A Neat & Tidy Problem
My city is that quintessential Midwest town that gives you that “neat and tidy” type of feeling when you arrive. People bake you pies and deliver homemade rhubarb jams when you’re new in town. If you stop by to thank them, there's a good chance that they’ll be sitting on their front porch and respond with a resounding, “You betcha”.
But like every place on earth, including where you live, there is also incredible hurt—an underbelly to every shiny exterior. So how do we see what our city really looks like?
First, I want to encourage you that if you are a believer in Jesus Christ, it is life’s duty to care about the hungry, naked, sick, strangers and imprisoned fellow believers around you. Jesus himself gives us a very clear picture of what the final judgement will look like in Matthew 25:31-46. Please take the time to go back and read those verses very carefully. It is here that we see Jesus in a dual role of a shepherd-king on his glorious throne overlooking a gathering of nations. He begins to separate the sheep from the goats. The difference? The sheep act upon their beliefs whereas the goats do not.
If you are like me and you attend a neat and tidy church, filled with neat and tidy people, it can be really difficult to see hungry, poor-clothed, or homeless folks.
So, if our church buildings in America don’t usually contain these types of people, are we off the hook? Popular opinion might wonder, “God must know that it’s not my calling to help the poor. Therefore, he has not put them on my path.” I would like to take this opportunity to serve a hearty rebuke to that way of thinking. Perhaps the poor are not on our path because we are not on God’s path. Maybe we don’t see them because we are walking a goat’s path. There’s no rug under which our ignorance can be swept here. In the depths of our hearts, Jesus’ words are not difficult to understand. Jesus does not mince his words, nor is He flexible to our bargains.
“Perhaps the poor are not on our path because we are not on God’s path.”
My own life is an excellent example of that bargain. I am highly driven and goal-motivated. For 16 years of my life, that energy was spent building a kingdom for me. At the age of 24, I had built my own 5-bedroom home with 2 large decks and a 3-car garage. Before I turned 30, I was a proud owner of a vacation condo located at one of the top Rocky Mountain ski destinations. There was nothing inherently wrong with either of these hard-earned homes; it was the motivation of my heart that made them damning. The continuous hustle to maintain and expand my kingdom acted like a dark mask that made it nearly impossible for me to see the lowly. This is probably what the Lord meant when, through the prophet Isaiah, he said, “What sorrow for you who buy up house after house and field after field, until everyone is evicted and you live alone in the land.” But God, He caused me to see through this dark obstruction. His Spirit began to soften my heart toward a people I hadn’t much considered. Three years ago, I turned 37. By that time, both of these homes were out of my life and the veneer was slowly wearing off. My family and I then relocated to an area of town where it’s not as hard to see and form friendships with those in need.
While our American culture of individualism and affluence often ignores the hungry, naked, sick, imprisoned, and stranger, the Christian is challenged to welcome them. What I love about these verses is that God will not allow us to be neat, tidy or comfortable. For example, the call to welcome the stranger, leaves out the possibility of interaction solely on the basis of familiarity. It is someone unfamiliar; it is often used in the Bible alongside the word alien or foreigner. Jesus is looking for us to welcome someone who is completely unlike us or our group. He knows that we all tend to surround ourselves with people who look, act and talk like us.
“The call to welcome the stranger leaves out the possibility of interaction solely on the basis of familiarity.”
How will you welcome a stranger this week? I want to share a few ideas that I have. As a family man, I recommend including your entire family as participants. Could you start a second Sunday potluck at your church where your entire intention is meeting and inviting people you’ve never met? What if you scheduled 3 hours this week to wave down each and every person that walks by your house and introduce your family (front porch helps here)? How about signing your kids up in the sports league that competes in the rough part of town instead of the high-end traveling team? Maybe spend a Saturday night at the Mission singing off-tune and shaking hands with the unlovable? Could you imagine an afternoon in your town’s lowliest Mcdonald’s handing out coupons you purchased for ice cream sundaes?
None of these ideas sound extravagant, but they are all a first step to welcoming a stranger. We each have to make an intentional step to notice the stranger in our city before we can become friends with them. I promise you that your city is a mess like mine. From the Bible Belt to the pristine reaches of Minnesota Nice, the outsider is always within. My prayer for my family and for yours is a direct invitation from the King Himself, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” May you be emboldened to RSVP to this invitation with a confident, Mid-Western,”You betcha.”