Wilderness Wanderings

Then the Lord God provided a leafy plant and made it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the plant. But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, which chewed the plant so that it withered. …[Jonah] wanted to die, and said, "It would be better for me to die than to live." But God said to Jonah, "Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?" "It is," he said. "And I'm so angry I wish I were dead." But the Lord said, "You have been concerned about this plant, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. And should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?" (Jonah 4:6-7, 8b-11).

I was struck by something in a conversation with a person from our congregation this past week. They said that we tend to take the pre-COVID life that we knew here in North America as "normal." But it's not—not compared to the rest of the world and most of world history. What we have known is luxury, nor normalcy.

The ability to travel, have time for vacation, the reality of disposable income, the education levels, the access to health care, the assumption of trust and safety—these things and much more are all examples of luxury unlike anything most people have known through history or even know still today in many parts of the world—including in significant sections of Canada. Remember, there are people living in this country, many of them indigenous, that still don't have access to clean drinking water.

I wonder: how much of our "normal" fits in the category of Jonah's leafy plant? That is, the personal comforts we get attached to and feel entitled about that we didn't really tend or make grow, but that sometimes garner more concern from us than the wellbeing of our neighbours.

You might challenge me there and say that what you have came from your own hard work and is well deserved. But it's never quite so simple as that. There first has to be the necessities of life: access to food and water. The locust plaguing significant chunks of East Africa and Southwestern Asia right now prove that's not something to be assumed. You need a secure place to live—a place free from war, hostilities, or corrupt government and law enforcement. You need health—something quite fleeting as we are discovering again in the face of a new virus our health system cannot yet protect us against. You need certain skills, which no doubt you learned from someone else or had the time, money, and ability (through an education system) to become educated in—all privileges built on top of the first things in this list.

Said differently, everything that we have is not our own doing, but is a gift. Undeserved. A privilege. And if God is indeed the author and giver of such gifts, then that means they are only ours to hold in trust for the sake of our neighbours, not to keep to ourselves.

This is not an attempt to shame us, but rather, an attempt at perspective. Perspective that we, like Jonah, sometimes lose.

God was just as much God over the hated Assyrians as He was God over Israel. God's compassion extended to all His Creatures—even the sparrows and the cattle. But, God's compassion extended especially to those human people created in His image, even if Jonah's compassion did not.

We have indeed suffered losses through this time of COVID-19. But, I wonder, how many of those things were leafy plants? Gifts we were privileged to have for a time, but not entitled to? Have those leafy plant-gifts stood in the way of compassion for our neighbours?

Neighbours—who at times have been people of colour, protesting on the streets because they have not always had the same gift of safety or security in this land. Neighbours—who at times have been Indigenous people blocking roads and railways because they have not always had the same gifts of access to food, water, health, education, or the law.

We've talked often of hospitality in these past days, and here it comes up again. If all that we've had and continue to have is a gift, not a given—then how might those gifts be shared out of God's kind of compassion with our neighbours?

Love must be sincere…Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality (Romans 12:9a, 13)

This is the final Wilderness Wanderings episode on hospitality; at least for now. Why spend so much time on this topic, you may be asking? Because hospitality in our culture is often about the one hosting; whereas Christian hospitality is about the one being hosted. Let's flesh this out some more.

Businesses such as hotels and restaurants are part of the hospitality industry. Such establishments are all about impressing the customer so that said customer will return. Likewise, we too, want to impress people so they will want to associate with us. Hospitality is largely understood as having people over. More importantly, people we want to associate with. I'm not saying you shouldn't do this anymore. But let me ask a question: when is the last time you invited someone to your house that you didn't want over?

You see, the thing we are talking about, 'Christian hospitality', includes such events. It can include having friends over; it can include going the extra mile to clean the house and preparing a delicious meal. But we don't do it to impress; we do it because the people we have invited are important. Not important in a worldly or cultural or political sense. Hosting them may not benefit us at all. They are important because God has sent them to us. We have the privilege of hosting them on God's behalf, even if we don't want to.

Jesus put's it this way in a parable 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me…Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me' (Matthew 25:45-46).

Many Biblical scholars suggest that the word 'practice' ought to be translated 'pursue.' There is an urgency to it. Recall, that this is part of Paul's mini exhortation on love which begins, "love must be sincere." Love is active, it pursues, it initiates. Further, the word for hospitality includes the idea, "love of strangers". It carries the idea of extending love to those who are different — folks from another culture, another race, or a different belief system. Love takes the initiative, actively looking for opportunities to benefit others, especially those who are different.

