The World at Our Doorstep

Do you ever ponder the question, “What are my obligations as a believer?”

To what extent are we called to be our brother’s keeper?  Some time ago, I was having a discussion with a fellow believer about our obligations to the poor.  The passage we were speaking on in particular is found in Luke 16:19-31

   In this piece of scripture, Jesus tells a story about a certain rich man, who lived in luxury everyday.  He wore fine clothes and had plenty to eat.  At his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus.  Lazarus lay there day after day, just hoping to get some of the rich man’s table scraps.  Eventually, they both died.  The poor man ended up with father Abraham, and the rich man descended down to Hades.

  During our discussion, I made mention of the fact that this poor man laid at the gates of the rich man day after day, waiting for scraps.  I don’t believe that we are required to change the world, but I believe firmly that we are called to meet the needs that are presented to us. 

  The response I got went something like this;

“Yes.  But in our day, the world is so much smaller.  The things that we do here can affect people around the world.”

   I don’t know about you, but I’m just not able to change the whole world.  If you are able to have an active presence in Honduras, Haiti, South Africa, Somalia, Ethiopia, Pakistan and India, I’m happy for you.  I truly am.  I for one am not able to meet the needs of every living person around the globe.  Perhaps the lady was right.  Perhaps we are responsible for the whole of the world.  My thinking however remains the same.  We’re responsible to respond to the needs that are brought before us.

   That being said, when the world does show up at your doorstep, then it’s time to deal with the world.  There are times when this very thing comes to pass; where needs from across the globe are brought to our very own doorstep.

   It hasn’t been finalized, but it looks like my old church will be hosting an evening to try and do what they can to help some of the world’s hungriest people in Africa.  It looks like it will be held on Aug 27^th at around 7:00pm.  If there is any interest, I'll try and give more details later.

  I won’t tell you that you’re going to hell if you don’t show up.  It doesn’t quite work that way.  Neither will I hold up Christ’s love for the poor as some example by which to follow.  If we do absolutely nothing to respond to the needs which are brought before us, the problem isn’t our inactivity.  The principle at work looks more like this:

  The lives we live reveal our spiritual identity.

   This is foundational to the Christian faith.  Technically, we aren’t required to do anything.  The question at hand should be as follows;  If we have absolutely no concern for those needs which are brought before us, how can the love of God reside in us?  Jesus didn’t come to show us the way or to teach us the way.  He was, in Himself, the way.  If we have found in Him the way to card carrying citizenship into the kingdom of God, then there will be at least something which cares.  We should at least be willing to look at that sickly man, without turning the channel, closing the window or shutting the door behind us.

  I don’t believe God asks us to do what we cannot do.  Neither does he expect us to deal with needs which have never been brought to our attention.  What He detests, is when we turn a blind eye and when we intentionally avoid looking at and responding to the needs which lie at our very own doorstep.

 

Another Blog about Amy Winehouse

  This past week, the entertainment world has lost another one of her own. We’re seldom surprised to hear news like this. Even though these kind of events have little shock value, death never fails to prompt us to ask the questions, “How could this happen? Why wasn’t something done about this?”


  After looking closer at this particular story, it appears that there were people in her life who tried to address the imminent self destruction.

  The conventional wisdom of our day goes something like this;

  “When it’s apparent that the person can’t go a day without ‘the drug’, be it alcohol, powder or a pill, that’s when it’s time for intervention”.

  I don’t know how it happens, but often, people who think like me tend to come across as being judgmental and mean for saying that a person should never walk down that road to begin with. If I were to go hardcore against drug and alcohol use, you’d write me off as being a cold hearted republican wouldn’t you?

  I believe that every person has the God given right to self destruct. I also believe that they have the right to ruin the lives of those who love them in the process.

  The world around us doesn’t even pretend to care until an individual is caught in the throes of addiction. How is it that I’m the mean one for saying that we should never head down that path in the first place? Could someone explain it to me? Personally, I believe that a culture which celebrates sex drugs and rock’n roll is much more hateful.

  None of us live a spotless life, but is it such a bad thing to hold lift up a standard that is pure and above reproach?

  I have a friend who is going through some rough times in his home life. Let’s face it. We all have issues. Since I’m one of those judgmental Christian types, I made the point of telling him, “Bobby. I know it’s tough. I just encourage you to resist the urge to ‘reach for the bottle’. You don’t want any kind of substance, be it a drug, or even food, to become that thing you turn to when life gets tough. If you want I’d be glad to have you over for supper and we could pray over you and your family.”

