Seeing It

Just think of the times when you must be shown.

Bill Bryson writes about how little we know of our ocean – perhaps a millionth or even a billionth of it’s depths. He remarks that we have “better maps of Mars than we do of our own seabeds.” Thought I couldn’t find the exact statistics, each year a disturbing number of previously unknown and disturbing creatures are pulled aboard unsuspecting fishing boats. Creatures so strange they must be seen.

Just think of the time when you must be shown.

All of that leads me to something about the limits of language and the limits of knowledge. There is only so much that words can do and there is only so far that words can take you. Beyond that, true discovery is about touching it, seeing it or in some way being surprised by it. The Psalmist remarks, “Taste and see that the Lord is good”. In many cases and in many ways there is simply just no substitute for stepping into the story and having some part of it surprise you through direct contact.
There are no words and there are no ideas that can convey the power of what is going on in Sub Saharan Africa.

I’d like to take all of this in two directions this Sunday. The first is a challenge to all of you: there is no substitute for stepping into the story of AIDS in Africa for yourself because there are some things that just need to be seen. The second is about an incredible opportunity: you and I can build a kind of compassion that takes our time by surprise. Why? Because there is a whole range of things that only the church can do. You can hear parts of it in Jesus words from John 13:35, “Your strong love for each other will prove to the world that you are my disciples.” Only when you and I build a kind of compassion that no one around us expects will they be brought to the question about Jesus.

I’d like to challenge you about this whole other kind of compassion. It’s something that truly must be seen.

I hope to see you there, and I hope you bring someone with you,

Chris

Dangerous Compassion

It was already too difficult by 10 am on the first day. Perhaps it would have been more effective to simply just get back on the plane resolved to do nothing but step into this one story and do a really good job of addressing it. That’s what I thought as our car pulled away from the house and I tried to beat back an almost irresistible urge to be a father where there was none. I’m still conflicted about my choice. Do I get involved in all of ‘Africa’ (so that I deal only with statistics) or do I get involved in just that one 23 year old’s life (so that I’m dealing with the face behind those statistics)?

Compassion can be a terrible thing to try to manage because it is made of such strong forces. At the same time it is both heavy and disturbing (and hard to shake); but at the same time, it also includes something like a thrill (at least when you act on it, anyway). It is something you can experience on a scale of one (as in one person) or on the scale of nations and regions and continents (as in Africa). And in addition to all of this, I believe we will either be shaped by it (and that can be costly – you may never get your safe and comfortable life back) or become immune to it (and that can be even more costly – you become an island of one closed in on yourself). All of this amounts to something which can be a ‘terrible thing’ to try to manage, but manage it we must.

On this latest trip to Africa, I found myself looking for some place in between the full blown ‘mess’ of ‘we’ve got to do something about this crisis!’ and the kind of compassion that is reduced to a monthly automatic withdraw (so we can say ‘hey I’m doing my part!’). Surely there is something in between those two extremes! What I came up with is something that can only be resolved by our presence – actually by your presence. None of the stuff we give could ever take the place of showing up. Would you be willing to stop and really think about that? None of the stuff we give could ever take the place of showing up. Your real gift is your self – not just your stuff.

Anything having to do with compassion usually ‘lands’ on compulsion saying something like “You’ve got to do something”. But I’m not sure that does it justice. Every time I step into someone else’s story I find myself saying, “I can’t believe I get to do this.” Every time I step personally into someone else’s story I find a bit more of myself by accident. Christ’s kingdom hints at this powerful secret. Perhaps God has laid out all your best possibilities like bread crumbs along the path to serving someone else. Maybe you need to give us much as anyone else needs to receive.

I think some of my most important work overseas has been just looking into someone else’s eyes so that they knew they were worth more than food, clothing and shelter. It shows that they were worth showing up for. There are few things closer to the heart of Christ’s own mission than that. After all that’s exactly what He did 2,000 years ago – He showed up.

Hands at Work is developing a program in Africa called “Footprints” and it’s designed to engage people with all kinds of opportunities to do just that (to show up). Giving it some deep consideration may be one of the most powerful (and perhaps dangerous) things you’ve done in a long time. I hope you do it none the less.

