Love

Jobs, Networking, and the Church

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So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. See with what large letters I am writing to you with my own hand.
—Galatians 6:10-11

Regular readers of Cerulean Sanctum know that I write pointed posts about the need for Christians to help each other, especially when it comes to finding a good job.

Tim Challies put out a call for a job for his brother, Andrew, who has a mild form of autism called Asperger’s Syndrome. Tim’s brother lives in the Chattanooga, TN, area and would like to find clerical or data entry positions. Details can be found at Challies.com.

I’ve never been one to understand the odd way we American Christians view the unemployed. I remember sharing with a group of men at a wealthy church my wife and I were visiting (with hopes of possibly joining) that I had lost my job and was looking for work. They stared me over for a few moments, then returned to chit-chatting, literally turning their backs on me as if I were no longer there. I will never forget that horrid sensation that I had suddenly become a non-entity to them.

Many people can tell these kinds of awful stories. In truth, those stories should never occur within the Body of Christ. When the Lord says that we are to love Him and love our neighbor as ourselves, there can be no truer love for a brother or sister in Christ than to help be their network when they are looking for a job.

After Pentecost, the first thing the nascent Church did was ensure that no one among them lacked for basic physical needs. As far as I see it, no need could be more basic than to have a decent job.

Which is why I’m continually perplexed at the American Church’s slighting of the unemployed. I’ve written many times here that we’re under this cursed Charlie Brown and Linus offer some useless helpbootstrapping nonsense that says that “God helps those who help themselves.” That’s the antithesis of the communion of saints, though.

If anything, the continued presence of the unemployed within our congregations is a damning statement about our inability to walk beside our brethren in their time of need. One brother (who recently did find work after nearly a year of searching) asked me for advice on his search. I advised him to ask the church leadership for permission to stand up before the congregation and discuss his need for work. He told me that if he asked for employment in front of his congregation, dozens of others would clamor to make the same request. To which I said, “So? Isn’t that supposed to be the way the Body functions?”

Well, isn’t it?

I’m concerned about the economic state of North America. Disparities between the rich and poor are growing, with the middle class sliding down the pay scale. I believe we’re on shaky ground, shakier as the subprime mortgage fiasco ripples out to touch all parts of our economy. Signs are there for another recession. I also believe we’re in a boom and bust cycle that will have longer busts and shorter booms as time goes on. You think the last recession was bad? Just wait.

If we’re not there for each other, working hard to meet the job needs of our fellow believers (especially those in our local congregations), aren’t we rejecting one of God’s major reasons for the Church to exist?

Honestly, I get really tired of witnessing the following:

If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?
—James 2:15-16

Indeed, what good is that?

I get labeled as a dour guy sometimes. My problem as I see it is that I am hopeful that we’ll live up to our high calling. That we seem to have so little care to live up to that calling makes me sad. Yes, it’s a high calling, but it’s not an impossible one. Yet we act as if someone’s unemployment is as unmanageable as a tornado.

How big is your God? Mine’s pretty blasted enormous! And that universe-eclipsing Lord we serve is looking for people who believe He can rip up the mountains and toss them into the sea! A job? How hard is that to get?

Well, it may be very hard if no one cares to use the contacts and networks we’ve all built to guide someone to gainful employment. We can bury that network in the ground. We can say that we’re just too busy to get involved. But if that’s our attitude, then we shouldn’t be surprised when the Lord comes back and isn’t totally pleased with how we’ve managed the resources He gave us.

We all know we need to improve our community in our churches. Making sure we help people find work is one of the keys to that better community. Because if we in our plenty won’t actively labor to help those searching for jobs, who will help us when we’re the ones laid off?

Lessons from a Dream Car

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Click for a larger view of this DB7 Vantage Volante

Boys and girls, that’s yours truly grinning madly from the cockpit of an Aston Martin DB7 Vantage Volante. Yeah, that’s right: the car James Bond drives. All 12 cylinders of it.

As for Dan Edelen, he drives a 1993 Mazda B2600 4×4 pickup. To put this all in perspective, I’d be able to purchase a dozen of my fully-loaded $14,900 pickup new for what this lone Vantage cost new. (I’ll let y’all do the math. Yep, it’s a huge number.)

And it would be worth every dime—at least to me it would.

I’m not a car buff. Last week, a mechanic botched tightening the oil plug on my wife’s car and we lost most of the oil out of the darned thing. I had to call my neighbor over to ask him if he could help. In short, cars are akin to Chinese puzzle boxes to me.