A cold, unfriendly church contradicts the gospel message. Yet unfriendliness stands out as one of the most common criticisms people have of the local church. It doesn't take people long to figure out that there is a "churchy" love among Christians that ends shortly after the service. It is a superficial Sunday-morning kind of love that is unwilling to venture beyond the walls of the church building.

At Immanuel CRC in Hamilton, we are working towards re-opening the sanctuary for worship services. The current rules limit us to 30% capacity. I am glad to report that many have asked, "Will there be room for visitors?" I like hearing that question. It indicates that hospitality is alive. It reminds me of what Professor Roger Greenway once said: mission churches begin with hospitality.

Christian hospitality does force us beyond our comfort zones. It demands that we have time, attention and space for strangers that God sends our way and that we tend to their needs before our own.

It also insists that we see ourselves as God sees us: his beloved children who have been loved so deeply that we are able to love. Such hospitality is not rooted in our limited resources, but in the unlimited resources of God. When he calls, he will also provide.

As you journey on, go with these words:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

In Joppa there was a disciple named Tabitha (in Greek her name is Dorcas); she was always doing good and helping the poor. About that time she became sick and died, and her body was washed and placed in an upstairs room. …when the disciples heard that Peter was in Lydda, they sent two men to him and urged him, "Please come at once!" Peter went with them, and when he arrived he was taken upstairs to the room. All the widows stood around him, crying and showing him the robes and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was still with them. Peter sent them all out of the room; then he got down on his knees and prayed. Turning toward the dead woman, he said, "Tabitha, get up." She opened her eyes, and seeing Peter she sat up. He took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. Then he called for the believers, especially the widows, and presented her to them alive. (Acts 9:36-41)

Peter learned a few lessons since his encounter with Aeneas just a few verses earlier.

First, he learned the lesson on hospitality that Pastor Michael talked about yesterday. Peter responded to an invitation from strangers to go to an unfamiliar place, even though he didn't know what he would find. He went with them as they took him to a strange room: an upper room where a woman lay, dead.

When he got there, he took the time to listen to the cries and the stories of the widows and other mourners. He took the time to see the things that they wanted to show him as they tried to explain to Peter what this dead woman had meant to them and how much good she had done for them.

Peter offered Christian hospitality as their guest—being willing to listen, to dwell, and to take a back seat to their lead in this new and unfamiliar place. Because Christian hospitality isn't always about being the host. Sometimes, it's about being a hospitable guest. Peter was.

The second lesson Peter learned, and it's related, is that he isn't the main character in the story. That probably helped him to be a humble guest. But it also led him to acts of faith, like prayer and life-giving words.

You'll maybe notice the difference between this story as compared to the story of Aeneas from Monday. In the story of Aeneas, it is God's action driving the narrative throughout. It is the name of the Lord that's mentioned everywhere. It's the Lord's people, it's Jesus who is healing, and it is Jesus who draws people to Himself through the living breathing testimony of this man healed.

But in the story of Tabitha, God is not named. What is named is the good that Tabitha did. The grief of the widows. And the prayer of Peter that led to Peter's word and action in faith to say to the dead woman: "Tabitha, get up."

Our lives often look more like the story of Tabitha than Aeneas though. No mention of God. No glimpses of Jesus at work. No outpourings of the Spirit. Just people living, dying, doing good, trying to help one another and grieve with one another—all in the midst of the ordinary rooms of ordinary houses on ordinary days.

But again, the book of Acts would suggest that there is more stirring under the surface. Under the ordinary story of Tabitha, lies the active God of the story of Aeneas. Even when we don't see Jesus on the move or the Spirit at work, doesn't mean that he isn't. The story of Tabitha invites us to read between the lines and examine the invisible—helping us cultivate the eyes to see the main character of all our stories, even when He isn't mentioned by name.

Because when you get down to looking, you'll notice—it's the living and active God that Peter consults with in prayer. It's in the power of the Spirit and in the name of Jesus that Peter speaks a word of life that raises a woman from the dead. It is because Tabitha followed this same Lord as a disciple that she was led to do so much good for so many.

So, are you following the story in your own life? The main character is always active, but rarely named or visible. Do you look for Him? Do you talk with Him? Do you follow Him?

