2 Corinthians 13:5-7

Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you? ---unless indeed you fail to meet the test! I hope you will find out that we have not failed the test. But we pray to God that you may not do wrong--- not that we may appear to have met the test, but that you may do what is right, though we may seem to have failed.

2^nd Corinthians 13:5-7

Paul, who has now written two (existent) letters to the Corinthian Christians over the course of which has exhorted his readers to reconcile their behaviors with their new faith in Christ, now closes his second letter with a similarly forceful command. Though not the primary objective of this second letter, Paul was no less concerned with the behavior of this young church than in his first. Indeed the temptation to synchronize their new faith in Christ with their old pagan, hedonistic lifestyle was a very real one for the Corinthians who had lived their pre-Christian days in a society steeped in a culture of idols, self-gratification, and sexual immorality. We, too, live in a similar environment and must learn to identify and combat the synchronistic tendencies that seek to undermine our own walk with Christ.

Toward this end, Paul concludes his letter by encouraging the believers to examine and test themselves. He begins by exhorting them to “examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith.”

First he says, “Examine.” To examine is to carefully inspect. If we are to examine ourselves we have to make a concerted effort at self-reflection. This requires both intent and time. So much of our lives are spent going through the mandatory exertions of life or entertaining ourselves so that, purposefully or not, there is little time for self-reflection. While we may not intend to structure our lives so full of activity and noise that we don’t schedule (yes, it requires scheduling) time to analyze our lives.

“Search me, O God,” the psalmist says, “and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; and see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way.” We need to be willing to lay our hearts bare before the Lord; to be willing even to admit that our heart, mind, and thoughts, are opposed to the Lord’s will. Make no mistake; we must schedule regular time for this self-analysis just as we schedule regular physical check-ups to ensure the health of our bodies. We may, of course, ignore these moments of reflection but we may also someday be disturbed to bitterness, unbelief, or a hundred other sins growing steadily in our unexamined heart.

Continuing from there, Paul calls the Corinthians to examine themselves to see whether they were, in fact, truly believers. If we are not inclined to introspection, we are even less inclined to even entertain the possibility that we may not be true believers. Contrary to popular understanding, it is not unhealthy at any age or level of maturity to inspect our hearts for evidences of regeneration. Prolonged periods of spiritual apathy or sinful regressions should be significant warnings for us to consider the state of our hearts. Due both to a desire to conform to the world and the danger of spiritual warfare it is common (far more common that we consider) to be deceived into believing that we are saved when we are, in fact, not. We need to soberly consider this possibility not with a morbid obsession but with a humble, contrite heart always willing to submit ourselves to Christ and cast ourselves down before Him. Willing even to admit that though we have known about Him, we have never fully surrendered our hearts to Him.

“Test yourselves,” Paul continues. To test something is to compare it against a standard. As believers, our standard is always what is presented in Scripture. As we test our hearts we must always judge ourselves based on the standards outlined in Scripture not on whatever rule we ourselves impose. To test our hearts and motives we must return to an understanding that the Bible is not only trustworthy but authoritative. We must carefully guard ourselves from making anything other than Scripture our standard. It is far easier to do that we would imagine.

We must not let our friends become our standard, for even Christian friends are a poor reflection of the image of Christ and can easily lead us astray. To compare ourselves to non-believers is to build a false sense of security and superiority. We are not called to be ‘better’ than some; we are called to be holy as God is holy.

We must also not hold ourselves to the standard of culture which is, in its best incarnation, only a rough amalgamation of groupthink. Even the best society endorses and ‘believers’ things that are antithetical to the call of God. We must also prevent ourselves from becoming self-satisfied by our own righteousness compared to the immorality of our surrounding culture. We are called to be set apart and pure to be sure, but any degree of purity we experience is a gift of God and is not a cause to rejoice over our own accomplishments or self-righteousness. We are still woefully riddled with sin and impure motives. We have no righteousness apart from Christ and thus should never revel in our comparative brightness in the darkness of our culture.

It becomes far too easy for us to judge ourselves based on what feels good. Even for “Christians” who would claim Christ as their savior it is a tantalizing proposition to cloak our hedonism in righteousness. Though we would claim to renounce the self, we still speak in terms of that belie our still-selfish hearts. We trumpet our ‘dreams’ and ‘what God wants for us’ as though they were incontrovertible truths etched in time. These matters are not our standard. Our only standard is Scripture which defines our purpose entirely differently than simply veiled self-indulgence. In a similar manner, our comfort is also not the standard against which we measure ourselves. Our maturity as believers should not be based on whether we are living ‘safe’, comfortable, or reasonable lives. These patterns are easy to fall into and only serve to justify our fears and apathy. This should not be. Our standard is only to be Scripture and Christ presented therein.

