient forms of foolishness. It doesn’t really reflect the intense seeking of God. Somehow, along the way, churches got lost in the routine efforts of a religious routine.

The challenge is not just getting seekers to renounce the pigpen like the prodigal did. Most understand and are ready to do this. But sometimes the issue is within us, the Church– we dare not become the older brother– (Luke 15:1-2 and vv. 30-32). Usually we will be one or the other.

The question facing the Church is this:

Do we want to see face lifts, or a heart transplant?

One is for looking better, the other describes an entire overhaul. One is cosmetic, the other is a matter of life and death and reaches the heart. One is relatively minor, the other is definitely not. What kind does your Church have?

We really must sort this out.

I suppose the sooner the better.

Cutting a Rose (Death)

There’s been a death in my family. A young man just 24 years old passed a week ago. He was the only child of my aunt and uncle, and they are rightfully devastated. The whole thing is pain on steroids–as awful as it gets. Shock and grief is saturating our family.

We’re all asking why.

A young man who’s just learning how to live is gone. He was in the springtime of his life. His faith in Jesus was just beginning, and he was starting to sort things out, just like we all do. He is gone, but we’ll meet him again.

“Who gathered this flower?’ The gardener answered, ‘The Master.’ And his fellow servant held his peace.”

I wonder if the shock will ever wear off. I suppose it will, but it will come little by little. Jesus must have time to heal and hold in the meantime. He promised us.

Grief on this level defies words of human comfort and consolation. I am frustrated to counsel pain on this level. I’m ashamed when I do. I keep my mouth shut and that’s not easy for me.

There’s terrible guilt, anger and isolation.

The Holy Spirit is strongly emphasizing prayer now. I realize that only He can heal, guiding their suffering and healing to an outcome they can’t see. I know, I am certain that Jesus will come and touch his parents, but perhaps our intercession is what it will take to make this happen.

We must stand against Satan and push him away.

In the olden days, medicine was dispensed in powder form, not pills. The pharmacist would measure out a powder to give to the sick. In a sense, this is what God does. He carefully gives what is needed and not a grain more than necessary. I believe this.

Please don’t condemn yourself for speaking trite and inadequate words. You must rest in God’s work now, and realize that only He can heal and comfort pain and anger on this level. Job’s friends were at their best when they said nothing.

Sometimes all you can do is pray fervently. And that is enough.

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Revelation 21:7

For People Who Walk in Pain

“While he was in one of the cities, there came a man full of leprosy. And when he saw Jesus, he fell on his face and begged him, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.”

Luke 5:12. ESV

The man is desperate.  His leprosy has advanced; he is covered with it from ‘head-to-toe.’ He’s an outcast now, completely infected by something he never asked for; he is ‘unclean’ and completely without hope. There is no treatment, the doctors can do nothing. How bad can it get?

The leper knows that without the touch of Jesus, he will never be healed. 

He knows it; he doesn’t need to be convinced by anyone over the hopelessness of his condition. But somehow he has heard that Jesus can do real miracles. Could it be that Jesus can heal his sickness?

The leper comes and falls on his knees before the Lord, with his face in the dirt. This man is completely broken; he has no hope, except for Jesus. What else can he do? He is with any real hope.

Our diseases differ, but our lives have been completely changed by our pain. We all have this in common. 

Our pain and darkness vary. Some hurt more, some less. But we’ve all come to the place where we no longer have illusions of somehow being made whole. I sometimes think there should be a secret handshake or a password. We all share a comradeship– we’re all part of the same community. 

We’re a broken club of tired and decidedly unclean misfits.

And we belong to the fellowship of pain.

Lying in the dirt, we’re starting to believe the unbelievable.  Our faith doesn’t activate our healing, as much as it simply guides us to Jesus. We can kneel, and perhaps that’s all we need to do. His presence drives away the fear, the doubt, and the pain. He’s come, and somehow maybe, we begin to hope for mercy.

Only Jesus can carry us through this. Only He can do this.

I have struggled with deep dark depression. I’ve had to take meds.  But when I come into Jesus’ presence, all my melancholy is driven out. He comes and I start to hope again.  Am I a stellar example of perfect discipleship?  I think not. But isn’t about us becoming “angels,” perhaps it’s more about us learning how to kneel, and to allow Jesus to touch our hearts.

Some will understand this, others not so much. That’s ok.

“The Church is not made up of whole people, rather of the broken people who find wholeness in a Christ who was broken for us.”   

–Mike Yaconelli

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A Maze of Grace

“For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his Son, so that his Son would be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.”

Romans 8:29, NLT

“Just as we are now like the earthly man, we will someday be like the heavenly man.”

1 Corinthians 15:49

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Much speculation has been made regarding these two ‘pinnacle’ verses. We must approach them humbly to see what they are all about. We must see for ourselves all that concerns us. “They will not hear the voice of a stranger,” (John 10:5).

The Father has decreed, “Christlikeness.’ This is a mandate from the One who loves us unconditionally. (There are no whips being used.) We really need to enter this holy process with a sure confidence of a solid love.

His face burns brighter when we are positioned appropriately in His glory.

It begins now. The heavenly Father’s exclusive purpose is to “bring many sons to glory” (Heb. 2:10). We do not have to wait until heaven to become like Jesus. We can accelerate the joy by starting today. And when He comes, He will ‘clean house,’ (so to speak). Holiness is mandatory to everyone who wishes to walk with Him.

You are one of the selected. Few have the options and opportunities that have been offered. To ‘put on’ Christlikeness is a rare privilege. From this point on, you will move through the confusion as one assured of his place and calling. He has ‘marked’ you, you are His. Everything will move aside in the light of His calling.

I so want you to ‘long for heaven.’ It is the place where we will dwell permanently. But at this point, the Father needs you to ‘hash it out’ on planet Earth. There is a need for volunteers who will come from ‘free will.’ After all, we get to choose Him who holds our destinies within; He alone carries our burdens and sins. He knows me thoroughly, yet loves me still.

You need to decide soon of your next step. But know this– Christlikeness will never be forced or coerced. Yet it is the ‘ride of a lifetime.’ Sheer boredom will probably ‘do-you-in’ if you choose to just ‘pray the prayer’ and walk away.

But you will never know the thrill of standing under God’s grace blasting full over your thirsty heart.

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