Wandering Away

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Our neighbors had a 17-year-old dog, Hickory. I say had because while they were on vacation and the dog was being cared for at home by others, Hickory wandered off and has not been seen since.

It’s common for sick and dying animals to wander away. They separate themselves from their normal world and find a quiet place elsewhere to lay down and die. We all suspect that’s just what Hickory did.

While it’s a sad thing to lose a beloved pet that way, it’s even more heartrending when a person wanders off to die. When people wander away, it’s not usually to due to a terminal illness or decrepitude. Instead, they wander off to die emotionally or spiritually.

I’m sure if God gave me eyes to see the numbers of people I’ve encountered in my life who have wandered away from Him, I’d be staggered. As it is, I already know too many.  I’m sure you do , too. (If not, consider reading this past post and follow the main link in it to see if your memory gets a refresher.)

Jesus had this to say:

What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?
—Luke 15:4

I’ll go even farther than Jesus does with his illustration, which is about seeking the unsaved, and say that while a lost sinner who remains lost is a tragedy, nearly as bad is a believer who wanders away.

And what is our responsibility to those nameless people in our churches every Sunday who are there for a few months and then are gone, never to be seen again? What is their story? Do we even care to know it? Perhaps if we had, they would not have wandered away.

We live in a world that would prefer that the weak, the disabled, the stunned, and the emotionally shattered would just wander away and die like some animal on its last legs. Better that they do it out of sight than we have to bear with their prolonged downhill slide.

Yet it was those very people, the ones the Romans (who valued youth and virility) ignored and left to die, who were cared for by the early Church. Most historians agree that the exponential growth of the early Church in Rome came because it refused to let the marginalized and weak go ignored in their time of need.

Consider the Best Picture winner of 1978, The Deer Hunter (Spoiler Alert!):

Nick, Mike, and Steven are close friends from a steel town in Pennsylvania. All three ship off to fight in Vietnam, with all three captured and tortured by the Viet Cong. The method of psychological torture? All three are forced to play Russian roulette for their VC captors. When the trio create an opportunity to escape, only Nick is able to board the rescue ‘copter, with Mike and Steven left behind. In the attempt, Steven’s legs are badly damaged. The enemy on their tails, Mike manages to carry Steven to safety in friendly territory. Nick, meanwhile, vanishes.

At war’s end, Steven winds up in a home for disabled vets. Mike wanders the seedier side of Saigon and glimpses Nick in the gallery of a gambling hall where people play Russian roulette for money. The two don’t meet.

Eventually, Mike returns home. He reunites with Steven, only to hear that Nick has been sending Steven huge amounts of money. Mike knows how. Desperate to save his friend, he returns to the gambling hall where Nick is playing Russian roulette. To speak with Nick and convince him to come home, Mike must play Russian roulette too.

I’ll leave the ending for you to see.

Mike wouldn’t let Nick wander away. He risked his life just to speak with his friend, The Deer Hunterwho had, by then, been reduced to a shell by his handlers and the psychological torment he’d endured.

If anyone in this world is equipped to go into the hellholes of life and reach those who have wandered away, it’s the Christian.

Yet what is the answer most often given by Christians to the question Why do other people wander away? I know I have heard the most common answer more often than I can count: “Because their faith is weak.”

It’s a simple enough answer, isn’t it? The only problem is that it’s a simplistic answer, the kind that bears little of the humility of genuine Christian love and more of spiritual pride. It’s the answer of dispassionate church boards, elders who only love status, distracted church members, and tired pastors who long ago stopped caring.

In the Kingdom of God, what is true to the heart of the Lord runs counter to conventional wisdom and simplistic answers. When posed with the same question of why other people wander away, the true Christian responds not only in humility, but also with an answer that begs a deeper question: “Because my faith is weak.”

See, anyone can rationalize why other people fail, leaving them to wander away unmissed, but it takes someone who believes in a big God to put a figurative gun to the head to ensure one of God’s lost sheep doesn’t wander away to die.

Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.
—John 15:13

 

 

 

 

 

 


How You Can Support Cerulean Sanctum

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Dan Edelen thanks you for your support!Cerulean Sanctum exists as a help for Christians who are seeking to experience the 1st century Church in 21st century America. From its inception in September of 2003, this blog has provided thousands of readers with support for their walk with Christ, comforting words in tough times, challenging essays on issues facing the American Church, and answers to difficult questions few are willing to ask. The number of Christian blogs today is an order of magnitude larger than when Cerulean Sanctum began, yet many blog readers continue to come here to find content rarely discussed elsewhere.

