Ministry in the Trenches

Yesterday was hard.

It wasn't worship or preaching that was hard. Preaching just makes me tired. It wasn't being the target for water balloons to raise money to help Chad go to Mali with the Peace Corps that was difficult. That made me happy. It wasn't even missing lunch. That made me hungry.

Being helpless. That's what was hard.

Ministry is a call to DO SOMETHING for God's sake.

It is great to do something. Very rewarding. Action and service. We are the hands and feet of Jesus. Love is a verb!

Failing to protect and provide for a couple kids I know is painful. Leaving them in a situation that isn't quite criminal, but that is far from nurturing and whole is migraine inducing. Watching them do the best they can with so few resources and so few advocates is simply heart-wrenching.

So where's the gospel in this story? Where is the One who came to set the prisoner free? To give release to the captives?

Banging Head Against Wall. That doesn't feel so much like ministry. Choosing the better of two bad options. That doesn't feel like victory. Hands Tied. That doesn't feel like freedom.

I don't know how social workers do this every day. Child after child. Desperate situation after desperate situation. How did Mother Theresa keep stepping into the abyss of death and never lose her faith in new life?

How does God bear this world's brokenness?

Maybe I am only capable of suburban, middle-class, civic Christianity...in which feeling good is god* enough? (*yes. god.) A Christianity in which poverty is held at bay and real suffering is kept at a distance? A Christianity in which I am a tourist into those dark places where humanity reeks of body odor and broken spirits?

It's my helplessness that is so hard to handle. Or is it my fear that God is the helpless One?

What would it mean to worship a God who is all-loving, but, in honor of human freedom, has abdicated omnipotence?

Prayer: In our helplessness, let us weep together, God. Into my profound impotence, remind me of your power. In the middle of this hopelessness, give me a hand to hold onto. Amen.