The Power of Place
Greg Kendall-Ball and Extremist and other readers have been having a nice little row about the effect of place and politics on faith and Christians’ responsibilities flowing from those implications. Their abstractions, which I respect and enjoy, speak to a real struggle my family has been feeling lately.
I’m not a Calvinist or “Reformed” in that Presbyterian sense, but I pine daily for some insight on the effect of our individual places in space, in history, in politics, in church. How does the Lord drop us into our circumstances over which we initially and ultimately have no control? Is our destination at birth by His design? Are our fates consigned by the accident of our births? I think that both of these questions have universal implications that may just end up in the same place.
Either way, Jesus taught us something that transcends the question of our destiny, whether we’re born in North Korea or the United States of America. He calls us to be salt and light, leaven in the bread, wherever we find ourselves. He calls us to faith and service in whatever and all circumstances, poor or rich, ill or well, and promises that He abides with us there, too. We spend a whole lot of time fretting over historical forces and macro-politics, and rightly so, probably, but we often neglect that salt and light business. We can appreciate and debate the wonder of our American republican democracy, but even if we were living in a feudal hut harvesting filth, we’d still be called to hospitality, love, charity and service to our neighbors, the very folks under our noses whom God has seen fit to give us to serve. What does it profit us if we get our foreign policy right, but our colleagues, secretaries, clients, cashiers, housekeepers, and next-door neighbors don’t know Whose we are?
One of my greatest temptations in life is the desire to be significant, globally, historically significant, worthy of remembrance for generations. I long to leave a mark on the greater mass of humanity. I believe He’s teaching me another lesson, though, because that one is rooted in vanity, no matter how righteous I hope the mark is. We pray and pray and pray for Him to lead us. Where are we going God? Where are we going God? Only to realize that we are where He’s leading us, because He’s been leading us all along. In one of our pained conversations on this subject, Kile said, “The Lord is the Lord, so His will will be done because of Who He is.” That’s true, so maybe I’m a Calvinist after all.
I’m not a Calvinist or “Reformed” in that Presbyterian sense, but I pine daily for some insight on the effect of our individual places in space, in history, in politics, in church. How does the Lord drop us into our circumstances over which we initially and ultimately have no control? Is our destination at birth by His design? Are our fates consigned by the accident of our births? I think that both of these questions have universal implications that may just end up in the same place.
Either way, Jesus taught us something that transcends the question of our destiny, whether we’re born in North Korea or the United States of America. He calls us to be salt and light, leaven in the bread, wherever we find ourselves. He calls us to faith and service in whatever and all circumstances, poor or rich, ill or well, and promises that He abides with us there, too. We spend a whole lot of time fretting over historical forces and macro-politics, and rightly so, probably, but we often neglect that salt and light business. We can appreciate and debate the wonder of our American republican democracy, but even if we were living in a feudal hut harvesting filth, we’d still be called to hospitality, love, charity and service to our neighbors, the very folks under our noses whom God has seen fit to give us to serve. What does it profit us if we get our foreign policy right, but our colleagues, secretaries, clients, cashiers, housekeepers, and next-door neighbors don’t know Whose we are?
One of my greatest temptations in life is the desire to be significant, globally, historically significant, worthy of remembrance for generations. I long to leave a mark on the greater mass of humanity. I believe He’s teaching me another lesson, though, because that one is rooted in vanity, no matter how righteous I hope the mark is. We pray and pray and pray for Him to lead us. Where are we going God? Where are we going God? Only to realize that we are where He’s leading us, because He’s been leading us all along. In one of our pained conversations on this subject, Kile said, “The Lord is the Lord, so His will will be done because of Who He is.” That’s true, so maybe I’m a Calvinist after all.
posted by JRB at 9:48 AM
3 Comments:
It will be interesting someday to see which "world events" turned out to be important in God's eyes. Not too much Roman political history is included in Scripture except what is necessary as backdrop to the real story. And events like the widow giving her mite, or an unknown woman washing Jesus' feet with her tears, get recorded as really significant moments in time.
I think you have something very important, and I struggle with it, too. Thanks for this.
Being kind is better than being right.
The first shall be last, and the last shall be first.
Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.
I don't really know what those three things have to do with each other or with the subject matter, but all three thoughts came to mind while reading it. I think the whole thing is just this: no matter our circumstances, how we react to them is the important thing, and the important part of that is to be directed outward. If we get that right, none of the rest of it matters.
Also, lots of chrome on 23 inch rims. That matters.
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