First, he quoted Amos 6:1. "Woe to you who are complacent in Zion, and to you who feel secure on Mount Samaria, you notable men of the foremost nation, to whom the people of Israel come."
Then he began to share the thing that was most stirring in his heart. The thought, the coming moment when each one of us will fall before God while He looks down upon us and says, "Well Done, my good and faithful servant".
Along with probably everyone else in the room, I'm still waiting for the answer. Why? Why walk away from sixteen years of leading a growing and successful church? Why walk away from a position of worldwide influence? Why now?
His answer didn't resonate with me until I returned home from the conference. I have to credit my 3 year old little girl for actually helping daddy see what Francis was trying to say. His answer - a lack of Suffering.
A lack of suffering? Anti-prosperity gospel?
Do we have to suffer to hear God say, "Well Done"?
The night I returned home, after having been away from my daughter for almost a week, the revelation of suffering captivated my heart. And it came most unexpected.
The night before we left Orlando for home, while getting ready for bed, I was moving a large industrial sized fan into the doorway of our bedroom to create the kind of white noise that helps Katie and I sleep well. To my dismay, the large, round, sharp, heavy base wasn't very well attached. And, at the most inappropriate time, most likely when the base was at the highest elevation possible above my bare and naked foot, it dismantled and dropped - right on my big toe. I'm still amazed at how well our bodies can respond to pain when inflicted on such a tiny extremity. It hurt. Bad.
After walking in the door and being greeted by my 3 year old, I felt it necessary to take off my shoes and socks and give my newly black and blue and bloodied big toe a bit of refreshing air. Morgan said she wanted to see what was underneath the bandaid. So I thought, sweet, she'll love this. Doesn't every kid love the sight of a big black bloodied toe? Um, NO!
She was mortified. She grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. She wept and wept and wept almost like I have never seen her weep before. She was shaken at the core. I was a bit surprised actually. She was in turmoil. She kept saying over and over, "Daddy, I don't want you to have a boo-boo". And no matter how much I tried to convince her that daddy was okay and that my boo-boo didn't hurt (even though it most definitely did), her concern only seemed to worsen.
All throughout the night, while reading a bed time book with mom, while enjoying a fun episode of Dora the Explorer with dad, she would look at me with an exaggerated quivering lip and pouty face and say, "Daddy, I don't want you to have a boo-boo". And then she'd cry. What in the world did I just do? I think I scarred her for life!
Then, some time late into the night, while I lay in bed, it hit me. I finally made the connection between comfort and suffering, between suffering and love.
I don't think the suffering Francis spoke of had much to do with success, money or good health. Suffering doesn't mean we have to be poor, afflicted or sick. It means we hurt. It means that in us, love and suffering are one and the same, they're connected.
My little three year old taught me for the first time in my life what it means to love and suffer because of love. Jesus, help us all if we don't get this! Woe to us who feel complacent and secure in Zion...
My daughter so loves me that even the thought of daddy hurting was enough to overwhelm her soul. For her, daddy's hurt was her hurt. Daddy's pain was her pain. For her, love and suffering are naturally connected. Even if she wanted to, she can't separate the two.
After a bit of reflecting, I took a deep hard look at my own heart, the heart of a church planter. When have I loved someone so deeply that I suffered because of it? Do I suffer because of the pain in my family, in my neighborhood, in my community, in my city?
Do I suffer for the lost, the broken, the hurting, the spiritually restless, the orphan, the widow, the abused, the addict, the hungry, the poor, the rich, the depressed, the outcast, the sick, the oppressed?
Could Jesus have endured the physical suffering that he had to endure on the cross without first enduring and embracing the spiritual suffering so intimately connected to his ever-abounding love for us?
Oh, that we could have faith like a child, eyes like a child, the heart of a child. Oh, that our hearts could break for the lost and the broken, hurt for the pain in our world so much so that out of our deep and gruesome suffering would rise a compelling and divine resolve to offer hope and healing, restoration and reconciliation with the Creator God.
Are you willing for God to break your heart? Are you willing to love so deeply that the rest of your life will be filled with the suffering that Jesus feels for every single man and woman, boy and girl?
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