In short, our only standard for faith and Christian maturity is the Bible. Any other means of evaluating ourselves only serves as inappropriate assurance, justification of sin, or a license for judgmental attitudes. If we are to evaluate and test our faith as Paul commands we must have a true standard against which to measure ourselves lest we simply trust again in man-made rules which were our standard when we were lost and deceived.

Finally, we must test to see whether Christ is indeed in us. This is the ultimate test upon which all else is secured. Though indeed manifested through sometimes measurable means, we must never depend on outward behavior as the indicator of our faith for two reasons. First, outward behaviors are too easily manipulated and conducted for false motives. Secondly, our hearts, even with the most noble and godly of intentions are still stricken with the disease of sin. We cannot base our evaluations solely on what we have done or not done though these can, and should be weighed as evidence. Evidence of what, we might ask. Evidence of whether Christ is in us. This answer is the only one of true importance. It concerns not only our present but our future. It goes beyond false motives into the realm of the Spirit’s control. It defines our identity and establishes for us a purpose beyond any vain striving this world can offer. The question of whether Christ resides in our heart is one that should rightfully occupy the attention of any Christian. We need to carefully and prayerfully inspect our thoughts, our actions, and our motives. We must set aside time for periods of sincere self-reflection. Make no mistake, this will cost us something. We must invest our time wisely and not haphazardly or spasmodically. Let us give careful thought. Let us inspect with discerning eyes, pray with humble hearts, and always be willing to submit ourselves immediately to Christ, our Lord when we find any area of sinful stronghold. May we examine; may we test and find only the thing that matters in the end--- Christ dwelling within us.

Justice - A Conversation

“You ever been to Hoist?”

“No.”

“It’s great, really. You hike both loops and you can be out there for two days, three if you take it slow. The last time I was there though I spent the whole night absolutely convinced that a bear was rifling through my things.”

“You’re not really selling it,” the younger man said, shifting in the seat.

“They have pine martens there.”

“I’m not really sure what those are.”

“Or at least the sign in the parking lot said they did. I didn’t actually see them. They’re like a weasel, I think.”

The dawn broke over the freshly tilled fields and a few a few other cars had joined them on the road. The driver, the older of the two men, merged into the left lane to pass one of the many semis with which they shared the road. He wore a dark brown beard that gave his face the air of distinction and poise. Progressing ever northward they passed an exit sign for Mt. Morris, a suburb of Flint.

“It’ll be great. The weather is beautiful this time of year. Cool at night, perfect in the day,” he said.

The rail-thin younger man rested his head on the window and stared down at his phone.

“I’m so tired of being sad,” he intoned.

“Huh?”

“Oh, just Twitter.”

“What now?”

“It’s like every time I go on, something else horrible has happened or someone has said something horrible.”

“Perhaps you should stop going on Twitter?”

“And bury our heads in the sand?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah I know. It’s just. I mean I’m torn. Part of me absolutely wants to do that. To just turn it off and walk away. But then I always wonder: do I have a moral obligation as a believer to represent justice and the good happening in the world? Do I tacitly endorse things that I don’t speak out against?”

“I think you’re thinking too deeply about it.”

“Maybe, but that’s the accusation that gets leveled at the church right? That it doesn’t speak out against injustice? And who is the ‘Church’? We are. I am. If the church isn’t speaking out it’s because I’m not speaking out. And if I have a voice, pathetic as it is, via social media, am I obliged to utilize it?”

“What would Jesus tweet?”

“Funny.”

“You think Jesus would tweet? Assuming of course the technology available?”

“I don’t know about Jesus, but Wesley would definitely be all over twitter.”

“And Charles would be ghost-writing for T-Swift?”

“In all seriousness,” the young man began, watching the highway’s metal divider blur into an indistinct flash of movement,” I’m so tired. I mean just exhausted. Police killing blacks. Criminals killing police. I never knew Twitter could become a place to mourn and lament. My news feed has basically become a stream of weeping and lamentation.”

“I think you need to step away for a while.”

“I know. That’s what this trip is I guess. Or at least that’s a positive outcome of this trip. At least I won’t have internet access. But I feel like I’m contributing to the injustice if I just retreat. That’s what the early desert fathers did, not that I want to judge, but they fled the wickedness and immorality of Rome to the solitude of the desert. I just don’t see that as being a particularly biblical response.”

