WHAT ABOUT YOUR LIFE?
Taking the Gospel to the nations is worth a few weeks of your summer. Reaching your city with the love of the Father is worth a few hours a week. That is good. I have a really important question for you: Is it worth more than that?
Have you ever considered devoting all of your life to this work? Could you give your best years to a nation in desperate need of the Gospel? Would you consider laying down your life for an inner city community here in the States? If you haven't, why not? If you have, what are you concluding?
The great 19th century preacher, Charles Spurgeon, shared this with his students:
Taking the Gospel to the nations is worth a few weeks of your summer. Reaching your city with the love of the Father is worth a few hours a week. That is good. I have a really important question for you: Is it worth more than that?
Have you ever considered devoting all of your life to this work? Could you give your best years to a nation in desperate need of the Gospel? Would you consider laying down your life for an inner city community here in the States? If you haven't, why not? If you have, what are you concluding?
The great 19th century preacher, Charles Spurgeon, shared this with his students:
“I plead this day for those who cannot plead for themselves, namely, the great outlying masses of the heathen world. Our existing pulpits are tolerably well supplied, but we need men who will build on new foundations. Who will do this? Are we, as a company of faithful men, clear in our consciences about the heathen? Millions have never heard the name of Jesus. Hundreds of millions have seen a missionary only once in their lives, and know nothing of our King. Shall we let them perish? Can we go to our beds and sleep while China, India, Japan, and other nations are being damned? Are we clear of their blood? Have they no claim upon us? We ought to put it on this footing -- not, 'Can I prove that I ought to go?' but 'Can I prove that I ought not to go?' When a man can prove honestly that he ought not to go, then he is clear, but not else. What answer do you give, my brethren? I put it to you man by man. I am not raising a question among you that I have not honestly put to myself...
A century or so later, Keith Green echoed this same message in song:
Jesus commands us to go,
But we go the other way.
So he carries the burden alone,
While his children are busy at play,
Feeling so called to stay...
Jesus commands us to go,
It should be the exception if we stay.
It's no wonder we're moving so slow,
When his church refuses to obey,
Feeling so called to stay.
What do we do with that? Is "reaching the world for Christ" something we do when it's convenient? When it fits into our plans and our timetables? As long as we can find time after the important things are covered -- like our work and school and fun and family? Or are we compelled to consider scrapping everything else and pursuing this mission with our entire lives? Yes, it is risky. I know, you have to think about money and career and family and... But, having thought about those things, can you offer them to Jesus because He is worth it all, and more?
Can you extend the kingdom and make disciples in business or education or politics or medicine or some other vocation here in the States? Of course! We need people for that, and it may well be that such is your calling. Pursue it with all the zeal and love and grace that He supplies for you.
But can we consider those to whom no one is going, or only very few? Can we seriously think about those locked in the horrible bondage of false religion with nobody there to set them free? Hindus in India. Muslims in the Middle East. Buddhists in Myanmar. What about the refugees, fleeing for their lives, having lost everything? In Spurgeon's words, "Have they no claim upon us?" What about even the poor and homeless and mentally ill in our own cities? Who will lay down their lives for these?
“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.'” -- Matthew 9:36-38
Once you have experienced what you have, and seen what you have seen, you have a responsibility. Knowledge is dangerous. You cannot un-know what God's mercy has allowed you to discover through your outreach and mission experiences. Very likely, at some point during your service you have had the thought, "This isn't right! This poverty right here in my city, the lost-ness of these people who are so precious and dear to the Father, the lack of missionaries in this nation, the camp full of refugees that nobody wants." And in your conviction that this isn't right, perhaps you've become convinced that someone ought to do something. Maybe you, like Jesus, have looked out on the pain and brokenness and lostness and hopelessness and felt compassion. And maybe that compassion has led you to pray. And maybe, just maybe, the Father has an answer to that prayer. And perhaps that answer is you.
Again, I am not suggesting that each one of you is called to go this route. But I am suggesting that you are responsible to offer yourself to the Father. To lay down your plans and ambitions, your hopes and your dreams. To even put on the altar the things you were convinced of. And just to simply say, like Isaiah the prophet, "Here am I. Send me." (Isaiah 6:8).
Don't do it lightly. Don't do it if you don't mean it. Count the cost. But take some time away, and surrender your future again to Jesus. Allow Him to disrupt your plans and derail your life. It's His right. He is Lord and Master. And, ultimately, it will be your joy. There will be heartaches and sacrifices and loss. Fears and deprivations and dangers. There will be discomfort and there will be loneliness and there will be pain. But He will be your joy, and you will discover that He is worth it all.
I'm convinced that the Lord is still surveying His people -- His blessed and comfortable and beautiful people, and asking that question, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" (Isaiah 6:8). Can you hear Him? How will you respond?
Can you extend the kingdom and make disciples in business or education or politics or medicine or some other vocation here in the States? Of course! We need people for that, and it may well be that such is your calling. Pursue it with all the zeal and love and grace that He supplies for you.
But can we consider those to whom no one is going, or only very few? Can we seriously think about those locked in the horrible bondage of false religion with nobody there to set them free? Hindus in India. Muslims in the Middle East. Buddhists in Myanmar. What about the refugees, fleeing for their lives, having lost everything? In Spurgeon's words, "Have they no claim upon us?" What about even the poor and homeless and mentally ill in our own cities? Who will lay down their lives for these?
“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.'” -- Matthew 9:36-38
Once you have experienced what you have, and seen what you have seen, you have a responsibility. Knowledge is dangerous. You cannot un-know what God's mercy has allowed you to discover through your outreach and mission experiences. Very likely, at some point during your service you have had the thought, "This isn't right! This poverty right here in my city, the lost-ness of these people who are so precious and dear to the Father, the lack of missionaries in this nation, the camp full of refugees that nobody wants." And in your conviction that this isn't right, perhaps you've become convinced that someone ought to do something. Maybe you, like Jesus, have looked out on the pain and brokenness and lostness and hopelessness and felt compassion. And maybe that compassion has led you to pray. And maybe, just maybe, the Father has an answer to that prayer. And perhaps that answer is you.
Again, I am not suggesting that each one of you is called to go this route. But I am suggesting that you are responsible to offer yourself to the Father. To lay down your plans and ambitions, your hopes and your dreams. To even put on the altar the things you were convinced of. And just to simply say, like Isaiah the prophet, "Here am I. Send me." (Isaiah 6:8).
Don't do it lightly. Don't do it if you don't mean it. Count the cost. But take some time away, and surrender your future again to Jesus. Allow Him to disrupt your plans and derail your life. It's His right. He is Lord and Master. And, ultimately, it will be your joy. There will be heartaches and sacrifices and loss. Fears and deprivations and dangers. There will be discomfort and there will be loneliness and there will be pain. But He will be your joy, and you will discover that He is worth it all.
I'm convinced that the Lord is still surveying His people -- His blessed and comfortable and beautiful people, and asking that question, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" (Isaiah 6:8). Can you hear Him? How will you respond?