http://nakedpastor.com/archives/2294
As I was falling asleep last night my mind fell into deep thought. I was thinking that the further into the mission field you get, the further you get away from God. In a way, the further I go into the world, into the dark world of others’ pain and suffering and need, hopefully with compassion, sympathy and solidarity, it’s at those times when I feel the furthest from Jesus. When Jesus said, “Go!” to his disciples, and they left, they were separated from him. It was only when they returned to his presence that they could rejoice at what had happened.
...I think of some of you reading this right now. This applies to you. I think the furthest a missionary can go, the most missional we can ever become, is where we get to the place where, like Jesus on the cross at the fullest missional expression in history, we say, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That is the missional voice at its best, or at its worst… depending on your perspective.
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From:
http://www.jesusmanifesto.com/2008/09/24/evelyn/
At the end of the talk, a lady came up to me, obviously moved by my story and asked me the question I dread most: “How could God have allowed this to happen to Evelyn? Was this all part of God’s plan?”
If you spend much time working in the inner-city, you try not to ask yourself those kind of questions–not because you don’t know what the answer is, but because you do. Because if you think about it too much you get mad and because if you tell people the answer, you will not be invited back.
What I wanted to tell that lady, but did not, was God did have a plan to take care of Evelyn; God’s plan was us. God’s plan was to put us here to be his hands and feet. We are to show mercy, to love justice. We are to show mercy, as he is merciful. We are to feed those who are hungry, with the assurance that when we do, we are doing it to, and not just for, Jesus himself.
I wanted to tell that lady God did have a plan and we screwed it up.++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From:
http://mission.squarespace.com/-journal/2008/9/24/meltdown.html
Jesus Manifesto has posted "The Death of Evelyn and the Failure of the Church." Definitely worth reading.
My first reaction is simply to say that I can't write that kind of post anymore. I'm just too tired. My second reaction is that it still doesn't answer the question - "How could a loving God allow this to happen?" I mean, seriously - if this is the work of the people who bear God's name why hasn't he stepped in and done something to make us grasp his vision, to make us understand the consequences of not caring for one another, of not living justly?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++The other night, after Dinner was over and a few of us were standing around in the parking lot talking and debriefing and reminding each other that, yes, we do want to keep on this road, we talked about "choosing to be powerless". It's an important thing for us, but one that isn't easy to define.
We were still all a bit raw and angry and twitchy, and one of the team said, "Well, at least you can go home and blog it. It must be therapeutic. All I do is sit and stew."
And yes, I did go home and blog it, but it took me 3 1/2 hours of sitting in my corner, playing mindless puzzle games to get to the point where I could put it into words. I'd walked into the house and been greeted by my 17 year old son with, "So, how did it go?" I'd spat out enough to let my family know the basic outline of the evening, and that was all I could manage for a while, leaving my 14 year old son asking me, "Not to cause trouble, but maybe you need to think about whether it's worth the stress."
Like my compatriot on nakedpastor, I'm feeling the gap between what I expected "mission" to feel like, and the truth of it. Like my colleague on jesusmanifesto, I want to say angry, prophetic things to people who don't seem to get it, and have nothing to offer but platitudes.
But mostly, like my friend on squarespace, I'm getting tired. I think there are a lot of us out here who are getting tired. And worse, having spent all of my life in 'the church', my understanding has always been that if God is in it, if I'm following "God's will for my life", I would feel closer and closer to him, not farther and farther.
For the record, you don't need to pray for the state of my soul. It is well with my soul. I know whom I have believ-ed. And I know what I believe and it keeps me going... "into the dark world of others’ pain and suffering and need, hopefully with compassion, sympathy and solidarity".
But for the first time in my life, the Evelyns of the world are real to me. I can remember reading Greg Paul's book, "God in the Alley" for the first time a few years ago and being amazed and fascinated by the stories. I read it again a few months ago and, as I said to my husband, "This time, I know these people." The addicts and the abused and the mentally ill are real people with names and histories and good intentions and their children's pictures hanging on the wall, beside pictures of their smiling youngerselves, and their own parents.
And it's exhausting. There's nothing romantic about being on this side of missionality. It's nasty and confusing and it smells and the vast majority of tidy Christians, who see all of this through a soft-focus lens, just don't have a clue.
I used to stand in church and sing a song (with a back-up tape). A Twila Paris song called The Warrior is a Child. It contains the lines, "People say that I'm amazing. Never face retreat... But they don't know that I go running home when I fall down. They don't know who picks me up when no one is around." I don't sing that one anymore, but if I did, it would be a lot more truthful now than when I was 14.
For the first time in my life, I'm being seriously challenged. And I'm waiting for the second wind.
r
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