Love must be sincere…Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality (Romans 12:9a, 13)

Let's continue our conversation about Christian hospitality. If you're tuning if for the first time or have missed a few, you can find two earlier editions of Wilderness Wanderings that deal with hospitality. My intention with these reflections is to help us discern the difference between our common understand of hospitality and what I am calling 'Christian hospitality.' Please understand that common hospitality is not bad, or something Christians ought not to do. Rather, when Paul instructs us to practice hospitality, he means more than just opening our homes to people.

I have attempted to root this idea of Christian hospitality in God's own character and behaviour. Today, I want to reflect further on that, returning to the idea of Jesus incarnation (that is, his coming to this world as an infant). There are two things I want to mention.

First, Jesus came to earth. When we think of hospitality, we often think about inviting people into our spaces. When we do that, we remain in a comfortable place, and to a large extent, in control of the situation. We can expect people to play by our rules when they enter our space. But Jesus came to earth. He turns the concept of hospitality on its head. He comes into our space. And he sends us out, he says 'Go'. Go into other people's spaces. Part of Christian hospitality then, is to let go of the control that comes from being in our own spaces and learning how to live and move in some else's.

Let's pause for a moment. Are there places we don't want to go? Are there places that make us uncomfortable and therefore we stay away or leave as quickly as possible? I think the honest answer is yes. As a pastor, I have been invited into quite a few spaces that were very unfamiliar, in which I really did not know how to behave. I'm sure that I made a mess of some situations. But in such spaces, I have learned to ask a simple question, why did you invite me here, or what would you like me to do since I'm here anyways. I've found that asking such a question empowers people; it lets them set the agenda. It also reminds me that there is lots I don't know and that people might not need anything from me but my being present.

This leads to a second point about the incarnation: because Jesus has lived as a human, he can sympathize with us. The book of Hebrews makes a big deal about this. How long did Jesus live here? About 33 years. This ought to give us pause. How can we sympathize with people if we don't invest time in walking with them?

An essential component of Christian hospitality is the ability to sympathize with other people. This can not be rushed. So, hospitality invites us in for the long haul. It calls us to pay attention to people, to set aside our own agendas, especially our answers to their problems and just to listen. We have a tendency to see people as projects that we get to fix. Once, fixed, we move on to the next. People are not projects. They are people. Each human is as much an image bearer of God as you and I am.

We haven't spent much time in other people's homes over the past months. Many of us will not feel comfortable doing so for a long time. As such, we have not been able to practice common hospitality. But we can still practice Christian hospitality. It doesn't require going into people's homes or inviting them into ours (even though that makes it easier). We can still pay close attention to people. We can still ask questions that empower people. We can still walk along side of them. And we can still learn to sympathize with them.

Does this understanding of hospitality unnerve you? Does it seem more difficult than just inviting someone over? Of course, it does. But remember this, after Jesus returned to the Father, he sent his Spirit. God's Holy Spirit now makes his home in us. He empowers us to be hospitable. He helps us love like God loves.

As Peter traveled about the country, he went to visit the Lord's people who lived in Lydda. There he found a man named Aeneas, who was paralyzed and had been bedridden for eight years. "Aeneas," Peter said to him, "Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and roll up your mat." Immediately Aeneas got up. All those who lived in Lydda and Sharon saw him and turned to the Lord. (Acts 9:32-35)

After the scattering of the church at the stoning of Stephen in Acts, chapter 8, we tag along with an unlikely group of Deacons, sorcerers, foreign dignitaries, faithful saints on the frontiers, and venomous enemies-turned-friends. Those are the stories of Philip, Simon the Sorcerer, the Ethiopian Eunuch, Ananias, and Saul.

Peter and John show up in one of those stories as a side bar: really just to check in and make sure everything was up to snuff when they heard some Samaritan outsiders had believed the Gospel, but then they disappear back to Jerusalem.

It's only here after Saul's conversion that Peter, the foremost among the apostles, reenters the story as the main character. After holing up in Jerusalem following the scattering of the church, Peter himself is now finally venturing out "about the country."

As he does, Peter discovers what others like Philip and Saul had discovered already: it's not safe out there on the loose. The Sovereign Lord is moving about through His Spirit in the Name of Jesus.

Just listen: Who does Peter visit? The Lord's people. Who healed Aeneas? "Jesus Christ heals." Who preached the Word that transformed the lives of all those in Lydda and Sharon? Jesus' healing action manifested in the life and body of Aeneas. Everyone saw him and turned to the Lord. Peter didn't do a thing but show up and witness to what Jesus was doing.

So, Peter doesn't actually become the main character. Neither had Saul, Philip, or Ananias before him. The main character remained the same throughout all these accounts: God. Peter simply joins the list of those discovering and witnessing God's work "about the country" among the scattered church.

