“The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. So, pray to the Lord of the harvest that He would send out laborers into his harvest field.” Jesus said these words to his disciples as he looked down over the multitudes flowing out of the city to come hear the message. He saw into every heart, every life, every hurt. It was for these, that He had come to die. I cannot help but wonder if in his omniscience, as he pleaded for his disciples to pray that God would send out workers to meet these needs, if he was not also looking forward to the countless lives of saints who would be the answer to those prayers. I wonder if as his heart broke for those standing before him on the sandy hills out stretching before his eyes if his heart was not also churned for those standing before him across the planes of time. Was He comforted to see those faithful followers who through courses of history would give their everything to attend to the Father’s harvest, smiling thinking of them? Did His burden grow again looking forward to the great number of those who would claim his name but never interest themselves in His work, never setting their hands to the plow?
The Lord has been teaching me much about His heart for the harvest over these past years. I am now aware I have spent the bulk of my years, though they be few, missing it. I think far too often Satan too easily blinds my eyes to the work the Lord desires to be doing in the world today. Sadly I find this too often to be the case. Oh that the Lord would open our eyes to the work that is on His heart. That we would begin to redeem the time! That the church would not remain dormant any longer, but that we would go out as the Lord intended. God has been showing me that what the Church carries out is too often not all that He calls it to.
The Lord has been teaching me much about His heart for the harvest over these past years. I am now aware I have spent the bulk of my years, though they be few, missing it. I think far too often Satan too easily blinds my eyes to the work the Lord desires to be doing in the world today. Sadly I find this too often to be the case. Oh that the Lord would open our eyes to the work that is on His heart. That we would begin to redeem the time! That the church would not remain dormant any longer, but that we would go out as the Lord intended. God has been showing me that what the Church carries out is too often not all that He calls it to.
The Lord has spent some large amount of time teaching me this rather simple truth. He has revealed it to me gradually as I have traveled these past few years. I remember vividly my trip to the Dominican Republic in 2010. It was my first time leaving the United States to a country that speaks a language different then my own. As the plane lowered into the capital city, I knew I was entering into a different world. I fell in love with the people there and wanted more than anything to share the hope I carried with them. I can still remember vividly the trips we took down dusty roads to the poor outlying sugarcane villages. The faces of these precious people I will forever carry with me in my mind. One one such face was a young woman carrying a little baby boy; she pleaded with us for just a little food for she and her family hadn’t eaten in days. We were given specific instruction what we could and could not do from the national missionaries to avoid conflicts amongst the villagers and to not make them too dependant on those there on short term missions. One of these instructions was not to share of the food that we had packed away in the bus for our lunches for fear that it would cause dissension amongst the people if it didn’t reach to all of them. So we offered what we could. We unloaded from the greyhound and with lots of enthusiasm and lots of hand motions played with the filthy yet beautiful children. Many had little clothing; missing some vital articles of clothing you would never imagine seeing a youngster without in the states. One little boy (completely naked) had gotten knocked over in the game and began to weep. I came to him and picked him up holding him out from me at arms length to see what the damage had been. I looked at his right ear and saw it was terribly infected a white puss flowed from it and had hardened more than once without being tended. I thought of the risks of catching the infection but no sooner had the thought crossed my mind that the Lord convicted me taking my mind to the times he touched the lepers in love. Would I be one that held the world at arm’s length or one that would draw them into Christ’s love? I held the small child tight to my chest his precious little head nestled in alongside my ear. God was changing me.
We loaded back into the tour bus and as the small village vanished into the fields that surrounded it the Lord brought to me the understanding that it was not these peoples poverty that was tragic but rather their spiritual state. The need for a Pauline ministry was evident in my eyes. Someone needed to go village to village and establish churches and teach these people how to live out the Christian life not just share the gospel. The people had already been evangelized but they needed to be shepherded. I sheepishly told the Lord I was willing, but it seemed impossible that the Lord would ever send me to this ministry. We then went into the capital city and the normal parts of town were worse than much of the slums of the United States, but still in comparison to the villages we had visited the day before these people lived in great wealth. The churches we visited were relatively healthy and they were sustained in their current ministries. It became evident to me that these people were the answer to this prayer for church planters, but I did not speak with a single person that shared a vision for the harvest field sitting just miles from the city limits. The harvest was plentiful but the workers were few.