“Unless you’re John the Baptist.”

“Still, he had interaction. All I want is to be able to wake up tomorrow and not have anybody kill each other. How messed up is that? My expectations have become so low that I’m only saying: ‘please don’t’ kill anybody.’”

“It is disturbing.”

“Disturbing? I think that’s a bit of an understatement don’t you think.”

“I mean yes it’s horrible. But they say that violence is down, worldwide that is. Though it doesn’t feel like it, we’re living in the most peaceful time in human history. We just have the immediate access to it. The tools and the technology to be made aware of it.”

“But it’s happening here. It’s happening on our watch. We’re responsible for it.”

“I’m not saying we’re not.”

“The worst part of it all, at least for me, is that I don’t know what to do about it. I mean I’m a privileged white guy. Heck I was an only child. You can’t get more privileged than that. And for the better part of a month I’ve been just ripped apart searching for sin in my life. God holds us responsible for the sins that we are made aware of. I’ve just been trying to find my sins. It’s easy to assign blame to the “system” or to “racists” somewhere out there, but in reality, the problem is us. Each of us is prejudiced to one extent or another. We walk down the street and we make judgements. That’s normal and in some sense it’s good. The problem comes when we let that prejudice trump reason and experience. That’s when we give in to sin. And nobody wants to admit that about themselves. It just kills me, nobody is willing to say, ‘yep, you know what, I’m the problem as much as that cop or that shooter.’”

“Because it goes against everything we strive for. We remain blind to the sins in our own lives. It’s easier to see the speck in another’s eye…”

“But we’re never, never going to make any progress until we can admit that we are the problem, that our hearts are sinful and selfish. For those of us with power (whether we call it ‘power’ or not) we want to keep it. For those who don’t have power, they want it. All of it is sin, striving and sin.”

“So we need Jesus.”

“Yeah, basically.”

They crossed over the Zilwaukee Bridge over the Saginaw River. The younger man shifted in his seat to glance down at the industrial thoroughfare below. Barges hauled various components up and down the river. The economy trundling along as it had for a hundred, two hundred years in this very spot. Industry, the backbone of the American economic system, or at least it had been. Things now were in an evolution, the outcome of which was still very much undecided.

Emerging safely on the other side, their car crossed what many residents of south-eastern Michigan considered to be the start of ‘up north’. There was not any noticeable change in scenery of climate but the bridge (seemingly always under construction) served as a sentry to the top of the mitten.

“The worst part of it,” he began again, “for me is the comments. I know that social media and Twitter specifically is basically everybody’s first reaction to the events.”

“Which of course means that it’s completely rational right?”

“Yeah. I mean I know or I’ve learned that my first reactions are almost always bad or mean-spirited. It becomes so easy to lash out. And we’ve got lots of reasons to lash out, legitimate reasons. But it becomes this wounded, hateful mix of blaming this person or that person. It’s the police department’s faults. Its black criminals’ faults. It’s white privilege. It’s those Black Lives Matter protesters. It’s just so easy to blame, blame, blame without seeing the guilt in ourselves.”

“And that’s where you struggle?”

“Yeah. I’ve honestly just been wracking my brain trying to find where I’m sinning; where I’m contributing to keeping my black neighbors in poverty and oppression. I mean I just want to tear out my eyes or my brain or something.”

“At that point I feel like you need to entrust it to the Lord.”

“I know. But I want to act. But I don’t know what to do. I see the problem. I acknowledge the problem, but that answer isn’t blaming this group or that group; this party or that party. The answer has to be substantive. I mean we can and definitely should look at the ways police are trained and assigned. We can do that, but the problem ultimately lies in our own hearts. I honestly think that police are just like the rest of us, people with many different prejudices, but they carry guns, and they’ve been trained to kill in tense situations. It’s a powder keg for injustice. But it always comes back to the heart. Our sinful, prejudiced hearts that only seek ourselves and what’s best for us.”

“You know it’s funny. Actually it’s not, but you know. I’m a history guy. It’s so easy for us to judge the sins of the past. We look back at Christendom in America and say, ‘how can they possibly have tolerated slavery, in many cases condoned it?’ We ask that now. But I bet there were a lot of people just like you back then, they saw the problem, they saw how big it was and they didn’t know what to do. They didn’t know how to go about solving the problem, the ‘systemic’ problem. I’m not absolving them of guilt. I think there are right ways to act in those situations. But I think it’s easier to lay blame at the feet of our fathers and grandfathers than to consider the ways they may have thought. I mean what are we going to be known for endorsing or ignoring? Pornography? Abortion? Income disparity? A culture that intentionally or not keeps blacks in a position of weakness? The fact that you’re asking these questions is good.”

