Plentiful and Few

"And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synogaugues and proclaiming the gospel of the Kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he was with the crowds, he had compassion for them because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples 'the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, therefore pray ernestly to the Lord of the harvest to send our laborers into his harvest." -Matthew9:35-38

I remember hearing this story when I was a new Christian. I am not sure if I interpreted this verse myself or if someone had told me, but I do remember I used to think that this meant that there were lots of good things out there that God wants to give us, but only a few people will get them because they are the ones working for Jesus.

Tonight, as I was reading my bible and enjoying how much he book of Matthew is about doing little things with great love, I came across this passage and was amazed at how differently I viewed these words. These words are a plea from Jesus. After having just seen a world confronted with so many problems and people in need of help, Jesus is overwhelmed. He just spent his whole day trying to rid people of diseases and cure them from heartache, and there is still helplessness all around Him.

Generally, most people think of the harvest a good thing. We have harvest festivals, and know that the harvest brings us food. I think the harvest that Jesus is talking about here though, is a different kind of harvest. One of pain and sin. The difficult things seem to grow so quickly and escalate so fast that it seems to surround us everywhere we go. You can not escape it in the suburbs or the city or even at camp, it is everywhere. Here, Jesus teaches his disciples to do what they can for those around them and pray that God will raise people up to love like he does. Little things with great love. God's solution: not to go out and fix everything, but to pray that God will move others to love and care for the people around them. Saying that prayer moves us to do that too.

I love that. I love that God stops in the midst of all the distress and answers with prayer and compassion. The harvest is plentiful, so I pray that the workers become plentiful too. I pray that the world will become a place where everyone cares for others, and that we always remember how small we are. We are not the answer, and we need one another. I think the Animaniacs say it pretty well.=)

I found this story that I wrote about 2 years ago or so and I decided I liked it, so I thought I would share it =) I wrote it before going to Moldova, but now I think it's funny because Zece actually means 10 in Romanian. Hmmm

There was once a very rich man whose job was to sell balloons. This man’s balloons were very beautiful with paintings on them that could bring your soul alive. Everyday he would walk around the town with a carefully selected batch and sell them to very rich children. However, this story is not about the man or even about his balloons. This story is about Zece, a poor servant boy who worked for the very rich balloon man.

Every night when the rich man came home to his fancy house he put his balloons in a very cold room (cold air is very good for balloons). Zece was hired to watch the balloons at night and make sure that none of them popped and that nobody stole them. The rich man did not trust Zece though, because he was a servant boy, so every night, along with the balloons, the rich man locked  Zece in the room with a key that only worked from the outside. In that room, Zece would lay on the hard cold floor protecting the balloons from any harm. He would separate them and choose which balloons would be taken the next day. He would hold each one so that it felt loved. He cared for them with great delicacy and dedication, and even though he was only paid 5 pennies for every night he spent in the room, Zece worked as hard as he could. And in the mornings when the rich man unlocked the door, Zece would say a prayer for the balloons that were to enter the world that day.

During the day Zece would wander the streets of the city looking for food others left behind or small jobs that needed to be done. Once in a while, when he was out and about, he would see one of his balloons with a child and his heart would soar! He always smiled and waved. The children thought he was silly, or even dangerous because they did not know him, but he did not mind. It was not them that he was waving to (even though they often thought he was).

One day while roaming the streets Zece saw a little girl with one of his precious balloons. As soon as it caught his eye, he began to smile and wave, but quickly stopped himself. The little girl who was holding the balloon was tugging it and hitting it as she walked along. Zece did not like to see the balloons, which were the only things in his life he had to protect and care for, being treated so crudely. Quickly and quietly, Zece began to follow the little girl.

It soon became apparent that the little girl cared very little for the balloon. As she followed her father through the streets of the city, she whined and pouted. She seemed quite angry and she appeared to be venting her frustrations on Zece’s precious balloon. Finally, he had seen enough, and Zece decided that he must steal the balloon back.

He followed the little girl to her home and watched her as she went upstairs to a bedroom. Zece climbed a nearby tree and hid himself among the branches. He waited for quite a while there, sitting quietly perched upon a branch. The sun was moving lower and lower in the sky and Zece was worried that if he stayed much longer he might be too late for the rich man to allow him to work that night. Still, he waited, and finally the little girl left the room. Zece seized his chance and went to the window, which he pried open easily. He hopped into the room, grabbed the balloon and turned to leave when the little girl re-appeared.

“Hey!” She shouted, and Zece stood frozen. If he had been a normal street boy, he would have known to run, but being so pure of heart he found that his feet could not move.

