The Purpose of Passion

A Million Little Fires

There’s something in this world that you’re passionate about, something that really stirs you to action. A cause you want to advocate for, that you’re willing to suffer for.

Maybe it’s racial reconciliation. Or the rights of people with disabilities. Maybe it’s awareness of a disease. Or evangelism. Maybe you want everyone to be aware of mental health concerns…or get people to help fund orphanages in third world countries.

All of these things are good. All of these things, and way more than I could possibly enumerate here, deserve attention and support. All of these things can be the work of the Kingdom.

But individually, we each only have so much attention. So many resources. So much time.

A few months ago, I read Jemar Tisby’s How to Fight Racism–a subject that I’m by no means an expert on, but reconciliation between all Christian, no matter color or creed or denomination, is something that’s been weighing heavier on my heart as the years go by. He had some great ideas, and it’s definitely a book worth reading…but it also left me feeling totally overwhelmed. Because Tisby was trying to make every reader decide to be an activist, an advocate for this cause. After finishing it, I sat there for a long time, just holding the book in my hands, and wondering, How am I supposed to do any of this? I want to be a part of racial reconciliation, but it’s by no means my whole life. 

This is something I’ve run into a lot over the years. Every documentary I watch, every doctor I visit, every article I read online is trying to win my passions. They’re trying to make me dedicate my time and energy to whatever cause or goal they represent. Whether it’s a small farmer’s fight against big corporate seed companies or to avoid certain foods and drinks for the health of my teeth and gums, they’re all asking for my awareness to be focused on THEM.

Do you ever feel pulled in a million good directions? Or confused by the firelight of all these different passions?

Are you ever frustrated that it seems no one cares about what’s so important to you? Annoyed when they don’t understand? Hurt at people’s lack of empathy for your situation? Angry that they just don’t get it?

I think we all do–on both counts. We are so passionate about the things that matter to us…and yet so overwhelmed by all the other things people want to matter to us.

How do we, as Christ followers, balance these million little fires of calling and passion and good causes?

Because there are two sides to this question–we as the ones who ARE passionate about something, and then we as the ones who people are trying to win to THEIR cause–we need to look at it from both sides.

First–OUR things.

I’ll start with a few personal examples: Type 1 Diabetes and writing.

Until last September, I knew essentially zero about diabetes. I had no reason to–it wasn’t a part of my life. Then it became very relevant, because it dictated so much about my day. What food I could make, how much of it I can feed my son, what ratio of carbs to insulin we needed that day, what his blood sugar is at 7, at 10, at noon, at 3, at dinner, at snack, at bedtime. What time I could go to bed. How long I could sleep before I needed to wake up and check his blood sugar again. I became very aware of the health risks associated with this disease, and what people go through daily when they live with it.

But just because I had to undergo a crash course in diabetes doesn’t mean anyone else in the world did. So when someone doesn’t get it…why should that surprise me? Why should it frustrate me when they suggest my son “just try” a food he hasn’t dosed for and can’t just eat without insulin because it’s got carbs? Why should it annoy me when they assume Type 1 is like Type 2? Why should it hurt me when no one gets it? It shouldn’t. But emotionally, it often does. I daresay you experience this with whatever issues affect your daily living. Other people just don’t get it, because it isn’t part of their life. And I see so many emotional reactions. Some people lash out. Some people become advocates, making it their life’s focus to educate others. But most of us…most of us just have to learn to balance our passions, and balance them with each other’s. I can’t expect you to care about this like I do…but when you ask a question or make an assumption or have a suggestion, I can just be grateful that you care enough to engage on the topic at all. And I can smile and respond in a loving, appreciate way.

This goes for my other passions as well. I don’t expect my readers to care like I do about the writing process. I don’t expect you to be as excited about each new project as I am. I don’t expect my stories to absorb your life and mind for months at a time like they do mine. That would be silly, right? Because you read a lot more books than just mine, as well you should. And you do a lot more in your life than read fiction. It doesn’t have to be your passion.

But here’s the job of MY passion: to use it to touch your life for God. My job isn’t to make you think of nothing but fiction or diabetes. My job is to use fiction to make you think about God and what He has in store for you. To ponder how faith should inform your life. To draw you closer to Him and inspire you to spend your life–whatever your callings and passions may be–being His ambassador to those around you. My job as the mom of a Type 1 Diabetic is to invite you to look more closely at all the people around you and treat them with compassion–because they have Something that limits them. We all do. If we can be understanding and empathetic, then how many people could we touch for God, instead of letting our ignorance of their condition hurt them or build walls between us?