“Not good enough. Was it good enough to think: ‘gee, I bet those slaves are having a really rough time picking cotton. Oh, well, I’ll go back to colonizing the West.’? “

“I guess I don’t have the answer either.”

“You know what really kicked me in the gut? I was reading John Perkins’ memoir Let Justice Roll Down where he talks about his growing up as a sharecropping family in the South. He’s talking about religion, about Black Christianity and White Christianity. Uh, hold on.”

The man fumbled through his messenger bag and retrieved a plain bound book with the slipcover removed.

“Ok. Let’s see if I can do this without getting carsick. He’s talking about why he didn’t care about religion. He says: “And I did not see white Christianity as meaningful either. To me it was part of that whole system that helped dehumanize and destroy black people--- that system that identified me as a nigger. So how could the white Church really be concerned about me?” Here’s the part that gets me: “I had lived in the South. I had drunk at separate drinking fountains. I had ridden in the back of buses. And never in the South had I heard one white Christian speak out against the way whites treated blacks as second-class citizens.””

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow. I hear that and that’s why I question my responsibility as a social media user, as a believer. Does my silence to injustice become and endorsement?”

“I think we need to pray for the Holy Spirit to lead us.”

“Check.”

“And we need to talk with others. Honestly talk. Especially right now we’re all afraid to speak what we feel. I mean unless we’re online and then it’s fine, apparently. But we’re afraid to have a conversation with the black man down the street. I don’t mean the ‘he’s going to jump me’ kind of afraid, but we’re afraid of the uncertainty. We’re afraid that we’ll be misconstrued. We’re afraid that we’ll say the wrong thing. But you’re right, it does come down to the heart of every man, sorry, every person. And only God knows what’s in every heart. Only he can fully judge us for our racism or prejudice. But right now we’re operating with the media as the indicator of what people are like. That’s where we take our cues. It’s not the medias fault mind you, it just happens. But we hear someone somewhere say; ‘yeah I wish some more cops had gotten killed’ and we assume that that’s what the people down the street from us are thinking. Or maybe someone sees a white girl tweet about some trivial inconvenience and they assume that ‘you know what, those white people are content just living the high life while others have it like me’. They don’t know your heart. They don’t know that you’ve been earnestly questioning yourself. They don’t know that you can admit that your heart is tainted. We need to talk about it. We do have a moral mandate for that, I think, to answer your first question. I just don’t think it really should be done online. There’s too much anonymity there. There’s not enough space for vulnerability. You can’t communicate your heart in 140 characters and don’t talk to me about emojis, I’m tired of you lecturing me on emojis. You just can’t open up and actually have someone trust you through the medium. We’re bound by the medium to some extent and our discourse is suffering because of it. The only answer is actually getting out there and talking and having hard conversations. Sorry for the rant.”

“No it was good.”

“No, I was getting heated. You see how I’m gripping the wheel? Good thing we’re past the bridge. All this righteous anger would have taken us to the bottom of the Saginaw River.”

“It makes me understand the place of lamentation. I mean I haven’t dealt with too much pain and suffering in my life, thank God. But there are moments when there’s just no words, no logical pattern of thought. It’s just this deep ache that says that things are not the way they’re supposed to me. It makes you question God. Not like doubting per se. I dunno, I’ve always been able to hold questions in one hand and faith in the other. My questions don’t negate the fact that I have faith. I just have faith. I feel like that’s a gift that He has given me- the ability to trust Him. At the same time though, weeks like this; weeks that are just so bent; so wrong, it brings up so many questions.”

“It makes it a struggle to walk in the light of the gospel in a fallen world.”

“You don’t have to look very far to see that this world is broken. It’s hard to deny that these days.”

“Back in the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s, that was the hey-day of Science Fiction and there was all this talk of utopias. Like Star Trek. The thought was, if you could just remove the problems: food, money, violence, then humanity would become this perfect, idealized world. Those ideas about utopias seem really hollow now; when we see that hatred and violence are birthed out of our own hearts. We don’t need problems, we make our own. Still, when we look at the implications of the gospel we can see the hope it offers. Sure, it’s easy to see the depravity and the selfishness of people but it’s also so much more remarkable to see the light amid the darkness and right now there is certainly a lot of darkness but we have to look for the light.”

