Struggling Imperfectly Forward
Sharing the deepest of commitments across very different circumstances
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I returned from Nepal a week ago. I have traveled there before and have shared thoughts from that trip - most of which still apply. It is a place where many things are different - it is on the other side of the world, after all. But I want to reflect on some of what I experienced that isn’t unique to that place, to that cultural setting. However unique it may or may not be to our experience, it is common to our human condition.
I was invited, for reasons I don’t understand, to speak at a conference for pastors in Nepal. The conference was on intentional discipleship - which is, briefly, what it means for each of us to be a disciple first, before we consider how to multiply that in a church setting. If you are not familiar, one of Christ’s last commands was for each of his followers to make disciples - to make fellow followers of Christ. What that has meant across the ages has varied widely, with results that have varied widely, but which have, to my eye and in my experience, been disappointing. The reasons for this could probably be the topic of a future piece, but I want to look at what I hope it could mean - for reasons that I hope will be clear (and helpful) in a minute. What does it mean to be a disciple? It may look like many things, but the goal, the idea, is to be engaged first in our own transformation - powered by the Holy Spirit - to be more like Christ. That is, anything that I call discipleship, however blessed it may be by the church, however actually good and helpful it may be, if it is not part of a transformative process where I am becoming kinder, more a person of peace, wiser, more full of hope, more loving, more intentional, more full of grace, with more understanding of God’s love, character, and purposes in the world - it isn’t what Jesus was talking about when He told us to be a disciple and to make disciples. And the act of making disciples is, according to my definition, being used by God to facilitate this transformation in another, by way of an intentional relationship.
Sorry for the long preamble - this isn’t going to be a treatise on discipleship. It is going to be, I hope, a brief reflection on common commitments in an uncommon (to me, to us) setting - and an example of what these commitments may look like in a setting we find it hard to relate to, on the one hand, and all to familiar, on the other.
I want to talk about a new friend, I’ll call him K (not even his real first initial), someone I met in Nepal at the conference. Almost everyone at the conference was from Nepal, but K was from another place. He was from a place where revealing his identity and activities might cause his arrest or worse. K is from a country torn by war and natural disaster. If you think that might be too specific, I invite you to investigate the current number of countries torn by war and natural disaster - places that we may have never heard of or of which we are only very dimly aware. Lots of people in the world live in circumstances we can only imagine. One of the points I hope to make is that many of these people that I met in Nepal have more hope, more peace, more love, and less fear than many in my (and probably your) home country. K is one of those people.
K is a better disciple than I am. Of course, I am supposed to say that, even if I don’t think it - but I do think it and have a reason for saying it. K doesn’t speak Nepali and while his English is pretty good - he had to work to participate in the conference. Which he was eager to do. He wanted to inculcate from this group not only how to grow more like Christ himself, but to be an intentional part of the transformation of those he ministers to in his home country. K has helped people rebuild homes and villages ruined by disaster and by war, through his own labor and through cooperating with others, and through raising funds from outside the country. He prays and works and loves tirelessly in a situation that seems to our eyes to have no light at the end of the tunnel - thanklessly, anonymously, humbly. He, as he follows Jesus, just keeps going - loving, repairing, encouraging, feeding, clothing, building. He loves and cares for “the least of these” - loving them as he loves Jesus’ formulation, in loving them, he loves Jesus (Matthew 35:31-46).
K doesn’t seem to think he is a better disciple than I am, or than anyone else for that matter - I don’t get the impression he thinks about it at all. He is truly unpretentious (not #Unpretentious), a village leader in flip flops sharing a beer with me as we ate dinner together. And by sharing, I hasten to point out, I mean that K made sure, in case there was any question or language barrier, that we each had our own pint. K doesn’t want anyone to visit him in his country - the violence is too unpredictable, the killing too random, he cannot be sure we would be safe. But he doesn’t think about staying away.
K asked a question during the conference, a question I answered, but one that we discussed individually off line, probably over dinner. There is a lot of killing in K’s country - killing that is unjust, random, inexplicable, tragic, grievous, enraging. K’s question is about forgiveness. In thinking about discipleship, his own journey toward Christlikeness, K thinks of forgiveness - his most pressing issue. He asked me, but he, in many ways, knows more about it than I ever will - because Christ calls him to apply forgiveness in ways that seem extreme to me, to us. He is committed to following that call in ways it is hard, probably impossible, for me to imagine.
But it is a commitment we share. A commitment to forgive, to be transformed into a more forgiving person. It is one part of the commitment of discipleship. It is a commitment we understand as foundational to Christianity, and as something we all face. As a small group of us spoke about it together, we had all struggled with forgiveness, with this commitment. I am convinced that all transformation toward the image of Christ is basically impossible for us - we are called to participate with God’s Spirit - but He must empower it because we can’t do it ourselves. That might sound good in theory, but it goes against every fibre of our grain. We have to actively and intentionally move in the direction of transformation, and, at the same time, cry out for the ability, for the desire - or for the ability absent the desire, to forgive - or to love, to have peace, to have the faith necessary to continue the journey. So to say it is hard to forgive misses the point - our part is hard, the divine component necessary is impossible. Once, when Jesus explained the difficulty for those with means to be in a right relationship with God, his disciples were greatly astonished and wondered how it was possible for anyone to be saved. Jesus told them, and us, what is impossible for us is possible with God.
Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Matthew 19:26
Our main problem with this - the impossibility of truly following Jesus, of truly forgiving, having faith, peace, hope, wisdom, love - is that we attempt to make it possible. We want to measure it, analyze it, make it into an abstraction. We want it to be difficult, of course, but possible. If we are honest, we want to be successful at it - to feel good about our progress. And we don’t want to feel guilty about our anger with someone we have already struggled to forgive. And so we either explain away our inability to forgive that person - the injustice done is too great (but isn’t that the point?) - or we explain away the injustice into something we don’t have to forgive. But the harm remains, the hurt remains - not just for us but, worse, for people we love. To truly wrestle with it, to truly feel the injustice, the anger, to grieve the loss - an injustice, anger, and loss that does not go away - and then to forgive? It is beyond me. It is beyond you, I believe. It is beyond K. That is why he asked, I think.
And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors
Matthew 6:12
But what is impossible for me and for K is possible with God. That is the transformation. It is the only road to any such transformation.
Jesus told those who would follow him that they must deny themselves -
Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.
Luke 9:32
This isn’t an abstraction. We must deny our need to enact justice in order to forgive (even if the situation needs justice enacted). We must deny our impulse to fear, to despair, to rage, to hate. And we must pick up our cross - an intentional act of mission and sacrifice for others. That is an act of faith, a daily series of acts of faith, and hope, and love. In the process, we are transformed - not by our self denial, not by successfully carrying our cross, though our commitment to do so is essential - but by His divine power in us as we stumble and struggle imperfectly forward. K is imperfectly struggling forward as he forgives those who have caused so much pain. It is the only way forward. And I am imperfectly struggling forward also.
K is back in his country - let’s pray for him, for the faith and power to forgive and to keep loving. Pray for me while you are at it, if you don’t mind.
Links
Everything is Different Here - The Embassy - Mike Sherman - October 1, 2022