It begs the question: whose the main character in your life's story? We tend to think it is ourselves. We're the main character of our own stories, aren't we?

I think the book of Acts would like to tell us: "no. We're side characters in God's story, not the other way round."

God is the main character. The one who gave us life and breath—a world to live in, and the gifts and skill to navigate it.

Jesus is the main character. The one who redeemed our lives and holds them fast in body and soul, life and in death—even against pandemics, unemployment, and the anxieties of the future.

The Spirit is the main character. The one who continues to do new things, bringing change that hurts, but that also gives fresh opportunities for being molded into the likeness of Christ in humility, love, compassion, and grace.

So, are you following the story? Is your attention focused on the main character?

Love must be sincere… Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality (Romans 12:9a, 13)

Today, we continue our reflections on the Christian discipline of hospitality. The terse command, practice hospitality, comes in the midst of a brief meditation on love. Remember that love is primarily an attitude of the mind. This attitude leads us to love others in practical ways. Last time, I gave examples of God's hospitality because I suggested that if Christians are to recover this lost discipline, it must be rooted in our understanding of who God is. I closed by inviting you to find other examples of God's hospitality in the Bible.

Now I want to move on to explore other ways that hospitality shows up in the scriptures and what we can learn from them. To do this, I draw your attention to three different passages. First, from Hebrews 13:2, which the NIV translates as, "Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it" (2). Many believe that the author is referencing the story in Genesis 18 in which Abraham invites three strangers to a meal. One of those strangers was God himself.

This verse in Hebrews 13 comes on the heals of instruction that Christians keep loving each other as sisters and brothers. Hospitality within the church body naturally leads to inviting outsiders in. Twice this week, Wilderness Wanderings has referenced Acts 4:32, "All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had." That is the second passage I want to draw to your attention. As was asked, how could these early Christians live like that?

To give a different answer to that question, I draw your attention to a third passage. This one takes place during a famine in Israel. God sends his prophet Elijah to a widow. He finds this widow preparing a last meal for herself and her son. After that they will die of starvation. Elijah has the nerve to ask her to prepare some bread for him first: talk about hospitality to a stranger! He follows up his request with this promise, "this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: 'The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land'" (1 Kings 17:14).

The widow did as Elijah asked. She fed her, her family and herself until the Lord provided rain for the land. For me, she is the prime human example of hospitality in the Bible. This story gets at its heart.

For many of us, hospitality has become an act of impressing others; an act of showing off. We show case our homes, our decorating abilities, our capacity to put on a meal, our ability to entertain. Unless we can imitate Martha Stewart or some celebrity chef, we feel inadequate. In short, such hospitality is about us. If we Christians are to regain the discipline of hospitality, it cannot be about us. Many of us want to portray a sense of having it all together. We cannot give out of our abundance. It will never be enough.

Rather, we need to give out of God's provision. He has provided us with resources, not to hold onto tightly, but to hold loosely, so that they easily slide out of our fingers towards those God invites us to love. We need to develop the faith of this widow, who acted hospitably towards Elijah, trusting in God's provision for herself and her family.

Isn't one of God's persistent promises that he will provide for us? Jesus articulates it this way in Matthew 6, "But seek first [God's] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things (clothes, food, shelter) will be given to you as well" (33). Trust in this promise enables us to practice hospitality. We can only practice it, because we know that God is hospitable towards us.

"Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them." (Matthew 18:19-20)

The worship page on our church's website has, since the beginning of the lock down way back in March, begun with these words:

Welcome to Worship not at but as Immanuel CRC! We gather in homes across the area under Jesus' promise that: "where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them" (Matthew 18:20). Whether worshiping alone today or gathered with others, as you join the prayers, songs, and scripture of this service, you join in worship together, in faith, with a whole church family.

This promise of Jesus is a very special one indeed, especially for times like these when we worship in the wilderness, separated from the rest of our community by time and space. I mean that quite literally: we worship at different times and different spaces now than we did when we all came together at a single time and at a single place in the church building.

So, the promise that Jesus is with us anyway, even in small groups, even when separated by time and space from one another is pretty radical. It's pretty comforting and empowering, too.

Of course, Jesus' words were already pretty radical back in His day. The Jewish faith of that time required ten adult males in order for the practice of corporate worship to take place. If you didn't have ten men together, you could not have corporate worship.

