Lesson #6- Citizens In The Kingdom Under The King

So if Christ is the King who is coming to reclaim His world, what about us? What do we do? What's our role?

We all know the simple (but not easy) answer: Jesus calls us to follow after him. To take up our crosses. To wash each others' feet. To go and make disciples. After the resurrection, Jesus breathes on the disciples and says "as the Father sent me so send I you." That, coupled with Paul's insistence that the church is the body of Jesus makes it pretty clear that we're to go about living like Jesus is Lord, telling others about Jesus, and embodying the Kingdom of God in our local contexts.

And of course a huge part of this is serving the poor. Moreover, an even more difficult part of living in the shadow of the kingdom is to treat the poor as contributors, even especially valued members of the kingdom community ("for theirs is the kingdom of heaven") rather than as passive needy recipients.

I think the thing that has struck Rebecca and I over the past two years, though, is how often we confess with our mouths that we are servants of the King of kings who has come to make His blessings known throughout the cosmos, and then we deny it with our lives by going about our work half-heartedly or without careful thought. It is so easy, especially when we're working with the poor, to think that just because we showed up, we've done enough. After all, our intentions are so good, and a whole bunch of other folks just stayed home . . . right?

 The nugget of truth here is what John Calvin meant when he talked about how Jesus' work not only cleanses us from sin but even makes our shoddy works great in his kingdom. Jesus takes our filthy-rags righteousness and makes it into something beautiful. But this mentality can become an excuse to neglect careful thinking or hard work.

We almost titled this post "The Importance of Professionalism." While at the end of the day I don't think that language captures the fullness of what we're talking about, I think it's crucial for each of us to realize that Christ doesn't want our leftover moments and half-baked thoughts; He wants our biggest dreams and greatest efforts. If we start a business we probably do all sorts of feasibility studies and serious research; if we want to do medicine we go to nine years of school. But somehow when it comes to working with the poor, we can fall into the lie that all we need are good intentions.

In her memoir about her conversion from orthodox Judaism to Christianity, Lauren Winner writes about how a Jewish mentor of hers would always use sparkling water to make the bread for Passover. Initially Winner wonders why, considering how it costs more and makes no difference in the taste. But eventually her mentor tells her that the bread is an offering, that it is consecrated to the Lord, and that no expense is to be spared. I think that that's a good metaphor for what God wants for us when we serve Him; He wants us to quit bringing those sickly lame lambs and go find the biggest snow-white sheep we can find.

Again and again we have been challenged to read more, ask more questions, talk to wiser counselors, and to work harder. There is so much that we can learn about how to serve in whatever capacity we find ourselves in simply by taking the time to do some research and by hanging out with the more experienced folks around us. Listening is one of my weakest skills in general, but a number of counselors have surrounded me in our work, and we have witnessed real improvement as a result.

The question for all of us as we look at our lives of service is, "Are we offering the first fruits, or the mealy rotting left-overs?" How can we grow in our ability to serve the poor and the marginalized, to work for justice, to do mercy, to care for the widows, orphans, and aliens in our own communities? Who is doing these things well around us that we can learn from?

I've never lived under an earthly king. As an American, I tend to hold fast and loose to authority, and to consider charity and service volunteer activities that I enter into out of my own beneficence. The problem is that my real citizenship isn't in a democratic republic founded on individual freedom. My real citizenship is in a kingdom under the King of kings, who demands my allegiance and service, and who is calling me to get on board with some projects He's working on. I think if I really pondered this and took it to heart, it would radically increase the level of seriousness and energy I'd put towards the work. Maybe that's true for many of us; regardless, it's something Jesus has really hammered home to Rebecca and me these last two years.

May we all grow in our zeal for the Lord's work, and in our willingness to shape our lives around service to Him.

Michael