I can talk car models…some. I can name all the manufacturers and most of the models, but that’s memory folks, not a love for cars. I hang with other guys and they start talking compression ratios and all that other stuff, and I’m lost. They’ll discuss one trick ride after another, and all I can mumble in response is “I’m crazy about Aston Martins.” Most of the time, the Mustang and Charger folks have no idea what I’m talking about.

I think the Astons possess a combination of elegance and raw power that just grabs me. The DB7 is universally considered by auto experts to be one of the most beautiful cars ever built. Pair that with the sensation of riding in a leather-seated cannonball, and perhaps you’ll understand the appeal.

Aston Martins are rare in this country. Only 19 states have a dealership. (Ohio’s is in Dublin, headquarters of Wendy’s.) Needless to say, I’ve never seen an Aston in person. I’ve been told that even at international auto shows they keep them behind glass—look but don’t touch.

My wife and I have been part of a small group for about six years. That’s where I met Tom. Now Tom’s a British car buff and drives a Lotus himself (and yes, he’s taken me for a spin in it), but I don’t think even he connected with my fascination with Aston Martin.

But this last Friday, on a picture perfect day, Tom dropped me a morning e-mail telling me to expect to see a DB7 at small group that evening.

I had to read the e-mail about five times. An Aston Martin in our fair city? Never. How would it be possible?

I spent all day Friday with goosebumps waiting…waiting.

When we pulled in that evening, there it sat, smiling at me with that gorgeous Aston grin. Solid. Confident. Refined. Flawless. Gleaming. And a Volante (convertible) to boot!

Words can’t describe how amazing this car is. It’s one of the few things I’ve ever experienced that lived up to the hype.

We all just stared at this incredible car until Tom finally said to me, “Well…?”

And we were off.

There’s something about being in a car that weighs nearly 4200 lbs with a top speed of 185 mph, 435 hp and a mind-blowing 410 ft/lbs of torque that verges on ecstacy. Tom floored it going up the entrance ramp to the major highway nearby, and I felt as if my ribcage was going to implode from the acceleration. We blew past a BMW 650i convertible and it boggled my mind that we were in a car that cost twice as much as that wickedly expensive BMW. (I think I even taunted the BMW’s driver—just a little.)

Tom and I talked (and used a normal speaking voice, even in a convertible—amazing) and he told me he’d borrowed the car from a former law partner. Ralph had only received the car a few weeks before.

Now the part about this that tore me up came when I asked Tom, “Did you do all this just for me?” He looked me in the eye, and with a big grin on his face, simply said, “Yes.” I had to glance away to the setting sun so he wouldn’t catch my eyes welling with tears.

That’s lesson one.

Of course, most of the folks at the small group wanted a ride, including my wife. With a gleaming smile, she said she needed to understand me just a little bit more, and what better way than to ride in one of those “Aston Martin cars you always talk about.” She jumped in the passenger seat and Tom came round to drive. I said to them both, “Now I’m doubly jealous.” At this Tom sauntered over to me and dangled the key. “Drive,” he said.

Now there’s something about me you all need to know. I do an excellent job of seeing all the things that could possibly go right and wrong in life. Sadly, I do a better job envisioning the wrong portion of that equation. In that second, my heart just about stopped when I pondered the possibilities: a rock tossed up by a truck cracks the windshield, my foot jams between the brake and the accelerator and it’s Audi 5000 time, or a car of joyriding teens making their way to the high school nearby gets caught up in the joyriding and misses a stop sign, WHAM, right into a British supercar that costs as much as a house. All those scenarios crashed in my brain.

It’s not my car. It’s not even Tom’s car. Our friendship would never be the same if anything happened to the DB7. I’d never live it down if something happened.

With my adrenal glands pumping out enough juice to wire an elephant, I waved him off and watched him drive away with my wife.

On walking back to the house, my heart still fluttering, I was greeted by the rest of the small group. “Tom offered to let me drive,” I said, “but I just couldn’t.” A cadre of incredulous faces greeted me. I asked, “I’m a moron, aren’t I?” “Yes” was the group consensus.

But it wasn’t right. It was too much responsibility! I have enough of a dilemma driving a friend’s car, but a friend of a friend’s? A plethora of gruesome possibilities for error and damage rose up again. Bankruptcy! Debtors’ prison! The worst possible outcome of a Dickens novel! Little Nell! Oh no, Little Nell!

How could I possibly handle it?

Did I mention this car costs as much as a nice house?

