Jennifer's Biggest Fear

My daughter Jennifer wrote this from her college dorm. I am delighted to share it with you.

My Biggest Fear

[[This is the result of about a year's worth of thinking and observing, as well as recent conversations with Levi Osborn, George Constantine, and Bri Bernardy. I don't aim to call you a bad Christian, but I do hope to point out that if you are comfortable with your faith and your relationships, you probably aren't doing it right.]]

Ghandi was such an observant, wise man. His muses serve as wisdom for people seeking to improve the world even today.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world."

Lately, I've been pondering what kind of change I wish to see. Ridding the world of poverty or disease would be cool. Making sure everyone has drinkable water is important. It would also be nice if people would stop killing each other. But those aren't exactly things I can accomplish on my own. I cannot be the end of starving children. How, then, can I "be the change"?

These issues our world faces today largely stem from one root problem, another thing that Ghandi so articulately stated:

"Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

Our deviation from what God wants for us —to be Christ-like—is what causes us to sin, to abandon God's way.

To be honest, Christians really get on my nerves sometimes. We become so content and comfortable with our perfect little lives that we cease to become a tool in the hands of God. Jesus subjected himself to 40 days in the desert knowing full well that he would be uncomfortable AND that Satan would tempt him. Why, then, are we so afraid of being temptd and uncomfortable? Why do we limit ourselves to like-minded friends? Why do groups like Campus Christian Fellowship (CCF) have to be a "community," and therefore isolated and sheltered? Why do we move across the country to live near Christians that we are comfortable with instead of into areas where we can do good?

Who would Jesus hang out with if he attended Truman State University? Certainly not CCF. I think he'd pop in every now and then, but he'd be chillin' in the Student Center talking to anybody willing to listen. If Jesus came to the Winter Family Weekend in Lexington, he'd be talking to a new person every time you saw him; he would never limit himself to those already familiar with him.

Valuing like-minded people and old friends is good; don't think I'm downplaying the importance of that. They hold you accountable, keep you rooted to the ground, and know where you'll need help.

However, lately I've noticed just how much we restrict ourselves to these people we've known forever, go to church with, feel "connections" to. I firmly believe that this attitude harms the spread of God's word more than just about anything. It is the greatest temptation—something almost godlike, a second-best "community" that fails at imitating the Kingdom, but is close enough that it distracts us from ministering.

Who are we serving by isolating ourselves from the tax collectors and prostitutes of our society? Certainly not Jesus, who spent his time on Earth having dinner with the same people we tend to avoid. We are serving ourselves—it is a prideful, selfish act that claims that your comfort and your image are more important than your fellow humans experiencing the Good News of our salvation.

Really: what would Jesus do? I don't claim to know, but I am fairly certain that he would not condone the self-righteous act of isolating oneself from the world that makes us afraid. I just want everyone to examine his or her life and the choices he or she makes. Are you isolating yourself from the "sinners" around you, or do you welcome friendship with everyone? Do you shine your light out into the world, or do you and your fellow candlefriends huddle under that notorious bushel out of fear of the outside? The "city on a hill" shouldn't be a tantalizing, untouchable mystery to those around it. It should be the reality of everyone in the world, and it could be if we Christians were more like our Christ.

Go be the change you wish to see. Are you uncomfortable and a little scared? Good!