“What are you doing in my bedroom and why do you have my balloon?” the little girl asked. She was not shouting anymore, which Zece was grateful for because he was worried her father might hear her and come running.

Zece paused a moment and considered telling the girl a lie, but the words did not come quickly enough, and the truth spilled out.

“I am the poor servant boy who cares for the balloons every night. I sleep on a hard cold floor, for barely enough money to buy a bite of bread during the day, but still I come every night to the home of the rich man to care for his balloons. I love them dearly, and when I saw you in the street today dragging and hitting your balloon, I was very upset. I followed you to your home because I wanted to protect it.”

The little girl was stunned, she had not expected the boy to answer her at all, much less give her an answer that demonstrated compassion. She instantly knew that she trusted Zece and felt shame for the way that she had treated the balloon when she was angry.

“I’m sorry boy, I was very sad today because my father bought me this balloon out of bribery, not out of love. To me it was a symbol of how unimportant I am to him. He only got it for me because he wanted me to be quiet as I came with him on some errands. I wish I had someone who cared for me as much as you care for your balloons.” She added sadly.

“I care for the balloons” said Zece, “but they also care for me. In the night when I am all alone, I have their beautiful stories to keep me company. I don’t even mind being locked in the room all night, because during the time I am with them I feel like the richest boy in all the world. And when I wander the streets during the day, they always find me and remind me of the hope I have. In caring for them I have found that I have been taken care of too. Though I had to give up my freedom at night, the chance of warmth, and even fair wages I have been given hope. Please take care of my balloon” said Zece, and he scrambled back out the window and disappeared into the darkening city.

That night the little girl who was angry and hurt experienced a transformation of the heart. She knew that in order to ever feel loved she must start giving love away freely. The next day she searched for the boy, but could not find him anywhere, so early in the afternoon, when she returned to her house she hung her warmest blanket outside of her bedroom window on the tree branch. When she returned, the blanket was gone, and in it’s place was a beautiful new string for her balloon. Each day after that she left the boy some food that she saved from her own meals on her windowsill. She kept hoping that she would meet with the boy again, but he never seemed to appear when she was present.

Finally, one day, the children met on the street. They did not speak or embrace, but they waved like old friends, smiling at one another and passing on hope. And the little girl felt dearly loved by the boy who cared for the balloons, and the boy felt peace at knowing that the little girl cared for things now, the way he had always hoped that she would.

The End

I would go to this guys church anyday.

Listening

Today I was thinking about listening and it occurred to me that I have to work to listen even when I am just listening to the quiet. If I don't stop myself from thinking and intentionally hear the quiet, sometimes I miss it altogether. Isn't that ironic?

Church: Re-imagined

Sometimes I get on a visionary kick. Somedays I feel as if I can do anything, be anything, and create anything. I know it sounds kind of juvenile and naive, but there are times when I re-imagine the world and completely believe that it could change! Actually, those times happen more often than not. 

Since (as demonstrated by my last post) I have recently been thinking about the church, I decided to start day dreaming about a new kind of church. As I was contemplating this, I got really excited about the idea! I don't think it is enough for us to hold onto the same kind of structure, we need to build something entirely different than what our world has seen before. Something as old as dirt, but that feels completely new. I thought how I wanted to get back to experiencing God together, and I think it is possible.

What if we had an experience church. One with no pastor who gives weekly sermons. What if the people take ownership of the church and our weekly gatherings were led by the members of the church themselves. It wouldn't be so much instruction on how to live your life as it would be sharing life together.

I imagine board games available for people who just want to show and and play games with one another in community. Having fun together is crucial, and I think we tend to forget that a lot. It is also great for building fellowship and helps us learn to love one another.

In another room we could just have space for discussions. If you want to talk about something you could lead a discussion at church the next week. It could be anything from abortion or politics to lonliness or depression. No topic is off limits. And all would be welcome: kids, teens, adults... anyone. We wouldn't seperate from one another, we would all learn from each other! People just need space to talk to each other, and time to be heard. We should be intentionally doing this for one another!

Worship would be freestyle.  Anyone could bring there instrument (kazoos are welcome too!) or you could just join in. It would be spontaneous, but welcome. People would pray for one another, build up relationships, plan to volunteer or serve together.

The church I imagine would be about experiencing God together. It would be a commitment to one anothers lives, to sharing with one another and taking care of each other. We would be the church to each other so that we could be the church to the world. With space and love. Not structured sermons and watered down worship. It would be a family of believers experiencing the goodness of God together. A taste of his kingdom. A place where people could just be. Just come and not have to do or be anything, just exist and be loved for it.

