TheoTrek — A Journey with God in Discipleship
Love's Lowest Level
Psalm 146:5-10; Isaiah 35:1-10; Matthew 11:2-11
Central Baptist Church—Lowesville, VA
16 December 2007
We like to think big. We want super-sized meals, grandiose homes, large-screen TV’s, and big cars. We want life to run on the level of power, grandeur, and all the world calls great. The gospel just does not seem to fit with that mold. Can the meanest, lowest level of love’s expression be of any real significance? Can it really change the world?
CBF Global Missions seeks to make a difference among the most neglected. In many ways, that concept is what took us to Brasil as missionaries. We chose the challenge of equipping 5000 Baptists in a state of 10.5 million to reach the rest of the state for Christ Jesus. Along with teaching at the seminary and the seminary extension program, we found a group of 4.2 million with whom no evangelicals were working. They had been pretty much written off. Could two Americans make a difference among so many? God can.
John the Baptist’s quarters were dark, like the rest of Herod’s dungeon. It was a far cry from the banks of the Jordan, preaching to crowds in the open air. There wasn’t much to see or do. No TV, library, exercise equipment, or walks in the prison yard. There was no prison yard. There was nothing much to see or light by which to see it. Unlike most prisoners of the day who were held as a workforce in labor camps, John seems to have been kept in a holding area under close watch. He was held as one whose execution could become troublesome. Many prisoners so held eventually would die from disease, exposure, or malnutrition.
Afro-Brasilian Spiritism holds a dominant influence over the lives of the people. Sure, Brasil is reportedly 85% Roman Catholic, but 75% of the population is involved in various Spiritist practices. One often sees a blending of Catholicism and Spiritism. Many live their lives in fear and hopelessness, seeking in their religious practices a sense of control over their lives.
Imprisonment meant hopelessness. It was not a life. It was an existence awaiting little in terms of hope. John could have visitors, of course. He depended on them for nourishment beyond the meager prison rations and news of the outside world. In the off hours, though, despair hung like a fog in the damp, squelching hope and any sense of a meaningful future.
Deoclécio was imprisoned by gambling. He knew that gambling had taken his life captive and wanted release. When he came to Christ, he elected to redirect all the energy he had spent on tobacco and gambling to studying and teaching the Bible. He invited Chris to his home after class one night. They fired up the grill after Chris arrived at 11pm and began discussing theology and Deoclécio’s list of questions from his readings. Around sunrise, Chris begged for a chance to rest. “Before I knew Christ, I would have spent all this time gambling,” Deoclécio said. “I would awaken to wonder whether I had won or lost. Now, I want to invest the same amount of time in knowing Christ. In Him I know I awaken having won!”
John sat in the cell, reflecting over the past. He recalled the days of hope and expectancy as he called people to prepare for Messiah. Life in Herod’s dungeon seemed to have leached that hope and sense of expectancy. Herod had cast him in the dungeon to silence his critique of Herod’s lifestyle and choices. Now, it seemed, he would end his days without seeing the arrival of the messianic kingdom he had proclaimed. John yearned to see a change among his people, with the messianic reign bringing about a new life under God’s direct care.
A group of sociologists in Rio Grande do Sul wanted to see a change among their people. They wanted a different basis for society than what Hollywood promoted. They were distraught by the effects of the materialistic craze and moral chaos running rampant in society. They sought a new basis for rebuilding society. They led the people to go back to the heritage of the Gaúcho, seeking the best of that heritage as a foundation on which to build. They rescued the arts and dance heritage of the people, as well as the handcrafts and skills of the frontier cowboy lifestyle. The Traditionalist Gaúcho movement was born.
When despondency had become too great, John sent some of his visiting disciples to Jesus. He had endured enough of Herod’s hospitality. Having professed the imminence of Messiah’s reign, he was more than ready for Jesus to show his hand. “Go ask Jesus whether he is the one we have been awaiting or if we should sit around waiting for a different one.”
Sara left her husband when his drinking got out of hand. We met them at the Traditionalist Gaucho center. Once Paulo had imbibed too much, he would pigeonhole Chris on issues of church history, the Bible, and theology. We gave Paulo a gospel of John with the church address imprinted on the back before we left Brasil. That is how Sara found the church. Only problem is, she felt she had to give up traditionalism in order to live a life with Christ Jesus. Too many Christians told her that the church must become her new “club.” What about the friends she left behind? Who would tell them about the new hope that she had found in Christ?