My week in the Dominican lead me to a year in Argentina to learn the Spanish language so that I would be more equipped to be sent. My time there holds many distinguishing memories and defining moments. One such a moment came in one of my first trips to the capital, Buenos Aries. The expanse between what the Church is, and what it is called to be gaped in front of me again. Surrounding the Plaza de Mayo stand all the buildings that represent power and influence in Argentina: the pink house, the congress building and many other concrete giants. Among them there is the spectacular Catholic cathedral. It is not merely a building or place of worship; it is art. But no matter how lovely it may be there was something troubling beneath the splendid architecture. Under its painted elaborate ceiling knelt a very few worshipers. Grand steps lead up to the cathedral and most that are coming and going are tourists coming to see art. I am sure to them the many homeless that have taken residence on the doorsteps of the church are a great inconvenience to them in their pursuit of beauty. However this is the less lovely reality of the situation. It seemed that neither those within or without were finding what they sought. Some sought peace with God, which can never be attained by adherence to a religion. Some sought compassion and a little food to fill their bellies, which was rarely seen in the bustle of the city. Was this not the harvest field? As I passed by, feelings of conviction overcame me once again. What could I say, my Spanish was too limited to explain the truth I carried? What could I do, my selfishness was too great to give more than 10 pesos and a track in Spanish I have crammed in my pocket? I had with me about 200 pesos for the day for souvenirs and food for myself I considered giving it to them, but how could I trust that they wouldn’t misuse it? Was this even for me to ask? Where was the compassion Christ demonstrated to the masses? There were disconnects here, lots of them.
It is easy to see and criticize these inconsistencies and faults that lie in others thousands of miles away. Perhaps the most troubling inconsistency I see, I see in my own life. I can say I have vision for the world, wanting to change it for the better, but what good are ones claims if his vision does not even reach across the street he grew up on? It is easy to find “compassion” for the needy children seen on television commercials. Easy to think things along the lines of, “that is terrible” or “something needs to be done,” while remaining unchanged, but true compassion must lead to action. How often do the churches in the world today ignore the needy present on their very doorstep? How often are the opportunities just outside the city limits left unrealized? How is it that believers are so often blinded to the field in which they stand? How long will it continue? Oh that the Lord would open eyes.
My week in the Dominican lead me to a year in Argentina to learn the Spanish language so that I would be more equipped to be sent. My time there holds many distinguishing memories and defining moments. One such a moment came in one of my first trips to the capital, Buenos Aries. The expanse between what the Church is, and what it is called to be gaped in front of me again. Surrounding the Plaza de Mayo stand all the buildings that represent power and influence in Argentina: the pink house, the congress building and many other concrete giants. Among them there is the spectacular Catholic cathedral. It is not merely a building or place of worship; it is art. But no matter how lovely it may be there was something troubling beneath the splendid architecture. Under its painted elaborate ceiling knelt a very few worshipers. Grand steps lead up to the cathedral and most that are coming and going are tourists coming to see art. I am sure to them the many homeless that have taken residence on the doorsteps of the church are a great inconvenience to them in their pursuit of beauty. However this is the less lovely reality of the situation. It seemed that neither those within or without were finding what they sought. Some sought peace with God, which can never be attained by adherence to a religion. Some sought compassion and a little food to fill their bellies, which was rarely seen in the bustle of the city. Was this not the harvest field? As I passed by, feelings of conviction overcame me once again. What could I say, my Spanish was too limited to explain the truth I carried? What could I do, my selfishness was too great to give more than 10 pesos and a track in Spanish I have crammed in my pocket? I had with me about 200 pesos for the day for souvenirs and food for myself I considered giving it to them, but how could I trust that they wouldn’t misuse it? Was this even for me to ask? Where was the compassion Christ demonstrated to the masses? There were disconnects here, lots of them.
It is easy to see and criticize these inconsistencies and faults that lie in others thousands of miles away. Perhaps the most troubling inconsistency I see, I see in my own life. I can say I have vision for the world, wanting to change it for the better, but what good are ones claims if his vision does not even reach across the street he grew up on? It is easy to find “compassion” for the needy children seen on television commercials. Easy to think things along the lines of, “that is terrible” or “something needs to be done,” while remaining unchanged, but true compassion must lead to action. How often do the churches in the world today ignore the needy present on their very doorstep? How often are the opportunities just outside the city limits left unrealized? How is it that believers are so often blinded to the field in which they stand? How long will it continue? Oh that the Lord would open eyes.
Thank you, Josiah. This is excellent! The raw compassion you have for the spiritual & physical plights of others is a beautiful thing. God will use it - be pliable & available, & He will create you to be the vessel He wants you to be.
ReplyDeleteStay on The Potter's Wheel, my friend!