"I was a stranger and you invited me in..."
The world's not safe.
Deja vu. I get it. This is another one of those issues where I
frequently take heat from both sides. I
used to be afraid of everything, and then one day, I just wasn't. But it's interesting to note that even when I
was afraid, God always seemed to kick
in some courage and compassion when I needed it. This is where the real life stories
begin.
- Stories like the pregnant high school dropout who crashed on our couch for a couple of weeks, because she had nowhere else to go.
- Or the sex offender who dropped by to play video games and ended up on his knees in front of our coffee table, surrendering his life to Jesus.
- Or the drug addict who brought his family to our house once a week for dinner and whose children were being discipled by mine in the backyard, on the swingset.
We can't be isolationists if we want to be disciples. It will never work. Disciples disciple
other people, and let's face it, we need to reach out to people who don't have
anyone else. This is not a very popular
worldview, but it has occurred to me that it is quite possible to participate
in everything a local church does and to be far more isolated than you might
ever imagine. I love the Church. I really mean that. But I also love the community that will never
set foot in one of our traditional church buildings. I'm not willing to sacrifice one for the
other. Either one. You might want
to consider whether you actually want to adopt that standard for yourself,
though, because it will get you into all kinds of fantastic trouble. Believe me.
I know.
Interestingly, entertaining strangers comes at a steep price
and also brings with it unexpected blessings.
"Do not forget to entertain strangers for by so doing
some people have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those who are in prison as if you
were their fellow prisoners and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves
were suffering" (Hebrews 13:2-3, NIV, 1984).
Perhaps it is easy for me to remember those who are
mistreated, because I, myself, am
suffering, have suffered. And with this
comes a thought that someone else has shared with me in recent days. We are
the least of these. Just think that
through. I'm not talking about our vast
wealth compared to the majority of the world, but most of us have a narrative
that includes suffering of some kind. I
have long since abandoned the band wagon of "everything happens for a
reason" and "God is in control" platitudes, but what if we took
our painful life experiences and shared them with others who are hurting? What if we partnered with God to bring some reason to the suffering?
I think of the story of Joseph often, and I
am completely sold on the idea that God did not hope or will that Joseph would
be abused by his brothers, sold into slavery, deceived, lied about, or
imprisoned. However, just because things
happen that God doesn't want to happen does not mean that they cannot be
redeemed. As Joseph says, "you
planned evil against me but God used those same plans for my good, as you see
all around you right now—life for many people." (Genesis 15:20, TM).
What if we took all of our pain and allowed
God to transform it into life for others?
For strangers? I'm in...
L.
