All the foolish and weak things

This is a bit of a follow up for a blog I wrote back in June, called “A little down.” At that time, I was feeling so desperate to see God’s work in the people and ministries around me. I still feel that same desperation, but perhaps not with the same doubt that He will come through. However, through this past six months of praying for the Spirit to intervene, waiting with baited breath to see it come, and then rejoicing in the amazing things He does accomplish, God has begun to teach me something of how He works with all the foolish and weak things to advance His Kingdom.

I’m going to be a bit vulnerable here. I think I told one of my girlfriends this one time, and she made fun of me, which wasn’t a major blow to my ego, but did make me realize that I’m a bit weird.

I’ve always wanted to be a spy. I still think about it when I’m driving and I’ve got good music playing. I think about how cool it would be to know five languages, be trained in martial arts, fly around the world on secret missions, and be constantly looking behind my back, ready for the next chase. I imagine that my car is a decked out spy car that has a hidden computer and the ability to transform into some type of racing car and then into a plane. Yeah, yeah, it is childish, but perhaps not as much as my desire to be a superhero. I can’t believe I’m writing this, but ever since the X-men cartoons I watched as a kid, I’ve wanted to have telekinetic powers like Professor X. I’m just sure that if I was either a spy or a superhero, I would kick some butt, take some names, and, of course, save the world.

Usually, after a few minutes of fanciful thinking, my attention comes back to reality. I’m barely fluent in English and at the peak of my French-speaking abilities, my best African friend asked me to pray in English, because I “hurt the (French) language.” Besides my brother, I’ve never had an honest fight with anybody, and to be frank, my body build lends itself to running away more than fighting. I drive a dirty, 1998 Ford Taurus, with a slipping transmission that would have trouble getting airborne over a ramp, let alone turning into a plane. And since I still call Post-It Notes my brain, I doubt I’ll be developing telekinetic powers anytime soon.

Right before reality shatters my day dreams, I usually start coming around and trying to redeem them. I imagine using my powers for the Kingdom. This, for some reason, is always an uncomfortable marriage of ideas and usually leads to my rousing from the day dream. Somehow, kicking butt, taking names, and looking extremely cool while I do so, doesn’t seem to mesh with my idea of the Kingdom. But, to be frank, when it comes to power-issues in the Kingdom, I’m no more comfortable with God’s version either.

“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him” (1 Cor. 1:27-29).

When I pray that the Kingdom of God will advance, I want God to respond by equipping His followers with power enough to sweep through obstacles, crash through opposition, and—in a triumphant flurry—set up His loving, peaceful, and merciful reign. Instead, He seems quite content to work with us in all our weak, messy humanity.

Certainly, some of the most intelligent, powerful, and incredible people I know are Christians and are actively at work to advance the Kingdom. But even their work seems to be limited by the imposition of Christian values. The intelligent are not allowed to brow-beat those who are less intelligent into believing truth. The powerful advance the Kingdom through humble coaxing, not through coercion. Ours is a Kingdom advanced on faithful knees, not on swift feet. Our banner is a cross—an ominous reminder that our very lives are being offered—not a sword which demands the lives of others. Ours is the basin and towel, with which we wash feet, bind up the broken hearted, and minister to the sick and poor. Our calling is to the poor, oppressed, and imprisoned. Ours is prayer and waiting for the Spirit.

And we do these things through small, seemingly inconsequential acts in our everyday humanity. In her book, Traveling Mercies, Anne Lammott says, “I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox full of shiny tools—the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But when I grew up, I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools - friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty - and said, ‘Do the best you can with these. They'll have to do.’ Mostly, against all odds, they're enough.”

This all started to boil over in my mind the other day as I was helping my African refugee friends. I so often feel inadequate when I am helping them. I was trying to help one particular family reestablish their profile with food-stamps and medicare. This lead to a wild goose-chase of calls and ended up with me having to talk to a lawyer. All of which made me feel like I was in way over my head. I truly felt like God should be using a powerful lawyer or a seasoned social worker instead of me.

Driving home, I was thinking about this, and about several other areas of my life. It seems so humble, weak, and foolish. The refugee ministry keeps me humble, daily. And even though things are progressing there, we’ve had some setbacks that make me say, “Lord, what ARE you doing?” My hopes of becoming a missionary to Africa are, for now at least, delayed. I found out that I will not be deploying this summer as I had thought. Again, a “Lord, what ARE you doing?” moment. The lives of several people around me seem to be quite tumultuous right now, and I feel largely unable to help them. So, I simply pray that the Lord will use all the weak, foolish, and lowly things to advance His Kingdom in my life and in the lives around me.

I’ll close with this beautifully stated thought from my friend Adam Thada. In reflecting about Christmas—certainly the beachhead advance for the Kingdom of weak, foolish, and lowly things—he says, “But Christmas is the time to believe in the small things once again, to become poor, foolish and simple. We sow tiny seeds that grow into mighty trees. We follow poor, generous widows and feast on leftover bread and fish. We return acts of kindness for our enemy’s assaults. At Christmas, evil is blindsided as love wins from the underside.” Well said, Adam.