So this is it. The final installment of my year-long look at becoming an ordinary radical. It’s fitting then that while you read this, I’ll be at a conference in New Orleans, listening to Shane Claiborne talk about wealth and stewardship. A perfect end to a year that focused on Claiborne’s teachings and his call to be a better Christian.
Am I a better Christian? I don’t know. Perhaps I’m more aware of what that means, or at least of what that means to me. And from what I can tell, part of what it means is trying. Trying and failing, trying and succeeding, wanting to try but not quite getting there, then trying, trying, trying again. And through it all—and I think herein lies the secret—there are other Christians to encourage, bolster, and yes, even chastise, your efforts (or lack thereof).
I was told several times through the year that people were enjoying my column; that it meant something or spoke to them in some way. Those are nice words to hear—especially for us writers who love to be told that what we’ve produced is actually being read. But what was even nicer to hear was the empathy expressed; when I wrote something of my struggles, my discouragement, my frustrations, people told me to keep on keeping on. To not feel badly. To try again.
Isn’t that what we all want? Just as a child tries to master a task but once again falls short, she looks to a loving parent to console and uplift; so too I need the support of others around me.
I think that’s called community.
What does Oprah call that again? Ah yes, an ‘aha moment.’
For the last year, I’ve been part of a Micah group—an initiative of Fuller Seminary in California that brings (mostly) preachers and pastors together to study, learn, support and encourage. We met again in early November, where the topic we considered was, “Burden.” (And before I say anything else, I implore you to watch a TED Talk by Father Gregory Boyle, which you can find on YouTube. It’s 20 minutes of pure awesomeness; a story of compassion and kinship, and the burden Boyle carries to serve and rehabilitate gang members in Los Angeles.)
Burden. It’s a word I’ve never really given much thought to in the past. Burden means “to carry with difficulty.” But Jesus told us to cast aside our burdens; to come to him and he will hand us a yoke that is light.
“God specially attends to how we love God and love our neighbour,” states some of the reading material given to us for the Micah course. “This is the burden that is squarely and clearly given to us to carry. Our primary daily vocation is to demonstrate that we are doing these two things and doing so in power and love of The Good Neighbour.”
It goes on to say: “The vocation of the Church is to be free of the yoke we cannot bear in order to carry the yoke we are intended to bear. In this we become expressions of God’s righteousness and love. We are to carry what God’s love gives us to carry. By grace we are freed from the weight of sin and guilt and are made free for the weight of love God wants us to carry.”
I have often felt burdened by this column and the goal it set out to achieve. But when I think back, the burden became most heavy (refer to my June entry where I said exactly that) when I was trying to do things on my own; when I relied on myself instead of on friends and family, or on God.
A couple of months ago, I mentioned a reader who wrote me a letter, frankly telling me that my efforts will ultimately be in vain (and unsustainable) if I do not act in community.
And he was right.
I even noticed this while organizing (for the first time) the women’s breakfast at my church. I thought, “How hard can it be?” Well, it’s not hard, but there sure are a zillion things you have to attend to! Managing the entire thing on my own would have been sheer folly. Thankfully, many, many people volunteered their time and talents to help make the event a success. My burden became much lighter thanks to them. Without community, the burden is heavy. Difficult. Unsustainable.
And what of the burden God has given me? The burden that “God’s love gives us to carry?” I felt led to start this column in an effort to figure out what that burden was. I can sense that I do indeed have a burden for others; to serve in some way. I had hoped that through writing, the answer would magically come to me. I was wrong. I’m still searching. And that’s not a bad thing.
When my youngest daughter was baptized, my husband and I chose these words for the event:
“How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3: 17-18)
This is our burden. May we always be willing to carry it.