I hope to see you Sunday and I hope you bring someone with you.

Chris

3 Sentences on Stopping

Most weeks I try to write something that has some sort of a ‘lead in’ followed by ‘the point’ and often a ‘so what’ at the end. Every once in a while, however, I feel drawn to just say it. This is one of those weeks.

If you’re anything like me, then you spend a lot of time struggling over time itself. Where does it all go? And if you’re anything like me, then you also struggle to meet your own expectations. Why are they so often out of reach? These two things often mean I’m desperately trying to squeeze more out of a single day than a single day can hold.

This leads me to three sentences from my journal that hit me in a very simple, very ‘matter of fact’ way earlier this morning. It ties in with a presentation I did on the sacredness of rest a few Sundays back and it’s all about ‘stopping’.

-You can’t do more than one day’s worth of work in any given day (even when it’s a great day).

-To try to go further is to take a step where nothing exists to hold your foot.

-It takes as much faith to walk away at the end of a great day’s work (and leave the rest to Him) as it did to get up and start it in the first place.

Have a great weekend,

Chris

Job Opening
I’ve been challenging the staff at Westside to participate in at least two ‘big’ things together: to (1) Change the way Canadians think about the Jesus story and (2) To tell a different story of leadership within the church. If that’s something you might be interested in, we have a position available as part of our office administration team. For more details, email us at westsidepeoplesearch@wkc.org.

A Plastic Knife

I unfolded some napkin-wrapped utensils in a restaurant at an airport recently to find a metal fork coupled with a plastic knife. The combination looked silly and it felt like a mistake. Plastic knife, metal fork. Did someone just not notice? Had the restaurant run out? Were they madly doing dishes trying to catch up?

But of course it wasn’t a mistake. It’s one of those unexpected but poignant reminders that it’s possible for one person to change history. In fact, it’s astounding. 7 years after the fact (9/11), we are still unpacking the effect of one man’s ideas filtered through 19 hijackers one terrible Tuesday morning. How much inconvenience has been created as millions of people on thousands of flights diligently measure their shower gel into 100ml containers sealed in clear plastic bags measuring 6 inches by 6 inches? Multiply that by 365 days times 7 years and counting… It’s astounding. How much sheer effort and inconvenience has been created in the wake of all that?

One person really can change history.

Of course that idea finds about as much traction in me as it does in you. Yes, it’s technically and factually true. It’s as true as the fact that human beings can leave our atmosphere and orbit the earth on spacecraft. But that doesn’t mean it will ever happen to me. One person really can change history. But can you choose to be that person? Can anyone? Perhaps our place in history made Osama as much as he made this place in our history.

I really want to avoid writing some ‘good to hear’ motivational piece that never really finds a hold on decisions we’re making. Instead, let’s practice some tough thinking. The issue isn’t about whether or not we can have an impact. The issue is one of scale and recognition. You can change someone’s world as much as the events of 9/11 have changed ours. In fact you could do it right now through any number of Aid agencies addressing the tragedy of Sub Saharan Africa. It’s compassion on a scale of one. There often isn’t any recognition for it but it is no less powerful – at least not to that one whom you help.

Think about it… You can change someone’s world as much as 9/11 changed ours. It’s a part of the challenge of the Jesus based life and it’s why I’m on my way to Africa right now. The crisis in Sub Saharan Africa is just one of those things in history for which we were made: we can become the missing piece that takes our world by surprise. This isn’t about the duty or the obligation or the tragedy… It’s about the adventure of life as He intended it to be. This is not about what you have to give… It’s about finding yourself in the gift!

Have you found yourself in the gift, yet?

Something to consider.

Have a great weekend,

Chris

Updates
One of our top priorities over the past 8 months has been to build a dream team of leaders on staff at Westside King's Church. We’re making a commitment to each other to (1) find great people and (2) take each other’s excuses away. We have a position available as part of our office administration team. If you think you might be interested in something a little more purpose-based and passion directed, let us know. Email us at westsidepeoplesearch@wkc.org.