Affirming the Infirm

I get alot of affirmation from my friends.

It seems many people enjoy listening to me talk about God and about faith. It seems that people feel edified when around me. In another season of my life I would have denied this were even possible, let alone true. But that season has passed. If I lift people up, praise God, for that desire has always been at the very center of my heart.

But it occurred to me yesterday, with a somewhat discouraging flavor, that I do not evangelize, so much as struggle publicly. Often, I feel I cannot speak with authority on spiritual things. I cannot shine as a beacon and say "Yes, this is the way you must go." Often it bothers me, because I feel useless. Someone needs help and a guide, some bit of strength in their life, and all I can offer is my own weakness. How helpful is that?

It seems to be though.

Many of my relationships, from my skewed perspective, feel one-sided to me. I feel as though I reap all the benefit, all the strength and affirmation, while at the same time giving nothing back. I humorously described myself to my roomate as being a black hole of spiritual energy, over which the rafters of the church groan from the crushing gravity of my despair. Haha...

Its not THAT bad.

Even IF that analogy were true, black holes DO vary in mass. Some float around in space with little matter around, just massive enough to form a singularity. Others form the centers of entire galaxies. Given the size of the Church and the scope of God's grace, I suspect that my problems are not quite enough to bring the entire structure crashing down into the unreachable darkness ;)

But I have decided to believe that it is NOT true.

It seems one need only look at the evidence. I have said before that the goodness I experience in my life, and most especially in my relationships, are windows onto the Goodness of Christ, from Whom all Good things come. So I return to my first paragraph:

I uplift people. Even though I often can't see it. How?

I wrote earlier, I struggle publicly rather than evangelize. But what is this evangelization? Teaching and preaching with authority? Certainly that is an aspect of it. The Church does it. But there is another aspect of it. For Christ did not come to earth only to preach, teach, and work a few miracles, only to flit back up to heaven and say "K guys, now y'all know better!"

He did all of these things, but it was not these things which were our salvation.

It was his Cross. His suffering and death. It was the moment when he ceased to teach with his voice and his authority and stepped down into the darkest place of our existence, our suffering, our pain, our misery, our death, even our despair, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabbacthani?"

This is our salvation. The moment of grace. Not when he stood in the synagogue, but when he hung broken on the Tree, reckoned a sinner by all. Appearing no different, no better, no more accomplished than the very theives he hung beside.

This is the office of a Christian: there is a time to preach, and a time to suffer along side. A time for com-passion. To suffer with.

Scripture tells us this about Christ: Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered. And having been made perfect, He became to all those who obey Him the source of eternal salvation. (Heb 5:8-9)

Christ, Him who was without sin, was made perfect by his suffering!

And so shall I be. In my ignorance, I could not see it: I thought the idea of "struggling publicly" was somehow less than my duty and calling as a Christian. That better was expected of me, true evangelism, more authority, more confidence.

More arrogance??

Time and time again, when I stand in the presence of my struggling friends, I am brought to my knees by my own struggle, and all I have to offer them is my own weakness.

My compassion.

There was once a man who thought about this too. He talked with Jesus about it. Here's what Jesus had to say: "My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness."

Here's how the man responded: "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." His name is Paul, and it was in this manner that he basically built the church among the Gentiles. Thats a tall order.

St. Paul wasn't afraid to be open about his weakness. He entertained no notions of superiority. He struggled like everyone else, and told pretty much every church he wrote to that he did.

He struggled publicly. And look at the grace.

Therefore, I too, will glory in my weakness, the the power of Christ may rest in me as well. It seems to have been already, according to everyone around me.

Now I just have to start glorying in it ;)