And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.
Matthew 24:10-13
I am a weather junkie, so naturally, I woke up early this morning to follow all the updates on the approaching winter ice storm that is coming our way. I opened up my iPad to check the local news and the first headline that popped up on my screen was, “11 dead from deadly twisters in Texas.” Traumatic pictures of tornado damage, storm debris and interviews with devastated people who lost loved ones accompanied the article. I glimpsed at it for a few seconds and then I decided to move on to the more pressing issue at hand. I had to check my local weather radar: “Boy, I hope the ice doesn’t affect my son’s basketball practice?”
And then it hit me, “Chris, you don’t you even care about those poor people? Aren’t you going to even pray for them?” I am ashamed to admit it, but a momentary thought flashed in my cerebral cortex, like a quick-shot of ice water in my veins, “Nah, I am just glad it wasn’t me.”
Oh boy, I think my heart is growing cold? To be honest, it feels like my compassion tank has been running dry for quite some time now. As a Christian pastor, how can this be? Why do I seem to be growing so callous? I think that the same dark look of indifference is affecting us all. Just look around – – people are too busy to care these days.
I have been chewing on this vexing problem a lot lately, especially when it comes to my personal prayer life. When I open up the scriptures Paul tells us to “Pray without ceasing…be devoted to the word of God and prayer…pray always.” But if you are like me, you know this does not really describe what is really happening in most Christian’s lives.
I think the primary cause of a lack of prayer is from “our love growing cold”: Lack of compassion, major shortfalls in mercy and a dearth of real pity across the cultural landscape. When you really care, you pray; it is indifference that breeds spiritual laziness, And Americans are indifferent.
And then it hit me, “Chris, you don’t you even care about those poor people? Aren’t you going to even pray for them?” I am ashamed to admit it, but a momentary thought flashed in my cerebral cortex, like a quick-shot of ice water in my veins, “Nah, I am just glad it wasn’t me.”
Oh boy, I think my heart is growing cold? To be honest, it feels like my compassion tank has been running dry for quite some time now. As a Christian pastor, how can this be? Why do I seem to be growing so callous? I think that the same dark look of indifference is affecting us all. Just look around – – people are too busy to care these days.
I have been chewing on this vexing problem a lot lately, especially when it comes to my personal prayer life. When I open up the scriptures Paul tells us to “Pray without ceasing…be devoted to the word of God and prayer…pray always.” But if you are like me, you know this does not really describe what is really happening in most Christian’s lives.
I think the primary cause of a lack of prayer is from “our love growing cold”: Lack of compassion, major shortfalls in mercy and a dearth of real pity across the cultural landscape. When you really care, you pray; it is indifference that breeds spiritual laziness, And Americans are indifferent.
So the deeper issue at stake is to stop indifference. But how do we do that? I offer one suggestion:
Providential Proximity ________________________
I first heard of this teaching while I was attending a lecture on Kantian Ethics at Calvin College’s January Series. The instructor was discussing an ethical dilemma that he was confronted with the previous week. While sitting in church, a missionary from Zaire was recounting how one dollar in American money would feed a family for a week. One little dollar, a meal for a family of six. The man said it was a very sobering presentation.
Immediately after church ended, the man took a walk with his grandson to the local park. As they were walking down the sidewalk, an ice-cream vendor was selling various delicious frozen treats. As he went to buy an orange popsicle, the vendor said, “That will be one dollar.” One dollar for a popsicle? Or should I take that one dollar to feed a family of six?
What should a godly, caring, compassionate, and of course a righteous Christian steward do? Guilt screams at you, “Don’t buy the popsicle you rich American snob!” But it is your grandson? Can’t you treat him to a simple Sunday summer treat? In fact, if you take this question to the full extent, how could any decent American even feel comfortable living in a house with central air when most people in Zaire live in cardboard shacks? Should we not all sell our savings, stocks and investments and send it to those poor hurting people?
And then the professor remembered “Providential Proximity”: an ethical mental grid that he learned from Immanuel Kant. It is a way to evaluate personal responsibility and need. Here it is in a rather rough form…
Providential Proximity ________________________
I first heard of this teaching while I was attending a lecture on Kantian Ethics at Calvin College’s January Series. The instructor was discussing an ethical dilemma that he was confronted with the previous week. While sitting in church, a missionary from Zaire was recounting how one dollar in American money would feed a family for a week. One little dollar, a meal for a family of six. The man said it was a very sobering presentation.