“Easier said than done.”

“True.”

“I truly believe, the elder began again; the gospel is our only hope of ridding ourselves of the selfishness that causes all of this. That should be our focus in all of this. Sorry. Again.”

“No. No. You should be a pastor.”

“Well…”

They pulled over at a rest area just after West Branch. The older man went to the bathroom while the younger, quite accustomed to long car rides, stood to stretch his legs. The sun had risen now and the drowsy morning had evaporated in the warmth. To his right at the back of the rest area was a ridge of cottonwoods swaying slightly in the breeze beyond that a field of thigh-high corn stretched out for an unfathomable distance. He turned from the pastoral landscape to the fanatical sounds of the road resonating with the passing of each car, no more than abstractions to the bystander at 75 miles an hour. In each, a man or woman sat: a being with hopes and dreams, faith and failings. He felt the inexpressible desire to swallow them all up; all the hurt and the pain; to somehow envelop it all in an infinite embrace. He felt his heart ache. He blinked and forced himself to look harder; to look for the light.

Cold Front (Short (really short) story)

“Doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon.”

The rain drew concentric patterns on the surface of the creek which wound its way laboriously through the brush. Beads of water catching the last fleeting embers of daylight shone on the pair of rods that leaned against a knotted oak.

“No it does not.”

Individual drops beat upon the weather-worn tarp under which the two men rested. The young man fought back a shiver. He stood with his hands buried inside the pockets of the slick rain jacket. His waders, now nearly dry, save the right boot where his foot soaked mournfully in the damp sock, were still clasped over his shoulders. The older man sat in a metal folding chair, one leg placed deliberately over the other despite the weight of the heavy boot. He puffed slowly on a dun-colored cigar, the smoke of which drifted lazily in the breezeless twilight.

The young man watched furtively the slow eddies swirling above the stony creek bed.

“The fishing used to be a lot better, the older man began. The last ten or fifteen years they come in here and cut back the brush. He pointed toward the opposing bank where a swift riffle disturbed the pristine water. It made the fishing a hell of a lot easier; easier to cast, but it cut out a lot of the good cover. Used to be you’d be able to get a 10 or a 12 inch brookie out. Now you’re lucky if you get a 5. There’s still lots of fish--- all small though, all small. Still a good run though. Good dark water before that bend there.”

He tapped off the cigar. The ashes fell on the outstretched fronds of bracken like the remains of distant fires.

The young man opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again.

The old man’s eyes scanned the far bank where a few spinners hung precipitously over the water’s surface unable to resist the tantalizing allure, unable to resist pure biological imperative of the rippling water.

“It’s be a good night for a ballgame. Too bad they played early.”

There was a pause, the elder uncrossed and recrossed his legs and continued.

“Sale was pitching. The Tige’s had just tied it up when you went out. Victor hit a single. He’s a hell of a pitcher, Sale. They can’t count on a lot today.”

“No they can’t.”

The dull gurgle of the water over time-worn, algae-covered stones enveloped all.

“What’d you say you got? Six? Seven?”

“Six. I lost a few---probably the biggest one, just flipped off as I was bringing it in. About four feet away.”

“Need to set the hook sooner,” the older man stated as if reading the weather.

“K.”

“Where’d you hook him?”

“Just around the bend from camp, above that downed log. I was almost back when it started raining. I just came up to grab a raincoat.”

“Doesn’t look good. He sucked greedily at the cigar. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were a warm rain, but cold, cold’ll chill you real quick. Doesn’t need to be too cold to get hypothermia.”

The young man slid silently to the open tailgate of the pickup flicking off small puddles that had formed there with his palm. Hoisting himself up he sat and unclasped the elastic suspenders of the waiters and shimmied himself out, letting the discolored and patched equipment fall to the ground.

A woodpecker ceremoniously alighted on a nearby tree with a jarring call not unlike a catbird and began drumming away against the hollow trunk.

Without fear or shame the young man removed his shorts and pulled on the pair of dirtied jeans which lay in a heap in the truck’s bed.

He returned barefoot to the covered awing under which the old man sat smoking, staring absently out across the water. He relished the way the carpet of pine needles felt beneath his pruned toes, like a newborn awakened to the world.

He sidled beside, beside, not in front of, the old man. The elder never broke his gaze--- a transfixed stare searching, searching. Joining him, the young man too watched anxiously.