So, Jesus not only drops the qualification of gender, but He also radically lowers the qualification of quantity. "

Jesus raises up the place of the small prayer group, conferring great power and privilege upon them. They don't only have access to the throne, but the king comes to them—so the time and place don't really matter—the king meets you whenever and wherever you are. And, this small prayer group is not only heard by the King, but when they agree in what they ask, the King moves in action on their request.

As we are separated from the large corporate gatherings of worship in our central building, we have been given an opportunity to discover anew the power and privilege promised by Jesus to the small prayer group. It is the promise of His presence, of His reception of our prayers, worship, and devotion. It is the promise of His action in our lives and in the life of the world. In short: it's the promise that where two or three gather—they are still His church. The corporate body in worship, discipleship, and mission.

So, as restrictions are eased in our Province and City around group gatherings, it's an excellent time to start gathering together for worship with two or three, or maybe even up to ten others, if you can do so within the health guidelines, and if you're comfortable with it. You can gather in a back yard, run a power cord out and set up your computer or TV so all can see and participate, sing and pray together. Or maybe you can think of other creative ways.

You could gather with some or all of your Faith Family, with some of your relatives, with some of your neighbors, or with some of your friends.

And, it's an especially good time to do it, because this Sunday, we'll be celebrating the Lord's Supper together. So, if you gather in a group, invite everyone to bring their own bread and juice with them so that you can participate in the community of communion together in a tangible way.

"Where two or three gather in my name, says Jesus, there am I with them."

If you'd like more information on our Council's approved plan for a spectrum of worship options that includes the options of Single Homes and individuals, but also of Networks of small gatherings, head to our church's website and click the Scattered <=> Gathered icon.

Love must be sincere… Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality (Romans 12:9a, 13)

Today, we begin a rather unpopular conversation regarding hospitality. Many of us don't like that word. Despite that, it is here in Romans 12 as a command. It is an aspect of sincere love. So, whether we like it or not, part of Christian discipleship is hospitality. In the Christian Reformed denomination, in which I am a pastor, each congregation has a group of leaders called elders. They are charged with the promotion of fellowship and hospitality in the congregation. The idea that hospitality is essential to the Christian life has long been recognized.

It seems to me that this aspect of love has fallen on hard times, partly because it is misunderstood. But maybe also, because in today's church we do not spend enough time reflecting and preaching about God. Yes, you did read that right. I suspect that hospitality has fallen on hard times because we focus way too much on ourselves. Since we are going to spend several days on hospitality, let's begin at the beginning, lets start with God and his hospitality.

When we open the Bible, what is the first thing that we learn about God? We encounter him creating the world, but have you ever noticed how Genesis 2 tells the story. In this chapter God plants a garden for the humans: "trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food" (2:9). Then in the next chapter, when everything has gone wrong in the garden, what happens? God shows up 'walking in the garden in the cool of the day' calling out to the humans, 'where are you?' Its long been understood that it was normal for God to come and spend time with his people. But now they were hiding.

If we are to learn about hospitality from God than there are two things we should pay attention to here: God creates space and time. Both are essential components of hospitality. This is not the only place in the Bible where God portrays hospitality. Think about the common phrase used to describe the promised land as Israel travels from Egypt through the wilderness: it is a land flowing with milk and honey. God took Israel, a nation severely oppressed, a group of slaves toiling for the Egyptians night and day, and brought them to such a land. He brought them there to give them rest (see Hebrews 3 & 4). God intended it to be a space for them to flourish and prosper.

Isn't Jesus arrival in this world another example of God's hospitality? We use a big word, incarnation, to talk about this. It has its usefulness, but it hides the remarkable implications of Jesus' arrival. John, one of Jesus disciples, wrote that Jesus 'made his dwelling among us' (John 1:14). In other words, he made his home on this earth with us. Jesus spent lots of time eating and drinking with people and inviting others to join him. To Zacchaeus he said, "Come down from that tree, I must go to your house today" (Luke 19:5). Understand, that an essential aspect of hospitality is time.

Why did Jesus come to make his home among us? Was it not to create a new community on this earth? A community in which all peoples, no matter what their language or colour or place of origin, can find a home? (Eph. 2:19; Rev. 5:9). As God was bringing Israel towards the promised land, he told them, "So, you also must love outsiders. Remember that you yourselves were outsiders in Egypt" (Deuteronomy 10:19). If that was true for Israel of old, it is equally true of the church today. Do you see hospitality as an essential part of God's character and of his work?

There is much more to say about hospitality. But for now, how often have you thought about God's hospitality? See if you can find other examples of it in the Bible.