  My friend never took me up on the offer. Maybe he thought I was trying to control him or something. I understand that in our world, lifting up a standard of holiness seems to have the appearance of a system of control. I just don’t see it that way.

    As far as what should be done once a person has begun to walk down that road, I'm sure you have all the answers.  Rehab works.  Right?

Why It's Called "Alien Love" - Part II

Last week, I had shared with you some concerns for my latest manuscript.

 Had I made a target of a people who I intended to help? That was the question which plagued me for days. Was I that very messenger of damnation to a people who I hoped to help? How could I ever find out?


   I don’t see homosexuals on a regular basis. The funny part is that in my life, the people who say the rudest things, the people who call them the meanest names, and the people who make the most fun at their expense are the same people who say there’s nothing wrong with practicing sodomy. Is that not ironic? Maybe it’s different in your world.

  So where does one get feedback from a homosexual? There is that one guy who used to work at a restaurant.   Do I just walk into his place of work and say, “Hi BillyBob. I can tell that you’re gay by the way you talk. Would you please read my book?”

  Some time earlier, I heard mention of an organization called the Gay Christian Network. Up until recently, I had never heard of such a creature. I sat down one evening and e-mailed them this request;


Dear GCN;

It breaks my heart to see how many of you have been beaten down, both in the world and by the church. I don’t want to be one of those voices.

I am a Canadian author. Although I’m not writing a book on homosexuality, it does touch on the topic. Would you be willing to read the first chapter for me? I’m not a well known author, but I do have the potential to hurt those who read what I write and I really don’t want to do that.

Please don’t expect me to approve of embracing the homosexual lifestyle. What I want to know is this; Can you see the love in it? Does this address you with respect?

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Love Kevin



  I received a return e-mail asking to connect by phone. About one week later, I answered a call that has since consumed much of my thought life. His name is Justin Lee; the founder of GCN itself. I told him that I might not tell my friends I was talking to him. After asking “Why?”, I assured him, “Don’t worry. It’s not because you’re gay. I don’t know quite how to put this, but, unfortunately, you’re an……American.”

  After hearing his laugh, I was left with the impression that he had a decent sense of humour. Or maybe he has developed thick skin. I guess that comes from being constantly told that you’re going to hell. I would hate to have to pay his phone bill, because we talked for what seemed like two or three hours.

  If I were to take apart the entire conversation, I would have to write an entire book on our time together. I guess I’d have to call it, “Interview with the Homosexual”. Much of our time together was spent in sharing our own stories.

  There are many realities in life which speak against our own perception. I often say that truth isn’t a thing to be fought against. Fighting against truth has a tendency to consume the whole of us, because it turns out to be an unending battle in which we ultimately find ourselves to be defeated. During our conversation, Justin shared with me a reality that I had to come to terms with myself. This is what he said,

  “Kevin, when reading your chapter, I see the love in it. I really do. What you need to realize is this; most people won’t, especially within the homosexual community. So many have been hurt, that even though you are speaking in love, they won’t recognize it.”

  His words really challenged me. This thing that I had written didn’t have the appearance of its nature. It was like a girl who looked like a boy. It looked like beef, and tasted like chicken. What I heard was this, “It is love, even though it doesn’t sound like love.”

  Since that time, I have made a few changes to the text, not so much in the substance, but I hope to the tone of it. I have had to accept the reality that the world likely won’t embrace this thing that I have written. I have to accept that few will read it and say, “Wow. That was a great book about love!” I expect hear more responses which echo something such as, “Isn’t this supposed to be a book about love?”

  As believers, we often desire to make positive change in this violent and dying world. Seldom do we experience such a difference in any tangible or measureable form. I had hoped to have written something that would inspire others towards the love of God. Instead, according to the feedback I have thus far, it’s a work which has the appearance of something else.

Something foreign.

Something alien.

Why it's Called "Alien Love" - Part 1

  I never venture out to be the kind of guy who actively challenges the world around him, but somehow, on occasion, that’s exactly what I end up doing.  I prefer to live my life thinking that I’m ‘normal’.  I eat toast for breakfast.  I drive a Ford Focus to work and I fix cars for a living.  By most standards, I always think myself as living a rather plain life; the highlight being taking my son for a drive through the car wash.