That is, I believe, the purpose of all these callings we have, all the million little fires He ignites.

So then, flip it. Look at other people’s goals and callings. Yes, so often they’re trying to make us activists for their cause, but I think that’s a bit ambitious on their part. 😉 Sure, they’ll win a few converts who dedicate their whole lives to it…but most of us will only interact peripherally with each of the many causes we come across. Our response, however, shouldn’t ever be to dismiss their work. It shouldn’t be, as I experienced with How to Fight Racism, a feeling of hopelessness that we can’t do their work. It shouldn’t be frustration that one more person is demanding one more thing of us.

We should react with gratitude that God has filled their hearts with this passion to work for Him. We should ask what we can learn from them about loving those around us. We should ponder whether and how their calling fits with ours and how we can make our work also work for them. We can ask how these Kingdom-building pieces fit together in His eyes.

And if it isn’t Kingdom work? If it’s just a regular earthly cause…maybe we ask how or if it can be used for His glory before we either get involved or go on the defensive.

None of us have the capacity to care deeply about everything. But we don’t have to. As long as we care deeply for the Lord and want to love His children as He does, then which causes we choose to focus on are just building blocks in His hands. Let’s listen to each other. Let’s try to get a view of how God is using all these many flames of passion. And let’s ask how we can be part of–not this work or that work–HIS work. You use what He’s given you. I’ll use what He’s given me. We can learn from each other how best to love each other…and in so doing, we’ll be showing the world how truly to follow Him.

In II Chronicles 20, we get the story of Jehoshephat, one of the godly, faithful kings of Judah. He was a good king. He loved the Lord and sought Him in all things. But enemies were coming against them, a vast army made up of three kingdoms united for the purpose of destroying them.

Jehoshephat sought the Lord. He called the entire nation of Judah to come together for prayer and fasting. So the whole nation assembled. They prayed. They humbled themselves. They listened to the prophet, listened for and to the word of the Lord. Then came something that really struck me.

So they rose early in the morning and went out into the Wilderness of Tekoa; and as they went out, Jehoshaphat stood and said, “Hear me, O Judah and you inhabitants of Jerusalem: Believe in the Lord your God, and you shall be established; believe His prophets, and you shall prosper.” ²¹ And when he had consulted with the people, he appointed those who should sing to the Lord, and who should praise the beauty of holiness, as they went out before the army and were saying:

     “Praise the Lord,
     For His mercy endures forever.”

²² Now when they began to sing and to praise, the Lord set ambushes against the people of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who had come against Judah; and they were defeated. ²³ For the people of Ammon and Moab stood up against the inhabitants of Mount Seir to utterly kill and destroy them. And when they had made an end of the inhabitants of Seir, they helped to destroy one another.

Wow. Right? I mean, first of all, what leader–military or otherwise–of a nation do you know who not only calls the people to prayer, but who considers the first act of defense to be to assign people to praising God? What commander sends a worship team out before the army? I don’t recall any other stories offhand in the Bible where this was the order of events, and I certainly don’t recall anything in modern history quite like this. But it’s profound, isn’t it?

Look at what happens when praise leads the way! Look at how the Lord clears the path when we remember Him first, when we give Him glory in the direst of circumstances, when we fill the battlefields in our lives with songs of His mercy and might.

Those battlefields are cleared.

It certainly isn’t a magical formula. They couldn’t just assign singers and expect victory. First the people had to come together and seek God. They had to cleanse their hearts before Him. They had to listen to His word. They had to obey. They had to act in unity, following His instruction.

And when they did that, when they stepped out in perfect faith, trusting that God would deliver their enemies without them even having to fight, as the prophet promised them in verse 17 of that same chapter…when they did that, God moved in a powerful way. And He did it when their praises rang out. When they began to sing and to praise…

What happens when WE begin to sing and praise–not just because it’s the time of the service that calls for it, but in those moments when we know the greatest fear? When the enemy is surrounding us? What happens when we praise Him in our darkest moments?

What must it have been like to be one of the musicians and singers appointed for this honor? Looking at verse 21, the king consulted with the people and then chose them. I daresay he didn’t choose the greatest warriors. I don’t honestly know if he chose those with the prettiest singing voices. He chose those who WOULD sing to the Lord and praise the beauty of holiness. These were the people who led the army. Not the generals. Not the strong men. Those with hearts of praise. Those who knew the beauty of holiness, so that they could sing about it.