“Sometimes I come up in early May, the elder said. It’ll be nice during the day. You go to bed, 9, 10. You wake up and it drops down to 40 at night. You don’t want to get out of your sleeping bag in the morning but you look out and there’s this fine mist out over the water. This is good too though. They’re saying it will clear up tomorrow. Only scattered showers. We’ll get one last go. The fishing will be crap though. Trout don’t like the cold fronts. It’s the pressure I guess. They hunker down. You might pull em with a streamer if you run it right up against the bank where it’s undercut. Yeah we’ll l get one last go.”

The young man proceeded twenty paces and approached the edge of the creek through sodden grasses and beleaguered stems. He stood and looked out across the water. Still the rain fell. Still the creek ran. He stared unmoving, unconcerned with the old man’s eyes upon his back.

2 Corinthians 12:14-15

Here for this third time I am ready to come to you, and I will not be a burden to you; for children are not responsible to save up for their parents, but parents for their children. I will most gladly spend and be expended for your souls.

2^nd Corinthians 12:14-15

As Paul begins to wrap up his letter to the Corinthian Christians he restates his intentions to visit the young church. Though he had for some time intended on meeting with the church plant, he had been prevented from doing so. Now he reminds them of his goal of visiting. He maintains that he is not coming to be a burden to them (as his opponents had been accusing) but rather to be a blessing for them. He presents the image of a parent and a child. A child is not responsible to taking care of their parent but rather parents are tasked with taking care of and raising their children. In this expression, Paul shows us an example of spiritual authority that stands in stark contrast to some authoritarian regime or distant governor.

This image of spiritual authority as being a sacrificial responsibility is one that Paul speaks to many times over the course of his letters to various churches. To the Philippians he writes, “But even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with you all.”

For those who find themselves in positions of spiritual authority over others, this attitude of concern and self-sacrifice is essential. We cannot dictate authority without a concern for those we lead. We have all seen and many of us have experienced the dangers of such a divorced notion of leadership. Parents who don’t live what they preach. Pastors who are more concerned with the Word in abstract than in practice. Elected officials concerned with only perpetuation of their own political clout. These things should not be. It is the model of Christ presented again in Paul’s letter to the Philippians that should be our guide in leading others: “Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant,”

This is the teaching that informs Paul’s concern for the Corinthian Christians. He says that he will most gladly be expended for their souls, for their betterment. His concern for them was so great that he would gladly give his life, his ministry, and even his very soul that their faith might increase and they draw nearer to the Lord.

Even those of us who are not in delineated ‘positions’ of spiritual authority over others can take from this a model for how to care for others. Our love for others should lead us to take a level of responsibility (even if informal) for the lives and spiritual growth of others. “I searched for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand in the gap before Me for the land, so that I would not destroy it; but I found no one.” Here in His words to Ezekiel, the Lord searched for someone who would stand and put the souls of others upon their shoulders.  Who would ‘stand in the gap?’ Who is there that we can ‘stand in the gap’ for?

Before we look at what it looks like to take this kind of responsibility for others, we should be clear that this is in no way imposing some kind of leadership model on others. We cannot force any kind of top-down discipleship model without the consent of those being discipled. Even in organizational systems that create such models for discipleship (pastor-congregation) the arrangement is still somewhat artificial unless it is approved by both parties and lived out in trust. What we are looking at here is more an informal approach to caring for others. It is possible to ‘be expended’ for others without even them knowing. The words uttered in the solitude of prayer, though unknown to the one being prayed for, are no less real to the Lord. They carry as much weight as a sermon preached.

With that said, what does it look like to have our lives spent for others?

Being Expended for Someone Means Being Concerned

First and foremost, if we are to pour our lives out for another we must be concerned about their soul. This might sound obvious but it goes against the very core of our human sinfulness. We are selfish creatures. Our focus naturally reverts back to itself if not disciplined. Even when we engage with others whether it is in service or in conversation we often do it as a means to an end. We view others in the context of what they can do for us. We might never state it so crudely but it is same none the less. How often in conversation are we truly thinking beyond the words; the transfer of information and looking down the heart and asking: ‘what concerns does this person have?’

This tendency of ours is the reason Paul entreats his readers to “Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.” To be concerned with others is to buck the trends of our life. It means going beyond surface level communication and probing deeper into the heart.