The disciples made their way out of the dungeon to find Jesus teaching the people by the light of day. It was a stark contrast to their visit with John. From the hidden bowels of Herod’s dungeon away from light and hope, now they walked in the new reality of Jesus’ ministering to glaring needs pressing in from every side. It was like walking into Isaiah’s vision of the messianic reign made flesh. The blind were being given sight. The lame began to walk, and lepers were restored in health. The deaf began to hear, the dead were given life, and the poor were hearing good news. The contrast with John’s imprisonment and despair could not have been greater.
João was the building super next door to us, waiting on the tenants of the upper class apartments. They treated him like a slave. Economically speaking, he was, but he was still a human being who should have been treated with respect. I watched one family drive up and simply expect him to unload their groceries and take them upstairs. They gave him no thanks, not even the recognition given to an automated machine. Sadly, we were the only ones around who would treat João and his family as real people. Joãozinho, his son, came next door to ride bikes and play with Jonathan. At Christmas, Jonathan gave him a Bible and invited the family to church. Last we heard, Mom was in seminary, preparing herself as a missionary to her people.
John’s disciples asked Jesus John’s question. At least, they reported what John had told them to say. Jesus did not answer in words, but in action. Then again, action is what John was really seeking. Jesus reminded them of Isaiah’s vivid description of the Messianic reign. He reminded John that it was not a reign characterized by force, but through grace, mercy, healing, restoration, and love.
Juliana, one of Chris’ students, was the daughter of two Spiritist mediums. Her parents would reportedly contact the dead or lead people in sacrifice or other practices to solve their problems. Often enough, it was clear to Juliana that they played on the fear and insecurities of others for their own gain. Juliana wanted something different. She found the gospel of grace and redeeming love at the local Baptist church. In coming to Christ, she chose to prepare herself to share God’s love rather than take advantage of others’ needs.
Prison had shattered John’s understanding of Messiah. His personal concerns for rescue clouded his understanding of Isaiah’s vision. John thought in terms of the glories of rule, not recognizing that even Messiah would enter the fullness of the Messianic reign through death. Jesus’ answer would also shatter John’s perception of Messiah. This was a new understanding of a Messianic reign. It did not depend upon power, politics, and force. It did not depend upon questions of national independence and democratic freedoms. It released people on an individual level bring peace, hope, and release to those around them.
The Traditionalists knew about the gospel—sort of. They celebrated Christmas with a pageant. The characters were dressed in the garb of the Traditionalists, and the gifts of the magi reflected items important to Gaúcho tradition. The story was there, but not the understanding of its implications. At the end of the pageant, they played a song and a boy acted out the theme. “Why does Santa only come for the rich, and not the poor?” the boy asked in the song. “How will you respond to the poor little boy, who just wants a small gift from Santa on this Christmas celebration?” asked those putting on the pageant.
John waited for his disciples to report. He was hoping for something big. He wanted oppression to end immediately. He wanted new life for himself and the rest of the nation now. Deep down, he was looking for a political solution to the nation’s plight—to his own plight.
Deep down, Lu, the young lady who made our traditionalist outfits, was searching for a solution to the plight of her people—of her own plight. Lu wanted to help with our ministry among the Traditionalists. She was not a Christian. She claimed Catholicism and participated in Spiritism. Underneath it all, however, she knew that her people needed to know God. “If you are trying to learn about Traditionalism to teach my people about God, I will help you, because we need what you can teach us,” she said.
Jesus’ answer was not what John expected. Jesus focused God’s love and attention on an individual level. He made sure the disciples saw him express God’s love on its lowest level—the level of the nation’s greatest need. It was also the simplest level on which to bring about transformation and a new lease on life. If those to whom he ministered would simply carry on the same quality of love, it would revolutionize the entire world from the level of the most needy on up.
Many of Chris’ extension program students weren’t qualified for seminary. They loved the Lord and they loved their people, but they weren’t sure how to minister. Through Chris’ classes, they learned how to minister with what they did have, and they got hooked on serving God. We just got word that at least four of those extension program students are now in pastoral ministry, hoping to revolutionize the entire world by ministering to the most needy on up.
Paul reminds us that God chose the insignificant things in the world’s eyes as tools to make a real difference. John needed that reminder. God reached down to the lowest levels of human experience to demonstrate that it does not take great human achievement, position, status, or power to share the depths of his love. We may not all experience personal release from our own prisons. True release, however, is when we begin applying God’s to the lowest level of greatest need around us. We become great in His kingdom by loving and serving those on the lowest level with the full depth of God’s love. Are we ready to live according to level of God’s love for all?