Beautiful Brokenness

Here's a picture of our church in Costa Rica:

See the girl in front with the pink sneakers and pink butterfly on her shirt?  Yeah?  Okay.  Now look right behind her to the girl  in the purple.  See her?  Good.  Just above her right shoulder (that would be your left), hidden in the shadows, is Josue (pronounced "Ho-sway").

He doesn't live with his parents anymore.  The government took him away from them.

Notice his expression; do you see his haunted, hurt eyes?  Every time I saw Josue, I was instantly reminded that he knew pain intimately.  I could not make him smile.  He would respectfully give me his attention, but nothing I said or did elicited any kind of response.

I wish I had a better picture of his eyes.  There are millions of kids like him, you know.  He's fortunate; he's got the government looking out for him, and this church family has essentially adopted him.

But there are quite literally millions of broken, beautiful children for whom there is no hope,

who are abused at home,

who dig in mounds of garbage for their food,

who are forced into sex slavery,

who die in agony, alone.

And what do we, who call ourselves followers of Christ, do?  Nothing.  We do nothing.  Is it that we doubt our ability to help?  That we think we'd be of no use?  That we believe that God's will will be, and that nothing which is not God's will will be?

Perhaps.

But I can no longer live thinking that way.  I saw in Costa Rica a church of young people making a difference in this boy's life.  Could any of them know Josue's pain?  No.  Could any of them stop it?  No.  Could any of them in the smallest degree relate to his poverty and hurt?  I am positive that the answer is No; they were all rich kids.  And yet while I was there, Josue changed.

The last day I saw him, I saw him smile.

He smiled because the church family that adopted him--though they themselves were completely inadequate--introduced him to Someone Who does understand, Who is healing the pain, and Who truly feels the extent of the evil in his life.

Josue met Jesus.  Josue fell in love with Jesus.  And the day he got baptized is the day I saw Josue smile.

(Repeatedly.)

Let's stop pretending we can't do anything about the Josue's of the world.  Shut the devil up when he whispers lies in your ear.  Or rather, agree with him.  Say, "You're right; I can do nothing; I am nothing.  That's kind of the whole point of grace.  And the fact that I can do nothing (and know it) is exactly why I can do something.  I can share the Thing that made my broken soul into something beautiful."  Because that really is the whole point here: We can do nothing.  God can.

So let God work through you.

1 Tim. 2:4 says that God would have all men to be saved.  'Would' is a tense of 'will.'  It is God's will that all men be saved.  (See also 2 Pet. 3:9.)

Question: Will all men be saved?

Another question: But since it is God's will, and since He is omnipotent, would His will not always come about?

The answer to these questions is obviously no. This appears at first to be an unfortunate conundrum, and we are quite properly led to ask why.  It's a question that gets at the roots of Who God is.  As such, it's probably impossible to answer it perfectly, as His ways are far above ours.  But I think we can get pretty close.  Why?

Perhaps it is because God's strength transcends mere might.

Which man do we count stronger: the one who pulverizes anyone who insults him, or the one who could pulverize whomever he chose, but instead turns the other cheek?

God's strength is of the second kind.  He has unlimited physical might, but He also has the strength to limit Himself.  And unimaginably, He does limit Himself; look at the cross!

You see, though God would choose all men to be saved if He were doing the choosing, He is not doing the choosing.  It's completely inconceivable!  Why would He not choose?  Well, His nature is love (see 1 John).  He desires our love; not because He needs it (for He needs nothing), but because He is love.  Love is the only noun ever equated with God.  God = Love.  And since He is love, He desires to be in relationships of perfect love, in which each party gives his or her all to the other.  And to get this love, He gives us the freedom to not love.

If I held a gun to your head and told you to stand, that you could do.  If I told you to sing, that you could do.  But if I held a gun to your head and told you to love me, you could not.  You could appear to love me.  You could do all the things a person who loved me would do.  But you could not love me.

God knows this.

And so He gave us a choice, though He knew the choice would end in unimaginable torment for Himself, and even though many of us would still choose, on the other side of that torment, to reject Him.

God limits Himself in His dealings with us in order to preserve our ability to love Him.

You see, when the Bible says things like, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.  How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they are sent (Romans 10:13-15)," it is not an idle idea.  It is truth; it is reality.  God is limiting Himself.

We have been sent; it was the last command Jesus gave to His disciples (Matt. 28:19).  And we have been promised that once this command is carried to its completion, the end will come (Matt. 24:14).

We do not hold this charge because there is anything we ourselves can do.  We can do nothing.  No; we are given this charge because we can do nothing, nothing but allow Him to do things in us.

In Eze. 3:18 God warns, "When I say unto the wicked, 'Thou shalt surely die,' and thou givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his wicked ways, the same wicked man shall die in his iniquity.  But his blood will I require at thine hands."  This is not an idle threat.  Nor is it an unreasonable demand to do something which it is not our place to do.  In light of these verses, to say that because of God's omnipotence we have no place in the salvation of our fellow men is to say that He is an unjust tyrant Who punishes His servants for doing what He has willed them to do or not do.  God expects us to contribute to humanity's salvation.

Though God could cause the rocks to cry out if He so chose (and so great is His love for souls I've heard stories of Him doing things very much like that when we His followers are silent), He intends to use us.  

Our God is strong enough to restrain His strength in favor of His love for us.  And part of that restraint is using us (rather than miraculous, undeniable signs) to carry the good news to the world.  Notice I said "use"; this is not about us.  As the song says,

I am not brave;
I'll never be.
The only thing
my heart can offer
is a vacancy.
I'm just a girl,
nothing more.
But I am willing;
I am yours.
Be born in me.

This is our role; this is our place.  Revelation 3:8 says, "See?  I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut; I know that you have little strength."  So let's walk through the door already!  Verse 20 says, "Hey!  I'm standing at your door knocking; let me in!"  

Let's off with the apathy and do what's been marked out for us.  Let's allow our only Strength in to do what's been ordained for us to do.