Being Expended for Someone Means Being Observant

Naturally flowing out of a concern for others is that if we intend to be expended for someone we must be observant. Again, we naturally operate in the sphere of our own experience. On one hand, it is entirely natural. Only we and the Lord know the contents of our mind. Only two beings in all of existence can understand what we experience. We cannot completely know the entire scope of someone else’s. Like a river flowing downhill, it is the easiest course of action to focus upon what is a) able to known fully and b) is most convenient. It requires effort to learn about others. We have to stop thinking about ourselves. We have to ask questions. Sometimes we, God forbid, have to be quiet and listen. We have to put ourselves aside; our own thoughts, and fill our world with the concerns, fears, ambitions, and thoughts of others. We have to set ourselves aside for the moment to pay attention the life of another.

Paul did this with the Corinthians. He used the communication medium of his time to write them letters to communicate, yes, but also to be involved in the lives of these newly minted congregants. Beyond that he sent his close colleague Titus to them to minister and to be actively involved in their lives (v18).

Played out in real life, this level of observation means being present in conversation. It means listening more and speaking less.  The author of Proverbs writes: “The purpose in a man’s heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out.” If we are truly concerned with the souls of others we will put ourselves aside long enough to humbly observe.

Being Expended for Someone Means Being in Prayer

We must understand that no matter our level of concern or how much we understand another person we lack the capacity to affect real change in their life. Even our greatest efforts are a mere drop in the bucket of the ocean of their lives. Only the Lord can a) know the full scope of their life b) know His plan for their life and c) have the power to affect lasting change. With that understood, our concern over the lives of others should drive us to our knees in prayer. Interestingly, this step of being poured out for others is the only one that can be done without any involvement at all with the other party. Paul again models this for us in his letter to the Thessalonians, “To this end we pray for you always, that our God would count you worthy of your calling, and fulfill every desire for goodness and the work of faith with power,”

This is where the rubber meets the road in being expended for someone. We can have the best intentions but in our own power we are incapable of affecting real change. Only through prayer are we able to bring about real and lasting change to another’s life. There is no element of prayer in which we can bring glory to ourselves. It is between us and the Lord that this transaction takes place. In other areas of caring for others it might be possible to fake, to an extent, good intentions but in the closet of prayer there is no pretension. Here alone, all is laid bare before the face of God. Here is the altar upon which we pour our prayer; our tears out to the Lord on behalf of others. Here is where the greatest amount of our energy should be focused. “Pray without ceasing” Paul exhorts. If we truly want to have an impact in the lives of others, this is where it begins. We confess our weakness, our complete inability, and lay our friends before the Most Holy, All-Powerful God.

Being Expended for Someone Means Being Willing to Sacrifice

The true test of our resolve to ‘stand in the gap’ for another is whether we are willing to sacrifice our comfort, financial assets, or desires for the benefit of someone else. This is the truth that underpins all else. Are we willing to sacrifice our self-focused existence to be concerned for and observe the life of another? Are we willing to pour ourselves out in prayer for the blessing of another? We must be willing and actively listening for the voice of the Holy Spirit to lead us to steps of action in the lives of others. We must be willing to follow through with action (never move beyond) the prayers we prayed before God. We must be willing to sacrifice something of ourselves, whatever that may look like for the benefit of others. This is where distant concern dies. We are to be involved, in some regard, with the life of another. This looks vastly different in different situations. In some, the level of interaction and sacrifice might be infinitesimally small.

Consider Jesus’ command to pray for those who persecute you. The sacrifice involved here is the sacrifice of pride; the sacrifice of bitterness and anger. It might mean having a more gentle spirit with our oppressors. Even here there is a sacrifice for another’s benefit.

In each situation there will be a level at which we must be willing to give up a piece of ourselves for the blessing of others. It may be time. It may be attention. It certainly will be prayer. It may be financial. Whatever the sacrifice, know this: it will cost us something. It will cost us something to put aside our needs to pay attention to the needs of others. It will hurt to admit our powerlessness to heal their hurts. It will cost us something to take upon ourselves the concerns of others. As I am constantly remind by the Lord: what if I am the only one concerned with that person? What if (and this is a very real possibility) I am the only human being on earth specifically praying for that person? Am I willing to sacrifice myself for them; to give of myself, even if in an invisible way, that they might know the Lord or that their wounds might be healed?

This is where we leave the pretense of religion aside and follow the example of our Lord who did this very thing for us.

I suggest that we start with five people. They may be people you already have some ‘institutionalized’ responsibility for (small groups, husband, wife, children, congregation) or they may not be. Start with five people who you are willing to be spent for. Concern yourself with them. Observe them. Pray for them. Be willing to sacrifice yourself for them as the Spirit leads. Remember that we love others because Christ first loved us and gave Himself sacrificially for us. That is why we serve. That is why we love. That is why we sacrifice. There is no glory to be gained from false sacrifice. The only glory given is to the Lord when He works his blessings in the lives of others.