I don't think that people would find the need to hunt for a church that fits their specific needs if church were this way, because the church would be what you need it to be! Although, I do realize I am being extremely idealist here. I just feel that the world is ready for something new. People are thirsting to EXPERIENCE God... not just hear about Him. And we are thirsting to experience one another too (that's sometimes the best way to learn about God anyway). Afterall... the church is the people.

It is a love it/hate it kinda thing

Recently, I have become an employee of a church. As a previously hesitant church-goer, I wasn't sure how I would do as a person who was regularly expected to participate in Sunday morning church activities and the like. Something about the American church has always kept me at a distance. I'm still not quite sure what it is. Maybe it is the idea that Christians have to sit through a sermon on Sunday mornings to be considered part of the church. Maybe it is the adventurous part of me that wants to be moving and exploring all the time... lets face it, our generation is not exactly one that focuses too much on settling down. Anyway, the other day I was sitting in a meeting (enjoying what was going on) and I began to think about why going to church has been difficult for me. (Before I continue, let me make it clear, that this is not my opinion of the church I am working at, but rather my view of the American Church in general.)

Recently, the church has become a tool for evangelism. We focus our time and efforts on getting non-believers to come in our doors, find Jesus, and help us continue to recruit others. The sermons have to become "Seeker-friendly" and even small groups continually work to bring in new people. So much effort is going in to conversion rather than life transformation. In my opinion, the church should be a place for fellowship and growth. The church is a place made up of faithful believers who are working to follow God's Word together, people with an alternative way of living. It is not about bringing as many new people in as possible, and if that is our focus, we have lost our way. In Acts, people were loving one another and working to grow with each other, and others naturally saw that and wanted to join. I do believe there is a time for evangelism, but I do not believe it is at the pulpit. Being a faithful follower of God does not mean we need to convert the most amount of people. Being a faithful follower of God does not mean that we need to focus on how to make our own lives better. Being a follower of God means we have to work together to love a broken world, and join in the effort to bring His kingdom of peace and love to all of creation.

When churches focus so heavily on "bringing people to Christ" (I know this blog has contained a lot of Christan-ese) we lose the fact that we have to care for one another as well. We can not allow ourselves to become so intent upon conversion that we fail to be the Church. People do not want to join a mission. They want to join a family.

Being Home

I anticipated that being home would be hard, and I was right. It is not so much the reverse culture shock that is getting me, I DO wish everyone was speaking Romanian and that the grocery store didn't have to be inside with everything boxed, but I was expecting that and can handle it. It is the longing to be in a place that I can't be right now that makes it so difficult!

I love my family, and friends, and the support network I have here, but it isn't where I feel like I am supposed to be! I feel like God is calling me to be in Moldova and I hate feeling like I am not listening to God by being in the states. I'm really really trying to trust in the wisdom of the WMF Staff from Moldova. I do trust them, and I know that I am not the only one who is capable of listening to God and discerning what he wants. It is just extremely hard to trust in that when I so strongly believe that that is the place I am supposed to be right now!

I have had dreams every (and I mean every) night since I have been home of things that I could have done differently so that I could have stayed. I don't allow myself to think about it during the day very much, so I think my longing comes out at night. The other night I dreamed that I decided to live homeless in Chisinau (an idea which did actually cross my mind at the time, lol). I just feel like there are so many "if only" situations, that maybe I could still be there!

When I do allow myself to think about it during the day, I spend my time teaching myself Romanian and/or looking up opportunities for people to live and work in Chisinau. I have found every international school in the city, looked at Youth for Christ International, and even things that I could do with the American Embassy over there. In my heart though, I know I want to go back with Word Made Flesh, and maybe I will be able to someday. I am just impatient.

It just hurts. Being human really hurts. It hurts to feel unwanted and to feel abandoned. It hurts to feel jealous and lonely. It hurts to feel like you are not valuable. I am trying to hard to remind myself that all of those things are lies. I am not unwanted, abandoned, or alone. I have lots of value and no need to be jealous because God has great things for me! I am trying, but some days I don't do so well.

Right before all of this happened in Chisinau I began to pray that God would humble me. I felt like I was becoming a bit prideful and leaning on my own strength instead of God's. I vocalized this to both my team mates and one of my good Moldovan friends. They all prayed for me, and I prayed for it too. He did not humble me in the way I expected Him to at all! I never meant that I wanted to leave, but that's what happened, and believe me I have been humbled!

I do think joy and hope are really important things though! I think that joy and hope are what keep us moving, what keep us motivated. Its kind of fun to look for joy in places where joy is not obvious. It is really healing to search for hope in places of despair. And it is freeing to trust in God and not rely on my own abilities to accomplish things and heal brokenness. Maybe that is what god wanted for me in all of this mess.