Yet I walked down to the curb and stood there, sweating. A few minutes later, they returned, and I nervously waved Tom out of the driver’s seat and hopped in. Carefully, I took my dream car, my gorgeous wife at my side, for a very short spin within the subdivision. All told, I think we drove less than a mile.

But that was enough for lesson number two.

Now what does it all mean?

I think that a lot of us don’t understand what Christ has done for us. What a friend we have in Jesus! My friend Tom heard that his former partner had just bought an Aston Martin and I’m sure he thought right away, “Dan would love this.”

God the Father looks at you, His child, and says, “Oh, you are so going to love what I have in store for you.”

Who here isn’t crying with joy? Do we know how much we are loved? The cattle on a thousand hills! The empowering of the Holy Spirit! Eternal life purchased by the blood of the One who loves us more than anything!

But some of us get handed the keys of that Kingdom and we back off. It’s too much. Too many things might go wrong! How can we handle the responsibility?

So we shrink away and miss grabbing onto that Kingdom of unrelenting joy and going to the unimaginable places the King intended us to go.

Something about me grew last Friday. Because of an amazing car. Because that car stood proxy for something priceless. More than anything, it stood for someone who loved me enough to go to extraordinary lengths to fill my life with joy. More than anything, it stood for the willingness of that someone to trust me to drive what he’d labored to secure for me.

Do you get it?

Now take the keys and drive.

 

(Thanks, Tom. You’re a true friend who loves at all times. Thanks Ralph, for making one dreamer’s dream come true. And to Eric for the nicely Aston Martin-ized Cerulean Sanctum banner modification.)

Two Halves of the Whole Gospel

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Goin' nowhere fastDo you sometimes feel like we’re not hearing the whole Gospel? Hang around the Godblogosphere long enough and you get the eerie feeling that no one truly knows what the whole Gospel entails.

And it’s not just the Godblogosphere. I suspect that many of our churches can’t articulate the entirety of the Gospel.

As I see it, we’ve made this mistake of viewing the whole Gospel as two halves. The mistake—one of typical human nature— is to wrap the entirety of our brains around the one half that resonates with us the most, then act as if the other half doesn’t exist.

If we must delineate the error of the two halves, it’s best to look at the one passage of Scripture that defines those halves. We find both in Ephesians 2:8-10.

Half A:

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.
—Ephesians 2:8-9

Half B:

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
—Ephesians 2:10

Those who cling to Half A are the folks I’ll call the Elect. They obsess about doctrine, detest even a whiff of works righteousness, and are enormously concerned with getting people saved. They got their marching orders at the Reformation and consider it the high point in modern history. And heaven help anyone who’s not in total agreement with them.

Those who adhere to Half B are the folks I’ll call the Fieldworkers. They obsess about  helping those in need, detest the hypocrisy of not walking the talk, and are enormously concerned with bettering the lives of everyone around them. They can’t point to any one point in time for their marching orders,  but earnestly believe that we need a new Reformation. And heaven help anyone who’s not in total agreement with them.

The problem with the Elect and the Fieldworkers is that they are so focused on their half of the whole Gospel, they simply can’t bring themselves to understand the other half. The blinders are on so tight that neither group  can even acknowledge the other side’s main propositions are just as Scriptural as theirs.

The Elect easily trash the loose theology of the Fieldworkers. The Fieldworkers quickly note the clean, uncalloused hands of the Elect. To the Elect, the Fieldworkers are false teachers and heretics. To the Fieldworkers, the Elect are uncaring, self-absorbed Pharisees. Both sides point to the other and claim, “You’re not living the Gospel. I doubt you’re truly saved!”

And you know what? On that claim, both sides may actually be right!

Worrying about how you come to Christ is great, but Elect, what are you supposed to do with the sixty or so years of discipleship you have staring you in the face afterwards? Worrying about the needy is great, but Fieldworkers, how do you receive the heart of God to do so if you can’t articulate how to know God at all?

The whole Gospel contains both the power to raise the dead in spirit to spiritual life in the name of Jesus AND the power to tenderize the human heart toward the service of others in the name of Jesus.

What baffles me is why this is so hard to understand.

Why do we slice the Gospel in half then whine about the half we don’t like? Why the venom between the Elect and the Fieldworkers? Why?

The whole Gospel is the whole Gospel. If we’re not concerned with seeing people saved through hearing the message of salvation, maintaining the integrity of our doctrine, and preaching that we can’t earn our way to heaven, then we’re blowing it. If we’re not concerned about taking care of those in need, living out the love of Christ in practical ways, and fighting for the betterment of everyone we meet, then we’re blowing it.

Please Church, it’s time to believe and live the whole Gospel!