taking a hike

I may have been born in the wrong country. I’m indifferent to cars, motorcycles, snowmobiles, four-wheelers, boats, all the loud, powerful machines that prove manhood in America. I prefer transportation fueled by my own muscles: walking, running, paddling, biking.

I think one reason is that getting around under my own power is a celebration of capability - I can. I’m not intimidated by the miles, or the exertion. I feel good when I do it. Another reason is that instead of flying by my community, I get to see and experience it. I encounter people and can say hi or chat. I notice the window-boxes and feel the weather. I can take a photo if I want.

That’s why, for me, walking through life as a picture of my faith journey has always resonated. Even more so when I read the Apostle John’s second letter. He writes (v4-6) “It has given me great joy to find some of your children walking in the truth, just as the Father commanded us. I ask that we love one another. And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love.”

John describes the kind of walk I’m supposed to take, one defined by truth, made in obedience to the command to love. My walk has a purpose. Whenever or wherever I go, there are two pieces of gear I take with me that prepare me for any contingency or opportunity: truth and love.

Why those two? John writes this letter to advise on what to do about deceivers who do not acknowledge the divinity and lordship of Jesus - plenty of those around these days. I carry truth with me to combat the lies. I take along love so that my words will be helpful, and my actions will too.

A walk with a purpose and destination is a journey, and it’s best to be well equipped. With truth and love I should be ready for my faith journey. Those are tools I need to hone.

Seeing People

"I myself am satisfied about you, my brothers, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge and able to instruct one another." That's what Paul says to his readers in Romans 15:14. It makes me think, as I often do, how unusual Paul was.

When it comes to church members (and I guess coworkers and sometimes family and friends) I'm seldom satisfied that my brothers are full of goodness. I tend to see their lack of punctuality, their procrastination, their inability to keep promises, and all of their other flaws, great and small, as evidence that they're nowhere near as good as they should be.

I don't give them much props on being filled with all knowledge either. In fact, I too often have the arrogant but probably common belief that people are clueless. It's easy to think if I want something done right I need to do it myself.

But Paul had been working with these people intensely, over a period of time, with one single goal: to work himself out of a job. He didn't want to be stuck nursing them along for the rest of his life. He wanted to get on to the next place, get started with the next church plant. He says so in verse 20, where he states his ambition as preaching the gospel where Christ has not already been named.

To do that, Paul mentored church leaders who would take care of this fledgling flock when he left, and members to care for one another. And he's saying here that his work is done.

Maybe that's the most unusual thing, the ease with which he lets go. I commanded a battalion for a few years, then passed the guidon to a new commander. I walked away full of regret, sorry to be leaving and certain the new guy was going to mess it up. I avoided my old battalion for a long time because it was like seeing someone date my girlfriend.

The difference between me and Paul: I was working for myself. He was working for the Lord, and had no other ambition. He was driven to build not his own empire but Christ's kingdom. And he was blessed to see people through Christ's eyes. 

I'm working on that.