I’ve been pondering how much Christ loved us so much to leave the comfort of perfect love, joy, peace, and fellowship with the Father and Holy Spirit to become a man. Pastor Scott said last week He could have come on a white horse with a sword on His side then, but we would have most likely refused and resisted Him. No, He chose to come humbly, in the least of all places, in the most vulnerable way I can imagine… as a baby. And who doesn’t love babies?!?
A baby born to save us. It’s not the way I would have come to save people. The genius behind His strategy is other than. And yet, I see and appreciate how low He chose to go for love. The humility He displayed raises the standard for my definition of love.
As His child, I’m learning how to be more like Him. This week, It struck me how important it is to humble ourselves to make others feel safe. Humility removes barriers that hinder others from fear, allowing them to feel secure enough to receive the Gospel.
Looking back on the years we gave to fostering, I learned much about making people feel safe. It took sacrifice. It took changing how we usually or wanted to do things. It meant thinking about others first. It meant first considering their responses, triggers, traumas, hopes, cultural backgrounds, and preferences. It meant earning their trust. And it took time. There was no microwave fast food option to serve them the nourishment they needed to feel safe.
So we painted bedrooms, bought new kinds of food, and tried different recipes. I had to let go of my right to choose things I’d rather have to help them connect to our family. I had to write out our schedule and include meal and snack times. I had to learn about trauma-informed care (I wholeheartedly believe everyone should learn about that, btw!) I had to move the drawer where we kept snacks. Yes, I even had to consider things I thought were silly or didn’t make sense. My schedule was so chaotic that I went to an hour-by-hour planner. I remember I bought a combination lock for one child to practice at home to ease his anxiety and embarrassment at school. Did I have to? No. But were his feelings worth that $3? Absolutely.
Do I regret the rights I laid down? No. Those laid down rights demonstrated in an authentic way my love and concern for their safety and well-being, showing how much I valued the importance of their reconciliation with the caregivers they loved and were separated from.
Our sacrifices opened doors of opportunity to share the Gospel in ways prideful Gospels never could have. They would have resisted demands like we would have resisted Christ coming without mercy. But He came and became nothing, stricken, afflicted, mocked, and wounded to make a way for us to be reconciled to our heavenly Father. Christ’s sacrifice shouts, “You’re worth it!” to a lost and dying world. Do mine? Do yours?
Scripture reveals the Father’s heart in Paul’s recorded in 1 Corinthians 8: “Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak. For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, eating in an idol’s temple, won’t that person be emboldened to eat what is sacrificed to idols? So this weak brother or sister, for whom Christ died, is destroyed by your knowledge. When you sin against them in this way and wound their weak conscience, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if what I eat causes my brother or sister to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again so that I will not cause them to fall.”
I wonder if Paul ever had a ribeye cooked to perfection, a Farouk pizza from Bobe’s, or chicken nuggets from Chic-Fil-A. I’m going to assume even then, it wouldn’t matter. In light of eternity, he valued souls more than his own comfort.
His reconciliation strategy is actually revealed in the next chapter:
“Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone to win as many as possible. To the Jews, I became like a Jew to win the Jews. To those under the law, I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law, I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so as to win those not having the law. To the weak, I became weak to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means, I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the Gospel that I may share in its blessings.” -1 Corinthians 9:19-23 NIV
I can’t help but compare and relate Paul’s freedoms to those we have as Americans. We can write what we want, eat what we want, wear what we want, and worship how we want. We have so many rights we are rightfully grateful to have. But do we prioritize our rights the way Christ would? Do we consider how exercising our rights makes others resist the Gospel because they don’Gospel safe? Our actions proclaim the value we place on the lost. How important are their souls? Do we want to offend others with our opinions before they feel safe enough to receive the Gospel? Do we claim persGospeln when we are really the offender? Ouch. We must examine our hearts. Souls are worth the sacrifices we are shown to make.
What makes you feel safe? Trembling as I walked into an Indianapolis women’s clinic, I noticed a man standing outside with a sign. I remember his words, “This place isn’t safe for you.” How was he making it safer? He wasn’t. His protest did nothing to show me or the child I lost our value. His words felt like a pointed finger that separated our worlds. There was no bridge, sacrifice, extravagant display of love, and no offer to listen or provide for my needs. It only cost him the time he had invested to make his sign and stand outside. Thank God Jesus didn’t just make a sign and stand outside! No, the Word became the very words that would write value on my heart because He entered my world to save me. My child is safe in his arms now and has a name, and someday, I will get to hold her because of a sacrifice given that I never deserved. Friends, that is love.
I want to leave you to ponder David’s heart found in his response to Araunah in 1 Chronicles 21:24:
“But King David replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on paying the full price. I will not take for the Lord what is yours or sacrifice a burnt offering that costs me nothing.”
How much will you give to love the world Christ died to save? What if a person would only feel safe if you demonstrated concern for their concerns regarding contracting COVID-19? What’s a piece of fabric compared to an eternal soul? What if a person would only feel safe if you laid down your sign to wash their feet (babysit their kid, put new tires on their car, paid their rent…)? What if a person only felt safe if you… you fill in the blank. Are you willing? Would you still give God your yes? Think about it.