One of the unique aspects of Cerulean Sanctum is the readership. People from nearly every denomination in Christendom read this blog. Because the readers demand more than easy answers and bring a wealth of experience to every comment they leave, the discourse here remains unusual, insightful, high quality, and civil. The community of readers at Cerulean Sanctum is one of the best out there. Readers bless each other and bless me. I even have a few readers who have been with me since this blog’s inception. Whether a recent drop-in or a veteran of the dialog here, I thank you.

Over the years, I have received many private e-mails from grateful readers who inquired how they could support this blog financially. I have always thanked them for their offer, but requested instead that they use their gift to help someone in their local body of believers who is hurting. If you’ve read some of the posts here, you well know my views on this issue.

Today’s post exists because this past year has been a difficult one for my family and me. Myriad challenges continue to rise up, including ones I could never have anticipated. But God is faithful and good. I’ve considered my options and discussed them with some of my faithful readers. They all agree on the course of action I’m taking.

At the top of the blog you’ll see a tab labeled “Support Cerulean Sanctum.” If you click on the tab you’ll now have the option to financially support the writing that makes Cerulean Sanctum what it is. If you’ve been blessed by the content of this blog or have wanted to support it financially in the past, I’m making that option available to you as of today.

Thank you. I can’t tell you how much your support means to my family and me.

Most of all, I ask for your continued prayers. My family has been through a series of ordeals in the last few months and the end is not yet in sight. I know that many others are struggling in these times, too. If you have a prayer request you wish to share, please leave it in the comment section of this post or e-mail me. I pray for every person who writes me with a need.

I’ve written dozens of posts on how we in the Body need to support each other. I think the time is near when we’ll have to lean on each other like never before. I hope and pray that Cerulean Sanctum will continue to be a blessing to you and a place where you can find deeper truths in Christ to meet the challenges of days to come.

Blessings,

Dan Edelen

The Medium of True Blessing

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The medium is the message.

Marshall McLuhan

Times have been rough here of late. When the homefront reels under attack and the newspaper screams out worrying headlines, sometimes it’s all one can do to get out of bed.

Last Sunday in church, our pastor spoke on entering God’s rest. That’s a difficult message to hear right now. I’m working 60-hour weeks and my family faces some tough expenditures in light of recent illnesses. Even with the private health insurance we carry, the costs will be considerable. Finding rest when that “final straw” may lurk in each new day proves easier said than done.

Amid one of the most difficult weeks of my life, I noticed that a back tire on our car was badly out of balance. After yet another visit to the doctor, I tried to squeeze in a free tire balancing at the store that sold us the tires. Free.

Sitting in the waiting room at the tire store, I watched the clock tick and wondered how we would live in the light of illness. God, what does this mean for us? How will we go on?

When the hands of the clock clicked past a few too many minutes, I investigated and found three mechanics huddled around our car. Then came the dire words: “Sir, there’s a problem.”

That problem amounted to $850 worth of repairs, not including two new tires. Hadn’t I come in for a free tire balancing? My wife and I walked out of the store, estimate in hand, stunned. We drove off in our wounded car, wondering how we could possibly pay for this pressing repair.

So I sat in church that last Sunday with the wheels coming off of life, no rest in sight.

After the service, I walked up to a man in my church whom I respect for his spiritual insights and his nearly thirty years experience in the car care field. He’s retired from the car repair business now, but he knows far more than I can ever hope to know. I asked what he thought I should do. He said he’d call a few people.

The next day, he knocks on our door. He had to run an errand in another part of the city and wanted to take our car to some folks he knows.

That night, he returns with our car. His people had taken care of the $850 problem and the tires. When I asked him how much I owed him, he said, “Don’t worry about that. I took care of it.”

Joe Carter at the Evangelical Outpost asked this question this week:

If the medium affects the message, how will the Christian message be affected by the new media?

When I reflect on my life, I can’t remember many sermons that stick out. Even the words of my favorites hymns don’t always surface in memory when I need them. Gustave Doré - 'The Arrival of the Good Samaritan at the Inn'I can’t remember more than hazy concepts from the blogs I’ve visited. Viral videos? Web 2.0? Dancing 3-D holograms? Heck, I can’t even tell you the movies I’ve seen in the theater in the last five years.

But I can vividly recall every single time when life beat me up and left me for dead by the side of the road and someone in the name of Jesus took me up, cleansed and bound my wounds with his or her own hands, and made certain I was cared for.

The medium of the Christian message is you and it’s me. It’s the cup we hand in person to the parched and thirsty soul.

Fifty years from now, no one will remember the name of that blogger, the genius behind that YouTube video, the author of the Web 2.0 site. Nor will we remember what all the hoopla was about.

What we will remember are those people who were there for us in tough times. Those people who invested their lives in ours by showing up on our doorstep in our bleakest hour. Those people who took the time to be Jesus for us when we needed Jesus the most.

Because 2,000 years later we still tell of the Good Samaritan. May his message—and his medium—always be our example.