Is There Room in Your Heart?

We all make time for the things that really matter to us.  We find a way to do them.  Take a very common aspect of daily living - sports.  I recently watched the Iowa Hawkeyes march to victory in the Holiday Bowl in California.  They won convincingly, after a respectable college football season to boot.  I was proud to be a Hawkeye fan that day.  

The game lasted about three hours (give or take).  From time to time, one of my children would ask if I could change the channel to something else.  I said "no", and found myself becoming increasingly annoyed.  How could they possibly want to separate me from my beloved sports team bowl game?  Can't they see how important it is?  Can't they tell what's at stake?

After all the excitement was over, I wondered to myself: maybe it would have been okay to change the channel ... at least for a little bit?  It appears that I had make a three hour section of time off limits for anything else in my life.  We make time for the things that we really want to do.

Years ago, I used to play a board game with my family called Trivial Pursuit.  This consisted of moving little plastic "pies" around the game board, based on whether or not I could correctly answer questions about trivia.  One section of the pie was for entertainment, one for history, etc.  If you were able to answer enough questions correctly for a particular subject, you would be rewarded with a slice of uniquely colored pie.  The goal was to fill up your little 'plastic pie' with every slice.  

I believe it stands to reason that if we think of this as an allegory about modern living, then we can assert we all have a "pie chart" that we could draw for our own lives.  Maybe one section is for money, one section for work, one section for God, etc.  In the board game, each section of the pie was the same size.  But not so with real life.  Often, if we are being honest, I think our slice for God is rather small. We might make time to watch every single college football game during the season, but find it difficult to make it to church service on Sunday morning.  All of our slices are not the same size.

If our own personal pie chart corresponds to the alignment of our heart, then the question stands - have we made enough room in our heart for God?  

An easy way to think about this is to address the universal concept of forgiveness.  Why pick this concept instead of something else?  Because I think unforgiveness is as difficult of a subject for Christians as it is for anyone else.  At no point in time, between the beginning of all things until now, has there been a point where man hasn't struggled with this notion.  In fact, I think that if they ever print a version of the Bible without any of the red text (especially the areas that teach on forgiving each other), many would celebrate.  It is so very easy to allow grudges and unforgiveness to dominate our pie chart.

In Matthew 18:22, when Peter comes to Jesus and asks how many times he must forgive someone who has done him wrong, Jesus says, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."

The import is obvious, even if you don't know the symbolic meaning of the number seven in Scripture.  Essentially, we must forgive people all the time.  Now I won't dwell too long on whether or not this means we must invite people who have hurt us back into our lives (I don't think this is always wise).  But rather, Jesus is telling us here that it isn't okay to go thirty years holding a grudge against someone.  We must eventually forgive these people from our hearts, and simply wish them well.  I may not invite the person who cheated me out of some money to dinner, but I'm not allowed to be mad at them forever either. 

Sounds simple, right?  Not so much.  If forgiveness was the standard process, then the world would look and act a lot differently.

The Francis Chan book Crazy Love recounts many stories about people who are actually  living out the Christian faith with reckless abandon.  One account in particular struck a chord with me.  It comes in chapter nine, when Chan talks about a woman named Rachel Saint (no pun intended).  She was a missionary who found herself drawn to a tribe of people who lived in Ecuador called the Waorani Indians.  They were a fierce people, known for bloodshed and murder.  Forgiveness had no quarter with this group of indigenous people.  In fact, new visitors didn't always come back alive! 

After many years, the Waorani tribe eventually took Rachel in, and listened to her recount stories about the Gospel in their own language.  Their culture of revenge and hatred was eventually transformed by God's love.  This is the ideal outcome for any mission work I would think.  But it wasn't a group of people or a large church that accomplished this.  It was God, working through one person, over a period of time.  Rachel's pie chart contained only one slice, and that was obedience to God's Word.

Have we made room in our hearts for God's edicts of love, compassion, and obedience?  How many redundant slices have we accumulated in our own personal pie chart?  Is the slice dedicated to God the largest one?  

My heart-felt advice is ultimately to simply toss out the idea that we should put God into one drawer in an overcrowded desk.  Give up your whole heart to Him, and let everything else fall where it may.  This attitude may lead you to Ecuador like Rachel, or it may lead you down the street to a neighbor's house.  Either way, we make time for the things we really love.  Make sure one of those things is God.



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Keepers of the Aquarium

I would like to begin by quoting a Scripture from Matthew 4:18-20.  It says, "As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two bothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew.  They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fisherman.  'Come, follow me,' Jesus said, 'and I will send you out to fish for people.'  At once they left their nets and followed him."

I noticed something in particular about this passage right away.  Namely, that there was an immediacy surrounding the entire situation.  Scripture says these men were fisherman, and we know that this occupation was fairly stable in first century Palestine.  But as soon as Jesus recruited them, it appears they left what they knew at the drop of a hat.  It would be similar to you and I deciding to leave a cushy job with the government maybe, and then cleaning out our desks and following a strange man into the wilderness to spread the Gospel message.  

The fact remains that they responded to God's call, despite the fear and uncertainty that must have been present.  The Bible also says in other areas of the New Testament, that sheep know their Shepherd's voice.  In this metaphor, Jesus is the good shepherd and his followers are the sheep.  Simon Peter and Andrew knew and trusted God's voice when they were called.  