Immediately after church ended, the man took a walk with his grandson to the local park. As they were walking down the sidewalk, an ice-cream vendor was selling various delicious frozen treats. As he went to buy an orange popsicle, the vendor said, “That will be one dollar.” One dollar for a popsicle? Or should I take that one dollar to feed a family of six?
What should a godly, caring, compassionate, and of course a righteous Christian steward do? Guilt screams at you, “Don’t buy the popsicle you rich American snob!” But it is your grandson? Can’t you treat him to a simple Sunday summer treat? In fact, if you take this question to the full extent, how could any decent American even feel comfortable living in a house with central air when most people in Zaire live in cardboard shacks? Should we not all sell our savings, stocks and investments and send it to those poor hurting people?
And then the professor remembered “Providential Proximity”: an ethical mental grid that he learned from Immanuel Kant. It is a way to evaluate personal responsibility and need. Here it is in a rather rough form…
Two words explain it all: Providence & Proximity. Providence teaches that a Sovereign God controls the world in supreme love and goodness for all people. He sets up events and people to bring the most blessing for all. And according to Acts 17:26-27 he placed you right where he wants you; that’s proximity. If you notice, the target of your compassion and emotional equity should be directed more fully to the center: You start with your immediate family, those who live under the same four walls that you do, and then move out from there.
After you have adequately cared for those closest to you, then your care moves to those in the Church (including the missionaries you feel called to support), friends, neighbors, co-workers, and then to the community you live in. And finally, then and only then, are you ready to take on the larger, less personal issues.
I think America and our media-saturated culture, in general, has turned this model upside down. Instead of first caring for those you can directly impact, we spend all of our emotion to argue about things that really don’t affect us much at all. We argue, tweet and post articles on Facebook that really will never affect the price of eggs. We think we are doing something because we can cut and paste articles that support a liberal or conservative agenda. And then, after all our arguing is over, we have nothing left for the people that really matter.
Tell me, how can you really emotionally process all of the huge issues of the day? How can you adequately care about and fight for the lady whose son got shot in Chicago, and then care about the Syrian refugees and then give all you got to debate gun control with the common political trolls online all in the same afternoon? Sure, those are important issues — but are they more important than your own teenage son who is quietly living in a closeted world of media loneliness? And trying to figure out issues on a grand scale sooner or later will start sapping the life from your soul. You can’t deal with it, and your caring quotient will start to shut down if you are not careful. Media saturation contaminates our heart and it will begin to ice up with a hard, cold edge.
The terrible result of not respecting “Providential Proximity” is complete and utter indifference.
What can you really do about Donald Trump or Hilary? Yes, you can vote, but that is about it. All those articles you read about them will get you nowhere. So instead, take that hour you have just wasted surfing on the internet and spend it with someone God has sitting right next to you. Like your wife for instance.
If God is truly Sovereign, then he must have put them there for a purpose? And that purpose is to be loved by you!
After you have adequately cared for those closest to you, then your care moves to those in the Church (including the missionaries you feel called to support), friends, neighbors, co-workers, and then to the community you live in. And finally, then and only then, are you ready to take on the larger, less personal issues.
I think America and our media-saturated culture, in general, has turned this model upside down. Instead of first caring for those you can directly impact, we spend all of our emotion to argue about things that really don’t affect us much at all. We argue, tweet and post articles on Facebook that really will never affect the price of eggs. We think we are doing something because we can cut and paste articles that support a liberal or conservative agenda. And then, after all our arguing is over, we have nothing left for the people that really matter.
Tell me, how can you really emotionally process all of the huge issues of the day? How can you adequately care about and fight for the lady whose son got shot in Chicago, and then care about the Syrian refugees and then give all you got to debate gun control with the common political trolls online all in the same afternoon? Sure, those are important issues — but are they more important than your own teenage son who is quietly living in a closeted world of media loneliness? And trying to figure out issues on a grand scale sooner or later will start sapping the life from your soul. You can’t deal with it, and your caring quotient will start to shut down if you are not careful. Media saturation contaminates our heart and it will begin to ice up with a hard, cold edge.
The terrible result of not respecting “Providential Proximity” is complete and utter indifference.
What can you really do about Donald Trump or Hilary? Yes, you can vote, but that is about it. All those articles you read about them will get you nowhere. So instead, take that hour you have just wasted surfing on the internet and spend it with someone God has sitting right next to you. Like your wife for instance.
If God is truly Sovereign, then he must have put them there for a purpose? And that purpose is to be loved by you!
