1 Corinthians 4: 8-13 “For we are fools for Christ”.
It was time to take down the Christmas decorations. By now my neighbors were probably beginning to wonder if I would just leave them up and fit into some peculiar stereotype of southern culture. Really, I just had not had time. Today was the day. It was still pretty cold from that polar vortex blast that had come in and I was bundled up. Now that my deck has a protective finish on it, I have noticed how nicely the leaves and pine straw sweeps off making cleanup noticeably easier. Ever notice how there can be a downside to what at first seems like a positive trait?
I had already made a few trips up and down the ladder. With it on my deck, it significantly shortens the distance to my rooftop making it an 8-9’ distance from roof edge to the deck floor. Gives you a false sense of security I guess. I had made the last trip. All the pine straw had been swept away, the lights and hangers were removed, and I even took the time to check one of my vent pipes and add some protective flashing around it. I was done. One of my climbs up, as I was making the last step onto the roof, my ladder kind of made a funny shift, and I took note to be extra careful…whatever that means. But, it was good and I was coming down for the final time. I carefully stepped onto the rung and I am fairly sure both feet were on…it does get a little fuzzy from here. What I do know is that my ladder began to slide out from under me and in what seemed like a short second, we all came crashing down. In one moment, I was descending, in another sliding with the grating and clanging of aluminum screeching out, and then somehow, I was magically lying on my deck. I landed on my right side. My appreciation and fascination with cats intensely magnified because landing on my feet was not in the cards that day. My head racked with pain. There were three points of injury. Behind my left knee and upper calf where I must have gotten tangled in with the ladder and a world record bruise was forming. My right elbow, although not bleeding or broken was too tender to touch. But I was trying to figure out where and how I hit my head. After pressing around my neck, head, and jaw for tender spots, I discovered that the extreme tip of my right jaw bone close to my ear, must have been the main point of contact. Behind my right ear throbbed and my neck ached. You get the picture. I pulled myself up, checked for bleeding, anything broken, and rejoiced at how lucky I was. Thank you, Lord!!!! As I gingerly turned my head, I winced out loud, “that’s gonna hurt for a while”.
We all fall, right? The work we find ourselves in can sometimes be dangerous and risky. Simple routines lessen our thoughts about safety. We get comfortable until something shakes us out of that comfort zone and many times…it hurts. A relationship turns sour, a routine gets changed, a new system emerges-these can create moments of discomfort and pain. But I have also discovered that once we have healed and moved beyond the pain, a lesson, some imprint remains. In many cases, it was the pain juxtaposed to the good that intensifies the good. Pain and crisis are typically the teaching moments in our journey. They leave lasting impressions magnifying what is good or being the very catalyst for fruitfulness and success.
Last week, the ARM team after months of praying and discerning, finalized our summer theme for our youth mission camps. “Fools for Christ”. And after falling off a ladder, even after checking it out and being particularly careful, this resonates more. Paul pens these words in his letter to the Corinthians. When read in context, it is not glamorous, romantic, or even really anything to aspire to as a believer. Yet, there is something about living with a passion to do whatever it takes to help people find and grow in faith in Christ. Paul says that being a follower of Jesus is not about being strong, smart, successful, comfortable, an achiever or anything else that we blindly pursue in our culture. For the early apostles, it was radically opposite. After writing we are “fools for Christ” he describes the apostles going hungry, being beaten, working in old, dirty clothes, being brutally treated, being homeless; working hard with their hands. When cursed, they bless; when persecuted, they endure; when slandered, answering kindly. They have become scum and garbage of the earth. Being willing to fall is painful, messy, and takes time to recover.
We are going to fall, be knocked out of our comfort zones, be shaken at our core. My question is for what reasons. Do I love Jesus enough, do I want others to know Jesus enough, to pen a list like Paul? Will I look back in my history and journey and have dedicated my life to Jesus’ kingdom work to have that in my biography? In the West, our list may not look like that. It does for the Chinese Underground Church, for the Latin American Church, and anywhere else the Gospel is suppressed. How can I “be a fool for Christ” in comfortable suburbia? And oh by the way, most people in the West don’t know the Gospel story anymore. We are super nice, gentle, and relatively hospitable people. But people are on a road that is leading to complete and utter darkness, pain, and isolation- a life without Christ now and eternally.
I apologize for the randomness. I fell off a ladder and trying to think about being a fool for Christ. My ladder experience has little to do with my life as a follower. I climbed it to take down Christmas decorations and do a little maintenance. Just the simple risks in everyday life. I could have easily had similar results standing on a chair to change a light bulb. But, somehow the pain that has lingered for several days now has made me think about having pain for a purpose not just accidental. Pain because I have engaged with people different from me, who are searching for Christ and need someone to show them the way. Pain because I sit with someone in their own pain and bear their burden with them. Pain because I take off from work in my routine setting to go serve; to live in a different culture that is not affluent like mine, to get dirty, to get sore, and to see life a different way and maybe to cry with a person because I get to go back home to comfort while that person remains. Being a fool for Christ means there is meaning, purpose, and intentionality in my pain and discomfort for the sake of sharing and revealing the love of God through Christ in others. Now, don’t go fall off any ladders and hurt yourself, but what might it look like for you to be called “a fool for Christ”? I would love to hear!
Grace and peace,
lisa
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