Captain Bill's Appeal

I was at a friend's memorial service recently. He was a prominent figure in the community, so the funeral chapel was packed. In addition to fellow believers, the place was filled with people from virtually every conceivable walk of life. My friend's business and personality connected him with an amazing variety of people. Suits and ties sat next to tattoos and piercings. Conservative Evangelicals spoke words of sympathy alongside adherents of alternative lifestyles.

As someone who craves opportunities to share the Good News of Jesus with people, I felt my heart beating fast over the possibility of hearing words that could transform many lives.

After some preliminary levity, some words of introduction, and some kind words from the family, I wondered if the opportunity would be seized. That's when Captain Bill stepped to the microphone.

I wondered who this guy was. He was standing in the back. Clearly, he wasn't a family member. He wasn't the pastor, but he held a Bible and strode purposefully to the podium. He introduced himself as Bill, a charter captain and good friend of the family. Fishing trips for hire had morphed into a close bond between him and my friend.

Bill was a military veteran who suffered chemical poisoning in Vietnam. He almost died a few years ago. My deceased buddy sat by his side and drove him home from the hospital. They had a special bond. Bill went on to talk about the bedrock of that bond. This common man with skin made leathery by the sun and a body gaunt from illness so his suit hung baggily from his body, began to lift up the name of Jesus Christ.

This man had been through the ringer, and with the authority of someone who had been beaten up by the rigors of life, he urged the group to the only hope we have. His Scripture-saturated language carried love and truth without sounding pious or self-righteous. His call to trust in Jesus Christ came across as a testimony to his deceased friend, not as an attempt to put more souls on his scorecard. Captain Bill's appeal captured the moment for Jesus. It was authentic, moving, appropriate, and caring.

As I listened, I realized that two things had happened in this man's life. First, he was discipled very well. Someone had shown him the way to walk with Jesus and let the Word of Christ dwell in him richly. Second, someone had given him permission--perhaps a mandate--to go and share, to make disciples, to never let the Gospel stop with himself.

Captain Bill's appeal showed me that a serious effort to equip and send the saints is of utmost importance. Pastors and professionals will rarely be in the situation to reach people who are far outside the borders of the church. Pastors and professionals will not always be heard as attentively by those outside the borders, either. We need people like Captain Bill. The Kingdom of God needs people like Captain Bill. A lost world needs people like Captain Bill.

Do you think you are here to do it all yourself? Are you saving the great opportunities for you? Or are you letting go of your pride by respecting God's people, equipping them passionately, and sending them urgently to do what Captain Bill did?

Counterintuitivity

In a thought-provoking book review, Andrew Stark of The Wall Street Journal, reviews John Kay's book "Obliquity." The premise of the book is compelling. Kay asserts: "When it comes to major goals, whether in life or in business, one can pursue them best by deliberately not pursuing them."

Stark summarizes Kay's case studies of a variety of companies and historical figures as the author establishes his premise that "we can attain a desired goal only by pursuing it indirectly." (Thank you to Rev. Robert Holaday for the link to the article which you can read in full here)

This counterintuitive direction offers us some Easter clarity. Jesus was never desperate to build a following, but many followed. Jesus never tried to woo people to a religious system, but many put their faith in Him. Jesus never set out to change the world, yet His sacrificial death and triumphant resurrection changed everything.

What does this mean for our Easter existence? It reinforces good old Lutheran counterintuitivity. You know, paradox.

- If you see to save your life, you'll lose it. But if you lose your life for Christ, you'll find it.

- If you pretend your sins don't exist, they'll take on a life of their own and crush you. If you confess your sins and bring them out into the open, you will be completely cleansed and freed.

These are a couple of the beautiful paradoxes of life in Christ.

What does it mean for your ministry?

It means that keeping the main thing the main thing will lead to a God-pleasing and effective ministry. It means that when you live out the reason you've been sent, the details will come together. As Jesus said in Matthew 6, "Seek first the reign of God and His righteousness, and all your needs will be provided to you as well."

You've been sent to spread the reign of God and His righteousness. This mission ("mission" is the Latin word for "sent") flows from the living Word of God that testifies to the risen Christ. If you spread the reign of God to people around you and to your community, much follows:

- people who worship God
- church life
- active prayer
- healthy giving of money for the mission
- orthodox belief
- mutual affirmation and consolation
- justice and righteousness among humanity
- passionate outreach to people who don't know Christ
- persistent multiplication of Christian community

Of course, you rejoice in and fuel these developments. But you pursue one thing: the reign of God.

What might be getting in the way of this counterintuitive pursuit? Your need for self-assurance? Your fear of unorthodoxy? Your hesitance to do more work? Your desire to be in complete control?

What do you need to stop pursuing so you can seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and let God establish the fullness of His reign?