One Bold Question I Dare You to Ask

I spend a lot of time thinking about other people – thinking about them and praying for them.

Doesn’t that sound lovely and spiritual? It’s not.

To be fair, I’m not completely unloving – to the credit of the work Jesus has done in my life these fifty-some years, but my soul is quite the long-term renovation project.

My friend, Jim Rubart, wrote a book called Rooms about a man who inherits a house that turns out to be a manifestation of his soul. I was thinking about that while sitting in the 120-year-old relentless money-pit renovation project we inhabit.

Good bones. That’s what people say when they take a tour. Great bones. Solid lines. Character. History. “Would they live here?” “Nooooo, no way,” they chuckle as they wave good-bye and head home to a place with no exposed walls and sound wiring.

Somewhere, my life took a turn and walked into a Rubart novel.

Like my home, I have some strong features and a sturdy foundation on which to build, but I’m a long way from livable. So, 

while I spend a lot of time thinking about and praying for other people, much of that sounds like this:

“Lord, make her a better person. Easier to love. Less annoying.” “Father, help him see ways he could treat me kinder and be more generous with loving words.” “Jesus, bless them, please, and send a miracle their way so I don’t have to live any longer with the discomfort of thinking I should inconvenience myself and actually do something to alleviate their situation.”

Those aren’t the words I use, of course, because I’m not a complete fool, but believe me, when the translation comes through in glory, I’m not kidding anyone, but me.

So, during worship this weekend, Jesus decided to do some work in my heart. Our bold and fearless pastor preached a strong sermon on a challenging passage. Ephesians 5:21-6:9. Oh yeah, the submission passage, baby. He went for it because he’s a man who has his fears properly ordered – God first, everyone else second. He teaches through a book of the Bible without skipping the offensive bits.

As a preacher who rightly handles the Word of God, he emphasized the message of mutual submission in this passage and painted a thought-provoking image of what it would be like if God build a community in our midst of people who were committed to submitting to one another. I started thinking about people in the congregation who should really take that sermon to heart.

That’s when Jesus interrupted my regularly scheduled programming with a news flash. “Daughter of mine, you have my permission to spend some time considering how this passage may apply to you.”

What? Me? I’m the poster girl for submission! I work with others just fine. I certainly don’t demand to have everything my way. I mean, maybe in my younger days I struggled, but I not only live this passage, I teach it to others. What do I need to work on from this sermon?

And that’s when He hit me where I live and breathe – “Why don’t you ask someone close to you if there are ways you could improve at living this passage?”

Ahhh, I countered the Almighty. That’s a great idea! I think I’ll blog about that and suggest that we all begin to make a practice of asking those closest to us how we might improve at living the passage taught in church that morning. Great idea, God.

Ahem.

Okay. Fine. I guess I’ll – you know – try it first.

You’d think it would have been easy – this asking part. I really don’t think it’s a glaring problem area in my life, but I’m feeling stretched thin these days. Worn out. Pulled in a dozen directions and not very good at self-protection right now. Why let myself be even more vulnerable?

Right. I’ve been trying to rely on God for protection and not my own devices. Okay, fine. As I sat beside my husband on the porch, I tried to anticipate his answer, but finally decided just to – you know – obey God.

“Hey, honey?”

“Yes?”

“Pastor spent a long time teaching on that Ephesians passage this morning and it got me thinking.”

I noticed him tense up. “Yeah?”

“Are there ways you think I could do a better job at living that passage?”

He stopped rocking and looked at me like I might be having some sort of episode. He wrinkled his eyebrows, but then he smiled. “No, actually. You do a great job in that area. Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to stay open,” I replied as I exhaled.

It’s funny how terrifying it was to open myself up to that, but it was a powerful experience to ask that question. It reminded me how vulnerable we all are to one another. It made me reflect on how hard I try and how much I hoped for mercy from Rob in answering. And it was a cautionary wake-up call to how easy it is to slip into the habit of outsourcing the application of scripture to how everyone else ought to be doing it.

I think, if I can continue to exercise bravery, I’m going to make a habit of this question.

How about you? Are you brave enough to turn to the people closest to you after worshiping this weekend and ask, “Are there ways you think I could do a better job of living that Bible passage?”

How would it change the lunchtime conversation if we opened with that? How might it change our characters, families, congregations, communities, the world?

At the very least, it puts a cramp in the time I spend assessing other people’s lives and considering ways to hint that they should be applying this week’s sermon. That alone should improve the community in my corner of the world. How about you?

One Bold Question I Dare You to Ask https://t.co/7YsYnoYP0Y #Jesus #amwriting #Church

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 19, 2018