Sacrifice
Name that Dollar
What if every dollar we earned had a name on it?
In the sixth chapter of 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess, Jen Hatmaker defined consumerism as spending money on our own desires. Charity, by contrast, she depicted as a river of dollars selflessly sent towards the needs of others.
As I considered the benefits of a spending fast, I realized how utterly disconnected I am from my money. Yes, I budget our money and search carefully for high value purchases as a matter of stewardship. I pay for my goods and services with a debit card, not credit. But the simple fact that I lay plastic on the counter, not cash, has created an imperceptible buffer between me and the monies I spend. I sign the little sheet of slick, white register tape for the sum of my purchase without the effort — or thought — of counting out the dollars necessary to complete the transaction. Read More
Let the Children Come…
It was so comfortable. Having the necessary funds to bankroll college for our two daughters set aside before they were even in kindergarten gave me tremendous freedom with our finances. All we had to do was let a meager interest rate do its work for the years that lay ahead. Read More
Social Justice: Craze or Creed?
Having a social justice platform is downright ubiquitous these days. Blogs, talks and conferences on the array of justice topics abound in religious and secular circles alike.
But is it just a craze that will follow Silly Bandz and Beanie Babies into oblivion?
I certainly hope not.
After spending the last few months studying the book of James, and attending the Justice Conference in February, I have a fairly strong opinion on this topic. Read More
Being Boaz: Our Role as the Kinsman-Redeemer
In the book of Ruth, we meet Boaz, a man who heeded God’s instruction to the Israelites 
to not glean to the edges of their fields. Through his faithfulness, Ruth, a destitute young widow and a foreigner, was able to glean food for herself and her mother-in-law from his crops. When he learned of her vulnerability, Boaz sought to protect Ruth as she worked in the fields (Ruth 2:9,22). Perhaps he knew too well how easily women could be taken advantage of. After all, his mother, Rahab, was the harlot of Jericho who helped the men of Israel escape when pursued by their enemies (Joshua 2).
Giving…With Just Cause
Should we base our tithe on our pre-tax or post-tax income? This debate occurs somewhat frequently in circles when the topic of tithing arises. I’ve asked the question, too.
Frankly, I’ve decided it’s beside the point. I find it to be a flimsy veil behind which hands are clenched tightly around dollars and ‘stuff.’ What, then, will liberate treasure from our grubby little mitts?
Commitment and Sacrifice
With commitment comes a loss of freedom. Committing to give in the form of dollars or hours implicitly requires denial of self in another area, if for no other reason than we lack infinite resources.
Sacrifice, by definition, isn’t sacrifice unless it costs something. When we give to a charitable organization, including churches, we commonly deduct it on our Federal taxes, rendering our sacrifice less costly to us. Read More
Standers-by
When you see someone in trouble, do you stop to help or walk past, assuming that somebody else will do it? Would you want passers-by to provide assistance if the person in trouble was your child?
NBC recently staged a child-abduction on the streets of New York City to see how many people would get involved when they encountered a seven year old girl pulling away from a man, yelling for help, “You’re not my daddy.” It took hours of repeating the scenario before someone responded and came to her aid.
Earlier this month, in the Guangdong province of China, a two-year-old girl was run over in a marketplace. Eighteen people walked or cycled past before someone responded to her need.
In both cases, we’re quick to condemn those who did not intervene, but must consider whether we have looked the other way when we know we should have done something.
When asked what one must do to inherit eternal life, Jesus responded that we must love God and love our neighbors. He illustrated what it means to be a ‘neighbor’ in the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Both a priest and a Levite observed but passed by the man who had been beaten and robbed instead of providing assistance; they chose the role of bystander, while the Samaritan got involved.
bystander –
a person present but not involved; onlooker; spectator
What if Jesus had taken the role of the bystander: present, but uninvolved. What if he saw our need and, though fully capable of meeting it, fancied Himself too important or too busy to do anything, and assumed that someone else would take responsibility for both our physical and spiritual conditions?
- Bartimaeus would have spent the rest of his days in blinded darkness. (Mark 10)
- Jairus would have outlived his young daughter. (Mark 5)
- The leper may never have enjoyed human contact again. (Matthew 8)
- The paralytic would not have walked home. (Luke 5)
And you and I would remain dead in our transgressions. (Ephesians 2)
Shudder.
We are called to be more than bystanders to those around us because of our relationship with Him. We are meant to be His hands and feet on this earth. God gave us the ability and privilege of helping others – His children, people made in His image. In His calling on Abram’s life, God said He would bless Abram, and that Abram, in turn, was to be a blessing. (Genesis 12)
Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. –James 2:15-17 NIV
Instead of being bystanders, let us become standers-by:
stand-by –
a person or thing that is ready for use or can be relied on in an emergency; in a state of readiness to act, respond, or be used immediately when needed.
We don’t have the power to forgive sin or change spiritual conditions; that’s God’s work. But we can stand at-the-ready to be His agent in the world. When God puts another’s need in our path, we are, in most cases, capable of doing something – no matter how small.
Doing something is doing the right thing. It may or may not be life-saving, but it will be life-giving.
For further consideration:
Why does God urge us to get involved in another’s distress?
– It shows our love for Him and wins others to Christ.
– It is a way of loving God Himself.
– It reminds us of our need for Him, in practical and eternal ways.
What would you add to that list?
Empty Handed
Help. Why (why!) is help so hard to ask for?
