Street Meeting Twenty Second

There have been many times when I would judge the day to be insignificant, concluding that remaining comfortably in my home after the worship service would be entirely appropriate. My mind is quick to offer excuses—going out in this heat would be torture, I have just given a message to the sheep, or the usual indifference of the people. Yet, these are the very same days that leave me filled with gratitude that I did not heed my own excuses and stepped out into the field anyway. I am reminded that we are poor judges of the Lord's timing. The days I am most tempted to settle into the shade are often the days God has appointed for the light to shine through our witness. We step out in weakness, often against our own inclinations, only to find that the field was ready and waiting for the sower to simply appear.

Luke 19:28-44

After the midday gathering, I knelt before the LORD in my study, spreading my soul out before Him in utter helplessness. I was pressed in my spirit as to how I can rightly divide the morning’s text—the triumphal entry of our King into Jerusalem—to the souls gathered at the park that afternoon. Though the message was both expository in its truth and experiential in its depth, I found myself, as always, at a loss. I am entirely dependent upon the grace of God, knowing that without His leading, the words would be but empty air.

It was in prayer that the Spirit opened the Scriptures further. In that moment, a sharp, evangelistic edge was realized within the text. When the hour came to speak, I was assisted with a power not my own. The delivery shifted into a desperate and most affectionate plea. Just as the Lord wept over Jerusalem because the things belonging to their peace were hidden from their eyes, I felt a holy grief for the people before me. I pleaded with the gathered audience, imploring them not to harden their hearts in this hour of visitation. I prayed they would see the dire reality of their situation and turn, even now, to the Christ who calls them to Himself. The burden of the word no longer rested upon my own shoulders; it was as if the Lord’s own grieving heart was sounding its lament through this weakly vessel.

I had a strong impression before we left that the things which had fueled my anxiety all week would simply not come to pass. I realized then that the work of the Lord is incomparably more important than the sum of my worries. I stand on the side of Truth, and my Lord still has lost sheep out there waiting to be found. I found myself sympathizing with that great man of God, who once hid in a cave in the grip of fear and exhaustion. Yet, he was not permitted to remain; he was sent back out into the field to finish the work. My fears were but a shadow, and the mission was the reality. My anxieties had no power to stall the Gospel, and the anxiety of what I assume would happen was a small price to pay for the privilege of being the voice that calls the wanderer home. I stepped out not because I felt strong, but because the Master of the harvest had commanded it, and his work outweighs every burden I could ever carry.

This line we so often fear is not a barrier to keep us back, but a threshold to be crossed in order to strip away our self-reliance. It is the place where our own strength and logic fail, forcing us to lean entirely upon the power of the Holy Spirit. Once we step across that boundary, we discover then that the strength we required was never truly missing. It was simply held in reserve, waiting for us when we finally make the first step. It is in the very act of obedience that the power is provided. We often wait for the feeling of strength before we move, but the Lord frequently waits for the movement before He grants the strength. Crossing that line is the moment everything we believe in faith are traded for the reality of His all-sufficient grace.

A life that is void of power is often a life that is too careful to share in the humiliation of Christ. It may be a life of morality, but the lost person beside you benefits nothing from it. To desire the victory of the crown without the reproach of the cross is to be ignorant of this truth: that the Spirit’s fire falls most often where the world pours its contempt.

When we guard our reputation too closely, we inadvertently build a fortress that keeps out the very power we are asking for. The humiliation of standing in a crowded market or sharing the Gospel with strangers in a public park—being viewed as a nuisance and a spectacle—is the very environment where self-reliance dies and divine grace takes over. A Christian's growth is stunted without the willingness to be fools for Christ’s sake. To avoid the sting of public rejection is to miss the sweetness of His private approval. If we will not stand with Him in His rejection by men, we cannot expect to move with Him in His power over the hearts of men. It is in pleading with the dead and blind on behalf of a kingdom we ourselves have yet to see that the vessel is emptied of self and filled with the Spirit of the Lord.

I realize this truth every time we take our stand in the public square. The souls who heard the name and work of Christ that day would never have heard it had we chosen to remain at ease in the comfort of our homes. This day stands as a testament to that necessity. Our good Father both rebuked my hesitation and encouraged the spirits of the beloved by surrounding us with fish that lingered—souls who stayed from the moment we began until the final word was spoken. It was as if the Lord had hedged them in, quieting the distractions of the world so they might be arrested by the proclamation of the Truth. In my reluctance, I had seen only an uneventful afternoon; in His sovereignty, He showed me the lost. 

I have always held the conviction that it is not we, as mere men, who are performing the work; rather, it is the Spirit of the Lord working through His church. It is only when one actually begins the labor—stepping out from hesitation—that the blessings manifest into reality. These mercies reveal themselves in tremendous ways, far exceeding the narrow expectations of our own minds.

I am the LORD your God...Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.

Psalm 81:10

Our God is not only able to give grace, but exceeding amounts of grace—a flood of divine strength so potent that the weak who simply obey are made strong in the heat of the battle. Yet, there is a sobering side to this economy of the Kingdom. To those who are too careful, who hoard their lives and their comfort in fear of the cost, even the little they have is taken from them. That weight of glory is instead given to those who, despite their trembling, go forth to bear the most fruit. The Master rewards the bold stroke of faith, turning our meager obedience into an eternal harvest, while the "careful" soul finds only the emptiness of what might have been.

It is a profound thing to speak to the people, but it is equally encouraging to receive strength from them in return. Once in a long while, amidst the weariness of continuous labor, the Lord graciously grants rest to our souls by sending these hurting sheep in the midst of the crowd. These beloved ones often come from congregations that do not feed them well; they remain in stalls of religion, unaware that their spirits have grown thin and malnourished. They have been fed not with the bread from Heaven, but with the empty husks produced by the minds of men.

In the vastness of the vineyard, I am reminded that there are not only lost sheep, but also hurting sheep—and even those who have wandered far into backslidings. Every one of them stands in desperate need of the healing balm of the Gospel. He is the good Doctor of the sick, and Father to the fatherless.

When the truth is finally spoken in its purity, it acts as both a feast and a medicine. To see their spirits revive upon hearing the Master’s words is a mercy that pays back every ounce of sweat spent in the sun. We go to call the lost, but in His kindness, the Lord uses the hurting to remind us why we must never stop sowing.

We kept offering up praises and thanksgivings to the LORD on our way home, our hearts overflowing with the evidence of His grace. Arriving just in time to gather once again with the beloved brethren for our daily evening family worship. The same Spirit who gave power for the day's message now gave quiet rest for the soul.