Hall of Fame

I watched the Hall of Fame induction speeches on Saturday. The theme of each speech was remarkably similar. Each football player recounted how impossible it seemed for him to one day play in the NFL. Speaker after speaker told of their upbringing in poor, working class neighborhoods; in single-parent, disadvantaged surroundings; in an environment that pulled them toward rebellion or despair; in a situation that systematically told them "you can never have a better life." But there they stood, miracles of human beings. Some gave glory to God and praised Jesus. Others sighed in relief and disbelief that their lives were now being cheered by a throng of fans on a sultry night in Canton, Ohio.

I watched. I listened. I saw a picture of heaven.

As I sat in awe at the athletic accomplishments of these men and as I listened to the ups and downs of their lives, I saw that they were being enshrined in spite of their imperfections and in the face of the walls of impossibility that stood before them. Poverty, bad influences, poor decisions? They were being enshrined. Failures, imperfection, stumbles along the way? They were being enshrined. Good games, bad games, bad press, good press? They were being enshrined. On that evening in that place and at that time, their lives were being lifted up. In that moment, they were all good. Everything was just right. Grace covered the blemishes, and their achievements were bigger than life, projected on the giant screen behind them.

I thought of Jesus' dialogue with believers at the heavenly enshrinement in Matthew 25: "Come you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."

The "sheep" responded: "When did we do all this?" Jesus told them, "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."

In other words Jesus enshrined a bunch of lowly, disadvantaged, fragile and failing people. He made their lives all good. Everything was just right. Grace covered their blemishes and their achievements were bigger than life. They were now in God's Hall of Fame.

This applies to you, of course. But it also applies to the people you meet and are with. As a servant of Jesus, you will meet many broken, dysfunctional, hard-to-get-along-with, unreliable, vacillating, insecure, poor-decision-making people. You will get frustrated and be tempted to push them all out of your life. You will be tempted to give up all hope when they don't get their acts together in a timely or efficient way. You will be tempted to lash out when they hurt you or let you down.

But remember, these are God's Hall of Famers. One day, on that Great Day, if these hobbled human beings stumbled along with a shred of faith, they will be enshrined. Their lives will be lifted up. Everything will be good. Grace will have covered their blemishes and they will be celebrated by the throngs of heaven.

That's what God's redemptive gift of His Son has accomplished. Sin-cold corpses have been raised up to stand on the victor's podium. A bunch of nothings will be celebrated as the greatest somethings.

When you feel like you're wasting your time on persistent problem people, press on. You're rubbing shoulders with God's Hall of Famers.

(Church Planting Series, Part forty-two)