My husband occasionally travels for work, just two or three times a year. As a very involved husband and father, he’s always willing to pitch in for any need I have. So much so that when he’s gone, his helpful presence is definitively missed. During one of his rare travel weeks, I became aware that I had commitments to two children in three different locations on one night. There wasn’t time enough between the appointments to collect and drop off the right child at the right venue. I couldn’t pull it all off by myself, so I bit the bullet and tapped a few friends for some assistance. It was difficult to ask; I don’t like putting my responsibilities on another’s shoulders. I consoled myself with the notion that I’d gladly reciprocate in the future. They were gracious, and cheerfully arranged their afternoon and evening plans to support me.
This week, in a completely different situation, I had to ask for help again, but from different people and for different reasons. The need was much more significant, not merely a matter of being late to art class. It involved an enormous commitment of precious resources… resources that I don’t have and will never have.
I am unable to tranquilize the pain of my need with future reciprocity: I simply won’t be able to.
Though asking for help chauffeuring my kids was challenging, making this request was almost crippling. For me, the ability to reciprocate when asking for help seems to mitigate the condition of need. It makes me feel less needy, perhaps because my need appears limited in duration or nature. Where I feel able to repay, I am more willing to be indebted, if only temporarily. Where I am destitute of skill, time or money, I resist asking for help, because I am unable to give back. The pride of self-reliance, in other words, keeps me from seeking that which I genuinely need.
To receive Christ, we must, in humility, acknowledge our utter bankruptcy before God: I am sinful and in desperate need of a Savior. I have nothing to offer in exchange for my redemption from the judgment I justly deserve. I come to the Throne empty handed. And this is precisely how the Father intends it: that we are fully aware of our inability to earn the Grace, pay for the Gift. But God doesn’t stop at salvation and justification. Those events set in motion another work of the Holy Spirit: sanctification, the purifying process of becoming holy.
I struggled deeply to ask for help this week. I struggled even more profoundly to receive it. In and out of tears from the discomfort of my need, I slowly – too slowly – became aware this was something I needed to wrestle out and be purified of. God was pressing me to again be willing to acknowledge my poverty. Not for my salvation, but my sanctification. My discomfort in receiving the help I needed, but couldn’t repay, revealed a prideful independence, a lack of reliance on my Father. In humbly confessing my temporal needs to man, I would also confess my need to the Lord. The act of asking for help became a sanctifying work of the Spirit.
I want to more readily ask for help in the future, without promise of compensation, as fruit of this experience. I hope to see my needs as God’s tool to strip away another layer of my pride, purifying me and making me holy, set apart for His purposes.
In the emptiness of my upturned hands may I find the fullness of God’s sanctifying work.
On Duty
Most people dread it: the jury summons. The innocuous-looking little postcard informs us of an impending impingement on our preferred rhythms of life.
I got mine on August 10th. I had been slated as a prospective juror for this week, September 12-16. I filled out my juror questionnaire and received a juror reporting number. And then, I waited.
I waited until last Saturday to find out whether I had to report on Monday. I was deferred, and instructed to call at 5pm on Monday to find out if I would report on Tuesday. I waited.
Calling in on Monday night, I was put on stand-by, instructed to call at (but not before) 9:30a on Tuesday morning to find out if I was needed by 10:15a in room 4117. I waited.
I drove part way to the courthouse Tuesday morning and waited in a coffee shop, so I’d be close by if asked to report. At 9:30a, I called the number reserved for stand-by jurors. I was told they still didn’t know… they’d call me in 15 minutes. So, I waited some more.
I spent a great deal of time waiting to hear whether I would play a role in meting out justice. And yet, this is a role I’m called to fill every day of my life.
He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the LORD require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?
–Micah 6:8 ESV
What the Lord requires of me. To do justice.
Justice —
that which is lawful, required; in accordance with a proper standard; doing what is right.
Not just lawful, more than that: doing what is right. And the standard for that isn’t my own. It’s God’s standard, because He is the God of justice (Isaiah 30:18).
Doing justice isn’t convenient. It costs something. In jury duty, it costs the juror the opportunity to earn their daily wages, or missing a child’s performance at school or athletic event. In the Christian life, the price can take many forms, financial or otherwise. As one who has been spared the wages of my sin, any cost seems too small. As long as I stop to think of it in those terms… His terms.
As I waited in the coffee shop, I was aware of a man who was clearly in need. His appearance revealed a need for money, but his behavior revealed an even greater need for companionship. He, too, was waiting. He was waiting to hear whether he’d be hired for a day labor job, and was eager to converse with anyone in the meantime. I am ashamed because I don’t know these things because I was willing to talk with him. I know them because I overheard his dialog with another latte-sipping, book-reading patron – one who was willing to do what I wasn’t.
I fell short of doing justice. I averted my eyes, my thoughts, when it was fully within my ability to meet his need by simply engaging with him. The cost to me was smaller than in almost any such situation: words and a smile. And yet I was still unwilling to make that simple sacrifice. I waited for my call to the Ada County Courthouse while I ignored the call to the next table.
I didn’t serve Ada County this week; my services were not required. Nor did I serve my God. And my services were very much required. My juror summons card now hangs on the bulletin board, the last thing I see as I walk out the door, sending me out to do justice every day.
One of my favorite organizations that addresses social justice: International Justice Mission
Braving the barn (a surprising lesson in friendship)
I love the statements in Proverbs: simple, true and packed with a punch, This one gave me some not-as-sweet food for thought:
Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. –Proverbs 14:4 ESV
Hear my confession (and contain your gasps, please): The coat closet, the cargo area of my car, and the utensil drawer in my kitchen are each a mess. They may be contained behind closet, car or cabinet doors, but they are messes nonetheless (and not the only ones). Read More