Guest commentary by Sada Andrews
“It’s a good calling, then, to speak a better story. How brightly a better story shines. How easily the world looks to it in wonder. How grateful we are to hear these stories, and how happy it makes us to repeat them.” – Donald Miller, “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”
I’ve been in Greece the past few weeks with an organization helping refugees arriving by boat from Turkey, but my role in this crisis is more than providing practical relief to people in need; it is to speak a better story. To tell the truth about what I’ve seen and heard. To speak against the lies that lead us toward fear.
My constant challenge is to view the current events and the people involved from a “big K” Kingdom perspective, not a “small k” kingdom perspective. The Kingdom of God over the kingdoms of earth.
Paris? A (small k) kingdom perspective tells us to fear. We fear our neighbor. We fear insecurity. We fear a loss of possessions, privilege, even life. The result of fear is that we disobey God and put our faith in things that do not deserve them. We watch the news hoping to find either something that makes us exceptional and immune from danger, or something that will protect us from it. We trust pundits to tell us what to think and do. We trust our military strength to protect us. We trust in our own righteousness as individuals and as a nation. We protect ourselves at any cost, even if it means disobeying God’s commandment to love our neighbor. Did we forget that when Jesus answered the question of “Who is my neighbor?” he told the story of a Samaritan, the religious rival of the Jews?
Fear tells us that to be safe, we should paint the stranger with a broad stroke as an enemy to be feared and not a potential ally in peace. The results of this are neither security nor peace, but prolonged resentment and mistrust. The truth is that it’s complicated, and I lament our collective loss of appetite for complexity that is required to understand these issues and the people affected by them. Love requires a long discipline.
A (big K) Kingdom perspective tells us to be disciplined in seeking truth and speaking truth. We resist the lies that others are inhuman or irredeemable. We defend the weak. We wash feet. We pray for our enemies. We do this at any cost because we trust in God’s Kingdom economy and that God can use our small acts of faithfulness to move mountains.
A Kingdom perspective tells us to love. To act as faithful stewards and citizens of our societies. To love our enemies and see everyone as redeemable through Christ. Paul’s job before becoming an apostle to the Gentiles? Killing Christians. What if Ananias, in justifiable fear, refused to go to Paul to heal him from his blindness?
We cannot fear and love our neighbor at the same time; we must choose.
A Kingdom perspective tells us to trust God with the outcomes of our obedience. Mother Teresa, after being confronted with her ministry’s minimal effect on poverty in Calcutta, responded, “I am not called to be successful. I am called to be faithful.” Do we think we can carve out an exception to the “love your enemies” concept because these enemies seem particularly brutal and unreasonable? Do we think God wears kid gloves? God knows with whom we are dealing, and I trust that if I am obedient, God can use that to change hearts.
There is a small tent put up by Christians near a refugee transit center in Athens. They share the Gospel with more people per day than most missionaries in the Middle East would in a lifetime. They have found inquisitive and open minds and hearts; people are asking for Bibles in their language. God has brought the harvest to the workers.
A kingdom perspective tells us that we are exceptionally favored. We consider our prosperity as the result of our righteousness (hard work, tolerance, wisdom). We begin the circular logic that because we are right, we are blessed and because we are blessed, we are right. This might be far from the truth, as Amos prophesizes against a then-prosperous Israel and calls their religious offerings “a stench” to the Lord while they neglect righteousness.
In my own life the illustration is this: My son was born with a disability that means, without a miracle, he will not walk by his own strength. Is this disappointing? Yes, because I want him to know the joy of physical strength. But no, because his disability does not affect the most important things about him, including his relationship with God. In fact, his weakness facilitates a better, closer relationship!
A Kingdom perspective tells us that power and prosperity are not things to be grasped for their own sake. They are tools given us to do God’s will in obedience, and if God asks us to give them up for God’s Kingdom, then we trust that God will provide what we need in another way.
A Kingdom perspective tells us that God loves the nations. Before God, we are all sinners and that radical equality should humble us. We have confidence because we are children of the King. We have humility because it’s a big Kingdom.
It’s easy to say, but we know we trust God when obedience costs us something. Something we really want. Practically, do we believe in democracy when the majority disagrees with us? Would we defend the right of others to practice a religion that is not our own? These questions are unsettling because it’s uncomfortable to even think about living as a persecuted (or just unfavored) minority. But would it affect the most important things about us?
I choose love. I choose not to fear my neighbor, and not to trust anybody telling me that I am better than another person. I choose to open my hand and let go of my power, my privileged status, my family, my life, trusting that God will fill it again with what I need. I will welcome strangers into my home as I am told to do over and over again in Scripture, and I will trust God with the outcome of my obedience.
SADA ANDREWS is a senior advocate for Lifewater International. An attorney, she has worked with refugees on asylum cases in the U.S. Sada lives in Atascadero, California, and is a member of Highlands Church (PCUSA) in Paso Robles.