   So when I wrapped up my last manuscript, I expected little in the way of a response.  In my own estimation, I thought it to be the kind of book that has already been written.  I expected to hear, “That’s just like this other book about love that I read last week.”  If met with disappointment, I anticipated hearing, “I’ve heard all of this before.”

  I still think as much.  It isn’t ground breaking in any way.  Last fall, I allowed one of my friends to have a peek at the manuscript.  Without giving away his identity, he is someone who writes a bit himself.  I value his opinion, not because he writes, but because I trust him to be on the level with me. 

  Whenever I speak with him, I really should bring a tape recorder so that I can remember our conversation in detail.  These may not be his exact words, but this is what I took away from our conversation,

“After reading the first chapter, it doesn’t really sound like a book about love.  I don’t even feel compelled to read more.”

  As we spoke further, he commented on how I brought up the practise of homosexuality.  I’m very sorry if it offends you, but I really don’t advocate anal sexual intercourse.  I think it’s dirty.  (quite literally)   He went on to ask me,

“Why would you target a people who are already a target?”

   My gut response was one of offense.  I wasn’t targeting anybody.  In fact, I think I’ve been growing a sincere love for the homosexual community more as I grow in Christ.  Part of what motivates me is the thought that I might be able to help.  I had been unjustly accused for an uncommitted crime of intent.  There was no smear campaign.  I wasn’t calling up my MP to ban gay marriage.  I think proctitis should be enjoyed by everyone who wants it.

  It hurt.  It hurt me to think that I might be hateful.  It also hurt to think that I might be a voice of torment for the very people I hoped to help.  I had believed myself to have written a book which fell well within the accepted boundaries of authentic love.  My friend was telling me that it really didn’t even sound much like love al all.  What was I to do?

Missing THEM

  I haven’t been writing anything new for some time now. I’ve been spending the lion’s share of my time trying to refine my next book. Although much of my time is spent looking at language and punctuation, the bulk of my thought life has roamed in a separated land.


  When you hear a particular song, does it ever take you back to a certain phase in your life? About three weeks ago, my ear caught on to Wherever You Will Go, by The Calling. It’s not a Christian song, but its sentiment captures a part of my life that I can’t seem to escape, even if I wanted to.

Remember That One Time, When I Did That One Thing…

  If you knew me between 2000 and 2005, you might have referred to me as being a volunteer youth pastor. In many ways, I saw myself as such. I was a newer believer at the time and looking back, I had never known the love of Christ until I met THEM. I had of course loved my family and I had loved my friends. I had not, however, loved His people.

  It’s difficult to explain who THEY are. I can’t call them youth; not now, and neither did I identify them as such back then. THEY are just THEM. I hope THEY know who THEY are. In my time with THEM, I had the audacity to believe that I would in some way be able to follow THEM throughout life. No matter where THEY went, I’d find a way to be there.

  Over the past 3 weeks, I have had to wrestle with both reality and hope. There are many realities of this life which prove themselves to be intolerable. The intolerable reality is that I am not able to go wherever THEY go. My heart still aches when THEY are down. I still rejoice when I hear from THEM. I simply find myself incapable of being everything that my soul desperately longs to be for THEM.

  The hope I cling to rests it the knowledge that God’s Spirit is at work in those who know Him, and that we share in an inheritance which is kept beyond decay and thievery.

  I hope it’s okay for a Christian to be sad, because I am. I am not terribly sad. It is not that I have lost a loved one, either to the jaws of death or to a life of sin. It is a general melancholy, born out of some inconvenient truth.

  I often wonder if I will ever be able to love a people the way I love THEM ever again. The first 5 years of this millennium have proven to be 5 years which seem to, at least in some way, define my life. I don’t suppose I shall ever rejoice in the fact that I am unable to go wherever THEY will go. I’m not even sure if I am supposed to be happy about this one small’ish injustice of life.

  There are many aspects of my ministry that one might call into question. You may feel free to question the accuracy of my theology. You may bring my actions under scrutiny. You may accuse me of either being too legalistic or too worldly. Do not accuse me of losing my love for THEM.

  If I could, then I would go wherever THEY go. If I haven’t been there for you, it isn’t because I don’t love you anymore. It’s because I really can’t.