2 Corinthians 12:10

That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

2 Corinthians 12:10

Paul’s final conclusion when considering his weaknesses is that since the Lord’s power is most fully demonstrated in light of man’s weakness, he is then able not only to endure persecutions, hardships, and difficulties, he is able to delight in them. To further illustrate the depths of trials Paul is describing we need only look back to chapter 11 where he outlines the array of experiences he has encountered in service to the Lord. These often horrifying trials give us a fuller grasp of the strength of Paul’s confident assertion in v10. We can see that Paul’s words were not mere conjecture or empty philosophy but rather a bold conclusion born of faith in light of vast amounts of personal experience.

Those of us who call ourselves followers of Jesus can look to this verse to comfort and inspire us in our service to the Lord. Too often, though, our own experiences speak to the contrary. When we encounter hardships, difficulties, and God forbid, persecutions, we turn quickly not to delight but to depression, bitterness, or complaining. Too often our conception of what it means to be a follower of Jesus is faulty. Perhaps we have come to believe that if we follow Jesus we will not encounter troubles at all. This is, of course, negated by Scripture where Jesus tells his followers that “in this world you will have trouble” and “if the world hates you, remember that it hated me first.” We were never promised an easy or comfortable life if we chose to follow Christ. On the contrary, we were promised hardship. Perhaps, if we are consistently experiencing a comfortable existence free from the troubles Jesus assured us were coming, we are not actually living lives for Jesus. Perhaps we are missing (or ignoring) the voice of the Holy Spirit calling us to purity and the mission of serving Christ. The life of following Jesus is one of mission. It is not simply a conventional life with little bits of Jesus sprinkled in. The life of a Christian is radically different from mere existence. The aim is glorifying the Lord and witnessing to the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ rather than a continual (and unattainable) quest for comfort and safety. It is a life focused upon the twin goals of loving the Lord and loving our neighbors. All else, as comforting, appealing, or entertaining as it may be, is superfluous in comparison to the call the Lord has put to every believer. Each of our specific circumstances, callings, and gifts are different, of course. We may not be called to emulate the lifestyle or practices of a missionary preacher such as Paul but the attitude of obedience and focus on our calling should be the driving force in our life.

The second assertion confirmed by this verse concerns our attitudes when we do encounter trials. As we have seen, it is of the utmost importance that we live fully aware of our identity as followers of Jesus and that the purpose of our life should be viewed within that context. As we do so, to greater and lesser degrees, we will experience insults, hardships, persecutions, and difficulties. First, note that in this verse (as in other portions of Scripture) Paul assumes that he will encounter these things. They are not a surprise. They are not anomalies in the Lord’s will. They are an expectation. We too should expect to encounter similar trials if we concern ourselves with the cause of Christ. Secondly, when we encounter these trials, our attitude should not be one of complaining, grumbling, bitterness, or indignation. Too often our first response to opposition is to complain about it. I don’t want to minimize pain or invalidate struggles (the psalms are evidence that our emotions and complaints are a normative part of an authentic spiritual life) but often our complaints against uncomfortable circumstances are really just us not trusting that: a) God is good or b) God is in control. We all are in the process of releasing these objections to the Lord. There are a thousand gradations of situations in which we trust or struggle to trust the Lord. One reaction might be ten seconds of griping when something doesn’t go our way. Another might be a life philosophy born out of an unspoken disappointment or a belief that the Lord won’t be there when we need Him. In each of these situations we must wrestle with our doubts; with our objections until we can say, “not my will, but yours.” Though we struggle, our ultimate aim is one of complete surrender.

The reason we can not only persevere through, but even delight in our trials is that the Lord’s power is made perfect in our weaknesses. The fragility of our own physical bodies and the persistent proclivity to sin (“prone to wander, Lord I feel it) only serves as the backdrop for the Lord’s power. The Lord can work through us as we struggle to live lives free of sin. The Lord can work through us as our bodies are affected physically and mentally. The Lord can work through us as we wrestle with imperfect theology. Moreover, the fact that, through Christ, the Lord would even choose to atone for the sins of such a sinful, self-centered, and imperfect people such as us shows how loving and faithful He is. Our imperfections demonstrate the perfection of God. Our fragility demonstrates His power. Our wavering hearts demonstrate His faithfulness.