Last week at a restaurant in Grand Ledge, Michigan, I talked with another church refugee, a retired steelworker named Tim who spoke of a spiritual journey that was characterized by perpetual fear. As young boys he and his twin brother had been adopted by a stiff Baptist woman and her husband, and her modus operandi for raising children was to instill the fear of God in them at an early age. And then hold that thought for a lifetime.
Down through the years Tim was always afraid. Afraid of doing anything wrong. "I felt like if I even brought a pencil home from work and didn't return it, I would go to hell," he told me, and in his eyes I could almost see that look of worry returning even as he shared his experiences with me.
But things had changed for him later in life, and I asked him what made the difference. Without a word he pointed at his wife, Carol. She was actually his second wife, who he had married in his late forties, and she brought with her grace and confidence in the Lord that he had not seen before. Her family was conservative evangelical as well, but there was an abiding sense of acceptance and peace in that family, and lots of love. And it seemed to carry over, or carry down, if you will, from a source not only deep within them, but also from somewhere above.
Though Tim's life has been slowly evolving from a sense of condemnation to a place of acceptance by God and the people closest to him, the journey has taken awhile. The most recent additive that really boosted his sense of spiritual well-being was his reading of Rob Bell's book, Love Wins.*
"I feel like I can breathe now," he told me, and a look of enthusiastic relief crossed his face as he recalled Bell's ideas about heaven and the great love of God from this popular new book. "We are now invited to live a whole new life without guilt or shame or blame or anxiety. We are going to be fine," says Bell (Love Wins, p. 172), and Tim looks like he finally believes it.
Coming away from my conversation with Tim I felt a sense of relief for him and the growing numbers of exiles who have left a land of emotional and spiritual imprisonment perpetuated by a judgmental religious empire. I recall the words of my friend after visiting the traditional conservative church that we had left awhile earlier saying, "The guards are still there, but the prisoners have left!" Wow, that says it.
But there are still multitudes left within those walls. Why is it that so many continue to live their entire lives under Old Testament law, when Christ's freedom is waiting for them? One of my favorite stories that depicts the contrast between the Law and Grace is the one about the woman who was caught in the act of adultery and brought to Jesus (John 7). Those who wanted to stone her had the Law on their side. And Jesus, as God, had the power and authority to order her to be stoned to death. But he didn't condemn her. He had the right to, but he didn't. Grace prevailed.
And I think that's the difference that Tim has discovered between living under the Law or living under Grace. God has the right to condemn us, but because of Christ and the cross, mercy prevails.
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| Tim & Carol |
Now Tim's going to hold that thought. For a lifetime. Because love wins, he can breathe now.
* Rob Bell, Love Wins, A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. 2011, Harper Collins Publishers
This weekend is Memorial Day weekend, and I'm glad I won't be going to church. It's not that I'm protesting anything, because I rarely attend church anyway, but at this time of year I'm keenly aware of the discomfort that a pacifist experiences while attending Memorial Day services in any conservative congregation in America. After all, many conservative Christians in this country equate love for God with love for country.
So I am proposing an alternative memorial to those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, not for their country, but for the Lord and the lost of the world: Christian missionaries and martyrs. For all Christians there exists a greater purpose than defending national freedoms, for there exists a greater Kingdom than any worldly kingdom or nation.
When do Christian martyrs get their day of tribute? What day is set aside for honoring missionaries who sacrifice their entire lives in obscure god-forsaken jungles and ghettos for the sake of a higher calling? What parades march through town with banners and firetrucks and marching bands in honor of their supreme sacrifice? I know of none.
Now I'm not about to organize a parade or a picnic or to enlist the local marching band to rally, but in my own small way, I will see that the unsung heroes of the faith will have my appreciation and my respect this weekend, even as I am honoring the soldiers and troops who have given all for their country.
When I see Old Glory being paraded down the street this weekend I will remember not only fallen American soldiers, but also my late Aunt Esther, who invested her life in an obscure village in Sierra Leone, Africa, as a medical missionary. I will salute Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, and the other young men who were slaughtered by the Auca Indians in Ecuador whom they were determined to reach with the gospel. I'll remember missionary Graham Staines and his two young boys, trapped in his car and burned alive by Hindu fundamentalists in India in 1999. I will breathe a prayer of thanks for my own daughter and son-in-law who were sent into hiding and frantically evacuated from India dodging roadblocks under cover of darkness after receiving violent threats from Hindu extremists. I will think of the thousands of believers over the centuries who have lived and died under tyrants who have sought to wipe out Christianity from the face of the earth.
Don't get me wrong here. I don't disrespect the sacrifices that American troops have made for their country and our freedom. I just think there should be equal time for those who have answered an even higher calling... and who have given their lives for their Lord and His kingdom.
Your local pastor is not likely to observe my new Memorial Day tribute in the church services this Sunday. But you, my readers, can join me in this quiet observance that honors multitudes of Christian martyrs and missionaries the world over. When you see a flag waving this weekend, remember those who have sacrificed everything for the Lord, think about that missionary you know who has endured lifelong hardship and risk, and pray God will raise up one more generation of prayer warriors and people-lovers who, without any fanfare or flag-waving, will continue the global mission.
