If we truly believe that God has poured out His goodness upon us in these new days, then we cannot help but be saddened by the manifestations of superficiality we see around us. How long will we remain heedless of the Word’s good pleasure, which is that we know ourselves to be “unprofitable servants” (Luke 17:10)? Must I be specific? I do not believe that naming names or pointing to particulars would be of any use here. It might be seen as arrogance, and I have no desire to wound anyone or to place myself above another. My only desire is that each of us might be reconciled to the image of a God who humbled Himself to the point of being crushed by the very people He came to save.
The Ladder of His Humility
Did the cry of the Lord, “I am gentle and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29), ever reach the ears of those who crushed Him? Did they presume upon His forgiveness and mercy? I do not know. What I do know is that He, being gentle and merciful, was crushed to the very end. And I know that He decreed we should follow in His footsteps, in a world that still wishes to crush Him within us. We know that in His brokenness, He was able to return the entire cosmos to His Father. His being crushed became the very ladder of our return. This is the wonder of God in the age of man.
Do I watch people? I am not blind. And though a saying warns, “Whoever watches people dies of worry,” I am not convinced that I will perish from the sorrow of what strikes my eyes. I am certain that the causes of my own mortality are sufficient, without God needing to lend me reasons from the failings of others. Yet, even with this certainty, I love my brothers and wish for them to live, every single one of them. I say this with sincerity. I write it openly, with an ink not purchased from a shop, but given freely. Some of these very brothers taught me what I know, indeed, everything I know. And they taught me to offer their wisdom with a sincere and gentle love.
A Faith Lived in Parallel
And so, I see. I see some who are learned, yet their conduct makes them seem as if they know nothing at all. Where did they learn that knowledge is something that does not touch our entire life, yes, all of it? The Word of God never separated knowledge from life, so where did they learn that knowledge and life are two parallel lines that never meet? In what book do they read this? Am I judging? No, I am asking.
I see some who have committed themselves to a kind of knowledge that wounds the Word, and they have excelled in it. If you were to ask them about what is seen in them, I do not know what their reply would be. Perhaps they have their justifications.
Do I confess my own faults? I wish to. But I fear adding to my failings another: the failure of being a reason for the Word to be rejected. Do I act? I wish to. Do I wait to be pushed? It is a fault in me to wait for a push toward speaking the truth. O my God, I need Your help at all times. “Lord, You know all things.” You wanted us to strive always to extend Your salvation in the world, especially to those of the household first. You showed us that this is the commitment You desire from us. You did not ask for the impossible. You loved us to the end and asked only that if we see one of Your beloved in need of a reminder, we should remind them. And You drew for us the path of this reminder: that we must become an icon of what we say, that is, of what You said. This gives us the hope that we might dance with joy in the Kingdom of the living God, the God who is present and who is to come. We will dance, we and all who remember that You have loved us.
The Swift Feet of Sin
Should I walk through the streets of men, shouting at the top of my lungs, “I am an unprofitable servant”? I do not think this would be useful. What is useful is to dwell in the high words of God, as if, when they came forth from His mouth, there was no one else on earth but me. The love I am called to practice does not ask about human merit. And if I know this does not permit any person, knowing he is unworthy, to demand love, my role is to remember that there is no good in me, so that perhaps, he too may remember.
The more I take the Lord’s words personally, the louder my inner voice becomes. And every time Jesus is obeyed, a patch of darkness is illuminated.
What do I see? I have no need to disclose it. There are many things, great and small, that I see strutting about, wounding my eyes. I do not wish to intrude upon anyone’s sight. But there are others, and what is seen wounds their eyes and ears as well. I hear some, here and there, speaking. They share their sorrow, their regret. And together, they wait for the Lord to lavish upon His Church what He desires for His Church.
How strange is the affair of sin! How strange that news of it travels so far, so quickly. How is it that odious words travel with such speed, a speed unmatched by other words, words concerning the life of righteousness? Sin, it seems, has swift and youthful feet. Oh, the pain of those who love the truth! How can we turn away their dismay? What can we say to them, and to others whose branches are still tender? How do we keep the branch from snapping? Every sin is a declaration of rebellion against God’s truth, an announcement, usually intentional, that God is not strong enough to tame us. Is there any sin on earth greater than this: that God is unable to tame us?
A World Made Possible
How, then, does righteousness walk? How does it run? How do we all remember that we are unprofitable servants? How does God come to reign in every street, every alley, every home, in every mouth, every eye, and every ear? I do not love mere imaginings. But I pray that our world will strive to renew itself, that is, to come to believe that God is truly here. A world where no one, absolutely no one, hides the truth that “we are unprofitable servants.” A world that believes the Lord’s words were spoken to be obeyed, for His good pleasure. A world where the obedient feel a responsibility for the Lord’s continued presence among them. A world that yearns for heaven to rejoice. A world that knows heaven rejoices over one sinner who repents, and cares for no other joy. A world that believes people were created for one another, to help one another cause heaven to rejoice over them. A world not concerned with itself, but with God. That God may rejoice. This is a possible world. Despite all that is seen and unseen, it is a possible world.
Thank God that I am not blind. This allows me to hope that I will see the Word walking on our roads. Our hope must remain firm that God created our eyes so that we might see Him here, within us. That we might please Him, and rejoice in His sovereignty alone. Yes, only in that.