Would we do the same?  Would we leave the comfort of what we know to serve God in this unabashed sort of way?  Or if we are getting down to basics, the question really becomes: do we know His voice well enough to demonstrate the same immediacy that Peter and Andrew did?

I believe that to be fishers of men (and women) often equates to evangelism.  This means going out into the world and talking about Jesus to other people.  Now this can be stressful of course, not only for the person doing the teaching, but also for those listening!  Have you ever been trapped in an elevator for example, with someone who made you feel uncomfortable?  I think this is the feeling we get when evangelism goes poorly.  The recipient cannot wait for the doors to open and the ride to be over.  We must be careful with the methods we choose to employ.

If we are preparing to fish for souls, then it follows we must check our nets as well.  Make sure they are strong and will hold whatever God sends into them.  We must make sure our nets are accomplishing something for the Kingdom of Heaven.  Are they pointing people to Jesus, or are they simply catching and ensnaring people with no further purpose in mind?  The stakes are high on this one.  

A ministry colleague of mine is known for giving the following formula in an effort to test whether or not our fishing nets hold up.  He says you can simply ask the question, 'we do X so that Y will happen.'  It reminds me of one of those algebra equations I had to work through from my high school days.  Remember having to solve for X in math class?

I will give two examples quickly to help illustrate the point.  We do worship service each Sunday morning, so that people can give back to God each week.  Or how about this example ... we hold community dinners occasionally, so that people know the love of Christ through the ministry of local food outreach.  We do X, so that Y will occur.  And "Y" had better be getting us closer to God.

The point is, that if you test a ministry with this formula, and you cannot narrow down how X and Y gets someone closer to Jesus, then you need to re-think your ministry.  It has failed the formula exam.

Now I think it goes without saying unfortunately, that these dead ministries do exist.  From time to time, you will visit a church (or maybe you have one of these ministries in your own church) where you cannot account for X and Y - and neither can the people running the ministry!  They are often programs that were set up years and years ago by people who may no longer be at the church, but they fill some type of tradition or provide a little piece of comfort for a handful of congregants.  But they are not drawing people closer to Jesus.  In fact, they may be doing the exact opposite.

People tend to think of these ministries the same way a toddler thinks about one of his or her toys.  "It's mine", you may hear them say, "... and no one can take it away from me or change it in any way."  The impetus is placed on the leader or the program itself, and not God.

I often hear about a famous story that transpired in a church years ago, where the leadership team was charged with deciding what color to paint the walls of the fellowship hall.  Some wanted to leave them white, others wanted blue, still others wanted light green.  No agreement could be reached, so they called in a mediator; someone with no dog in the hunt.  Someone who could be unbiased and simply help them reach a decision.

By the end of the two hour mediation, not only could no one solve for X and Y, but one woman was actually heard to say, "this decision has nothing to do with God anyway!"  A hush fell upon the entire group ... the truth had come out.

I am hoping the meeting took a sharp U-turn after that declaration.  The point is that weak nets don't usually yield many fish.  We must keep God at the center of whatever it is we are doing.

Now all of this discussion begs the question 'how then do we evangelize successfully?'  I think this is an important thing to think about.  Many have pondered whether or not there is a magic formula, or a certain book we can follow, etc.  But in my experience (both personal and as an observer), the most effective strategy appears to be offering a personal invitation.  Bite the bullet, swallow your pride, and simply ask your friend if they would like to come to church with you some time.  You won't keel over with embarrassment, it will be okay. 

And I might also add, an invitation every once in a while is enough - not over and over again every time you see them (remember the uncomfortable feeling in the elevator)?

In truth, I was caught in a similar net years ago.  When I was much younger, I remember entering into a time in my life where I often felt lost.  I felt like there had to be something better out there, or up there, or whatever.  But I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  Sound familiar?  The existential search for meaning is something that affects everyone at different stages of their life I think.

During this time, one of my wife's friends happened to extend an invitation to us for a small group that met once a week in her home.  I didn't know anyone else in that group, and I had no idea what their church was like.  But it was literally a case of right time, right place, right personal invitation.  We began attending the small group, and within four years I was helping to fill the pulpit when the pastor was gone on vacation.  

It's amazing what God can do with our nets when we are prayerful and courageous enough to leave the stability and comfort of our bubble, and step out to follow Jesus.  We may in fact end up being fishers of men.  Our arms get stronger from casting and hauling in nets full of fish.

Keep testing what you are doing in your life and at your church.  Keep applying the X and Y formula.  Is your ministry catching anyone?  If so, is it pointing people toward a Holy and loving God?  Or are you arguing about what color to paint the fellowship hall walls?

There is an old saying I like quite a bit.  I cannot find the original author, but I've heard it a number of times.  It makes use of a marine life metaphor, so it fits with all this talk about nets and fishing.  It goes something like this: if churches can be thought of as  aquariums, then we are to be fishers of men, not keepers of the aquarium.

Maintaining and running a church and it's associated ministries is important, but not if you cannot solve for X.  Not if you aren't pointing people toward God.  We must leave the safety of the aquarium from time to time.  Keep inviting people, keep sewing strong nets, and keep fishing.  And remember always, ultimately you and I don't save people - God does.  So don't take it personally if the aquarium takes a while to become properly stocked.  God often operates on a different time schedule than we do.  So much the better for the fish.




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