All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God's grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need. (Acts 4:32-35)

We alluded yesterday to the church of Acts and the way they loved one another practically and generously. Not only in words, but in very concrete and quite literally costly deeds. Today we zoom in on that story.

Now, there are a number of counter-cultural strands that run through this story.

Just listen:

A community that was one in heart and mind? No one claimed their possessions as their own? They shared everything? There were no needy persons among them?

How did it happen?

Well, Luke, the writer of Acts places the emphasis for this loving generosity quite directly on the work of God among them. The power was in "God's grace" at work and in the testimony about "the resurrection of the Lord Jesus."

God's self-emptying act of love in giving everything so that life might overflow in resurrection for not just Jesus, but through Jesus for all: this was God's grace—God's "gift." And God's grace-gift worked powerfully in the hearts and minds of this new community to transform, in the power of the Spirit, their understanding of just about everything.

Everything they had—their life, their possessions, their talents, and now their identity and hope too—was a gift of God. A grace of God. Nothing was of their deserving. Nothing was of their accomplishment. Nothing was for them alone. It all came long before as a grace of God. A grace of God which now worked powerfully in them to transform them into the self-giving, generous likeness of Jesus, their resurrected Lord.

No one among them was in need, because God's grace was sufficient and was powerfully overflowing one to another as it transformed each in the way of Christ. The kingdom was coming on Earth as it is in Heaven in this Christian community.

Yesterday, you were invited to wonder about the question "how you would know if someone from your church was in need?" The question was asked with a eye to showing the practical love of generosity with them.

Today, the question is: how has God's grace already empowered you with gifts that can transform you to live generously? Even in COVID-19, they're there.

See His gifts, count them one by one, and let God's grace transform you today.

Love must be sincere… Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality (Romans 12:9a, 13)

If you belong to a church, how would you know if someone is in need? Our text for today says, "Share with the Lord's people who are in need." When it says, 'the Lord's people', this does not mean 'the Lord's people' somewhere far away, but 'the Lord's people' right here in the same congregation to which we belong. Thus, the question, how would you know if someone in your congregation is in need?

You are probably asking, "Is it really my responsibility to find out if someone is in need? Isn't it their responsibility to call one of the deacons and say, 'I need help!'" The way that the apostle Paul writes our text, suggests that it is not the person in need who should be sticking up their hand to ask for help. Rather, it is those with resources to share who should be looking for someone to share with.

This text implies that Christians in their nature are generous. Early in Acts we read that the members of the church 'had everything in common' (Acts 2:44; 4:32-35). Christians voluntarily shared their stuff with those more in need then themselves. The leaders did not need to make an appeal for the 'benevolence fund'; it was always full.

We have been considering different aspects of the central command, "Love must be sincere." This Christian love is not a feeling, even though feelings ought to be part of it, this love is an attitude of the mind. It is a choice we make to love others in practical ways; to love in the same way that God loves us. This love is an action which flows out of us naturally.

In today's snippet, we are told that sincere love includes looking for people to share with. When we are among members of our church, we are on the lookout for those we are able to share with. This may be the most difficult aspect of love yet. I'll make this confession. I don't go to a church gathering with this kind of attitude. It's more likely that when someone has a need, they need to beg for help. And I make excuses. Here are a few I remember making: I don't have time for this, I've got a sermon to preach; or I don't have resources for this, I live on a preacher's salary after all; or I don't know how to help this person, their needs are too complicated. And if I can't find any excuses, I move on to blame: you should work harder or did you squander your resources?

All feeble excuses, to be sure. Yet, I have made them. These are not the attitude of a heart that pulsates with God's love. I think it is fair to say that many Christian have become stingy. We have given over the ministries of mercy to agencies. There is wisdom in that. However, it has given us permission to hold tightly onto the rest of our resources.

Love that is sincere is not stingy. It freely shares whatever it has. Such love sees our resources not as things we own, but as gifts that God has given us for the wellbeing of ourselves and others. Our text uses the word koinonia, frequently used as a word for church. It means more than just sharing one's abundance with someone in need. This has shared suffering in mind. Love gives even when it hurts. It shares money freely even when money is tight. And when the contributions have run out, love continues to share in the need of another.

Such love is not rooted in what we have, but in God who has given us what we have. We have been given the full and free mercy of God. Out of that abundance we are called to share with those in need.

What if we always carried some money in our wallets that we intended to give away? How would the world change? How would the perception of Christians change? Remember the question we began with, 'How would you know if someone is in need?'