Hi Sweet Friends,
I’m no theologian. In fact, I had to look up how to spell it. But I’ve partaken of several books, dramas, documentaries, articles, and experiences as of late that certainly got my heart and mind reeling. As society shut down because of the coronavirus, many of us turned homeward. For some, like me, adult children returned home. Some, not like me, turned to cleaning closets and home improvements. Many turned to reading and television watching for entertainment or news and information. There wasn’t much good news, and daunting data of the sick and dying left many fearful and many seeking answers about God in our hurt. And that’s exactly where all of us should come to, and what pain should lead us to, seeking God. I don’t mean trying to answer all of the “why” questions, though that has been the pursuit of some. I mean asking the “What would You have me see? What would You ask of me? How do You want me to join You in Your tremendous rescue mission for mankind?” questions. Sounds lofty, doesn’t it? Let me assure you that I battle greatly with the humility, selflessness, and adoration for my Savior that are necessary to ask those questions. Let me share with you two documentaries that I watched that came to be visual pictures of the battle raging in me. I was trying to pay attention to how different kinds of movies and shows made me feel. Some made me feel dull and discontent. Some spurred me on to righteousness. The most obvious reactions in me came from watching two very different documentaries about two different families’ life journeys. One was “Chasing Happiness” about the pop group The Jonas Brothers. Please don’t text me and tell me how shallow I am. I would go see the Osmond Brothers tomorrow if they were performing nearby. That was contrasted with the documentary “Free Burma Rangers” about a missionary family who has dedicated their lives to help and rescue the hurting in war-torn countries. Both stories fascinated me. I truly enjoy hearing about people’s journeys and how they got to where they are.
The Jonas Brothers started as young teens about the same ages as my own kids at the time. They seemed wholesome and from a close family. The youngest of the group was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes around the same time my young son was, so we felt a bond. Nick Jonas made diabetes look cool. We weren’t avid followers, but they seemed red-hot for a time and then suddenly disappeared as a group. The three emerged as solo talents in different projects. I never knew what truly happened. The documentary follows their reunion as brothers and as a group that has placed them in the red-hot category again. It chronicles their rise to fame, their joys and stardom, their frustrations and pain, and their breakup and reunion. “Chasing Happiness” is an appropriate name for the film. Indeed, it would be an appropriate name for most of our life stories. The brothers seemed honestly pained by fracture in their relationships and the great loss of their brotherly connections. They all three spoke to the value of family and importance and priority of their young marriages. I don’t know about their lifestyles, lyrics, or music. I’m making no judgements. I only know how the Jonas brothers’ “Chasing Happiness” made me feel. I finished it feeling entertained and informed, but also somewhat empty and jealous. Such attention and wealth must be so intoxicating. It feeds the immature part of me that dreamed of such things for myself. It makes my life appear dull and homely. One of the brothers said that when he wasn’t performing in the group, he didn’t know who he was. He didn’t have an identity. If we can see through some of the vanity and glitz, then why does it look so appealing? Having everything money can buy and getting applause for being beautiful and talented aren’t wrong, they’re just not what makes us matter. And isn’t that what we all want, to know we matter? I struggle here.
Contrast that documentary with the one called “Free Burma Rangers.” It is the story of David Eubank and his family and their journey in caring for the broken, beaten, and dying in countries ravaged by war. David is a former U.S. Army Special Forces and Ranger officer. The parents and three kids boldly went where they felt God was leading them, risking everything. They gave up their lives and standard of living that we as Americans feel we have a right to. They became like those they went to save. Sound familiar? They gave military and survival training to refugees who survived brutal attacks. They also gave them the gospel and the understanding of Jesus’s sacrifice for them, which both humbled them and emboldened them to sacrifice for others. Someone was appointed to film and document every mission, rescue, and loss to show the world the great need and God’s great provision. Not only their actions, but their words speak to their complete and utter dependence on God for all things. They know that they may be killed, and they are humbled to give a life in the service of their King. They say they have no regrets and would make the same choices again. They say that they made no sacrifices. You can see the transformed lives of their children, serving and loving. They aren’t asking if their lives matter. Jesus is what matters. They are constantly declaring to the people that they go to that they matter. God sees them and knows them and came for them. They matter to Him, which gives them infinite worth. I can’t put into words how I felt after watching this documentary. I was awed, humbled, grateful, and convicted. I’m convicted of what I call sacrifice, that I equate it with inconvenience, like my coffee not being hot enough. I’m convicted of what I think matters. I’m convicted of wanting the easy and fluffy over the true and beautiful. I’m embarrassed of soft and easy living. I’m convicted of not adoring my Savior. I am spurred to righteousness after hearing such a story. I am filled with the longing to make God’s name famous to all. I am humbled to be rescued and grateful to join my Savior in His kingdom work and redemption story.
My assessment of myself after the Jonas Brothers’ story was that I wanted more. More of what they had. More for me. My assessment after the Burma story was that I wanted less for me and more of Jesus. I wanted to be poured out and filled with Him to pour out for others. My mind and heart jump all over the place between those two realities. I’m not knocking the Jonas Brothers. I’m telling you my reaction to their story. Like the ugly that rises in me when someone has what I want or think I should have. So how do I live and fight in these competing worlds, the one for myself and the one for God’s purposes and glory? I do just that, I fight. I invest in God’s Word and act on it. I read good books and listen to good stories of lives transformed and fixed on Christ. I learn from those who have gone before me and lived a life of putting Christ and others before themselves. I look for those who look like Jesus and hang on. The lives of Elisabeth Elliot, Joni Erikson Tada, and Frank Drown are just a few that have shown me what Jesus looks like. Look them up. Look up a short video of Paul Miller’s on learning to love. I’ve recently read some great books called The J Curve and Is This It? that are about our dying and rising with Christ and our life hope being in Him. I’ve worked on a Bible study that the women of our church are joining in called No Other Gods. It has convicted me and spurred me to holiness. I watched the YouTube dramatization of characters in the life of Christ called “The Chosen.” I was skeptical, then I was delighted and enthralled. I read a small book by John Piper called The Coronavirus and Christ. I was again skeptical. Nothing really seemed new or different for me. Or so I thought. I’m always stunned by my own arrogance whenever I see it. In his book, Piper reminds us of God’s work and purposes in pain and suffering. He reminds us of the call to courage in compassion and to good and selfless works. I was reminded that the call to good works and deeds is all through scripture, but earning never is. There is never deserving, only grace. Thank God! We serve the King, but we’re His because He made it so, not because we earned or worked for it. Loving will always mean working. I will leave you with a portion of a prayer from the last page of Pipers’s book. May the same words fall from our lips, engulf our hearts, and drive us to our knees as we seek Him in these memorable times.
“But do not waste our misery and grief, O Lord. Purify your people from powerless preoccupation with barren materialism and Christless entertainment. Put our mouths out of taste with the bait of Satan. Cut from us the roots and remnant of pride and hate and unjust ways. Grant us capacities of outrage at our own belittling of your glory. Open the eyes of our hearts to see and savor the beauty of Christ. Incline our hearts to your word, your Son, and your way. Fill us with compassionate courage. And make a name for yourself in the way your people serve. …And bring the hearts and lives of millions into alignment with the infinite worth of Jesus.”
In Jesus’s name, Amen.
Leave a Reply