A blog-reader (and near friend) wrote me an email the other day containing these words:
l love the peace-speaking, life-giving nature of your blogs. You seem seized by your faith that the Lord can work out the differences in His Body—or at least help us live in peace despite them.
And then I read yet another diatribe about yet another divisive issue in the Church. And a biting tweet from someone who ministers effectively from an office about someone who ministers effectively from a garden. And then I heard someone snort behind me when a certain demographic was discussed.
Seized by my faith. Yes. But seized by my faith in a sovereign God. Yes.
Perhaps I’m simplistic, but I know how my brain works and the miles it runs every day, the questions it asks and the solutions it tries to find. I know how quickly I can survey the ground in front of me and how fast I can estimate the work to be done and the best way to do the work. So I don’t think it’s simplistic thinking that drives me to breathe deep at the factions, lift my eyes up and say, “But God.”
We’re all so concerned with defending truth, or at least our best white-knuckled version of the truth, that sometimes we forget that God guards His truth and He will not be mocked.
He will not be mocked (Gal. 6:7).
Westboro Baptist Church may seem to make a mockery of Him, but then Fred Phelps grand-daughter comes out and extols His name.
Chic-Fila may have walked into a hornet’s nest, but then president Dan Cathy meets with GLBT spokesperson and puts flesh on the Gospel.
Mark Driscoll may tick a lot of people off, but Mars Hill Seattle is filled with hundreds of pastors who are on the ground, doing the work of the gospel and people are being saved.
But that’s not all:
I have pounded my fists in the air and cursed God’s name, and He still wants me.
He wants me?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
God will not be mocked and He will use arms, legs, hands, and feet shod with truth to take the Gospel to doubters and dwellers, skeptics and seekers, askers and atheists, pharisees and philosophers. He uses you and me—and all of us fools.
So the next time we’re tempted to write a blog post denouncing yet another brother or sister in Christ, or type 140 characters about how we know so much more about another person’s life or ministry calling, let’s take a second and a second look at the miry pit from which we came.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He wants you. And He might have used a fool or two along the way to get to you.
Because, don’t worry, He knows His sheep and they know Him. And His name is safe.