Oh Lord, shape my heart to be one of those people. Shape me to be so amazed and swept away by the glory of your holy name, of your perfect nature, that my first response is song. Is praise. Shape me to be the sort of person who leads the way not with weapons or strength of arm, but with my dedication to you. Shape me into a warrior of praise.

Shape me, Lord, so that then, when I lift my voice to you, I can see you at work. Because you are the mighty one who clears the battlefields for us. You are the one whose righteousness paves the way. You are the one who delivers us from all our trouble…as long as first we seek you. Humble ourselves. Cling tight to your promises.

And let praise lead us forward.

The other week while I was in Ocracoke, my morning devotional began with this passage from Acts 1:4-9 (NKJV):

⁴ And being assembled together with them, He commanded them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the Promise of the Father, “which,” He said, “you have heard from Me; ⁵ for John truly baptized with water, but you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.” ⁶ Therefore, when they had come together, they asked Him, saying, “Lord, will You at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” ⁷ And He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority. ⁸ But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

⁹ Now when He had spoken these things, while they watched, He was taken up, and a cloud received Him out of their sight.

I read that…and then read it again. And paused and blinked. And wondered how I’d never noticed that before. Did you catch it?

The very last thing the disciples are recorded as saying to Jesus…it wasn’t a question about eternity. It wasn’t begging Him for more direction on how to create a Church worthy of His name. It wasn’t something to help them seek the kingdom of God. They asked Him about politics.

“Are you going to rid Israel of Rome now, Lord?” That’s what they were asking.

Does that sound a little familiar, maybe? How often is the church today praying, “Lord, help us reclaim our country!”?

But look at Jesus’s answer. We can’t know the times. Sure, okay…but what I found really fascinating was what He went on to say. You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you’ll bear witness to ME to the ends of the earth. In my mind, a paraphrase would be, “Look, friends, stop worrying about the earthly powers and rulers and authority. That’s not your business. Here’s what you’ll soon understand, when you’re filled with the Spirit: your job is to spread the Good News. Period.”

And you know what? Never again in the Acts or the epistles do we see the disciples fretting over who’s in charge in the nation of Israel. Because immediately following this, the Holy Spirit came. Filled them.

And they knew. They finally got it. They finally, FINALLY understood that Jesus wasn’t concerned with THEIR kingdom, the nation of Israel. He was concerned with HIS.

My friends, this is still true. Jesus isn’t concerned about America-as-such or Canada-as-such or the United-Kingdom-as-such or any other country. He’s concerned with the people in those countries; He’s concerned with whether they are part of His kingdom. He’s concerned not with who was elected or appointed to or inherited a position here on earth, but on whether we’re dedicating ourselves to bringing the kingdom of Heaven near. Yes, He uses those countries, just as He did Israel. They may embody certain things or represent aspects of His will or serve as an example. But our kingdoms and countries are just grains of sand in the glass of His eternity–quickly come, quickly gone. We think the very world will rise and fall with them…but it doesn’t. Because His kingdom is so much bigger.

We tend to shake our heads at the disciples in the Gospels, don’t we, when they ask again and again about whether Jesus is a warrior king? But we do it too. We want Him to ride in on the proverbial white stallion and set everything to rights. We want Him to fix THIS world, our world, to get rid of the evil and put good people in power. We want Him to avenge the wrongs and establish His just and righteous kingdom NOW.

But I imagine He would answer us just as He did the Twelve. “The Holy Spirit shall fill you. And you shall bear witness to Me.”

That’s the answer to whether He’ll rule this world. That’s ALL the answer needs to be. How do we fix the physical world? By focusing on the spiritual one. How do we bring hope to the here-and-now? By fixing our eyes on eternity. How do we help our countries? By praying and working toward the coming of His kingdom. If we make our goals winning hearts for Him and aligning our lives to His will, then the world will change, just as it has done before. But the answers aren’t found in the earthly courts or government buildings. The answers are found in knowing that He is bigger, longer, wider, older, yet newer than any earthly law or government could ever be.

He rules our kingdoms only when we let Him rule our hearts; but when we let Him rule our hearts, we soon see the truth: His kingdom will come only when we love selflessly, sacrificially, when we’re willing to love our enemies, when we offer ourselves for them, just as He did for us.

Let’s love like that. Let’s take that love into the world and bear witness of Him. Then we’ll see His kingdom come.

“I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called.”
~ Ephesians 4:1 (NKJV)

Walk worthy of the calling.

This is a phrase that’s been lingering in my heart and mind for the last year, ever since I really began studying those opening verses of Ephesians 4. How do we do that? How do we walk worthy of the calling of being a Christ-follower?

Well first there’s the idea of walking. Walking is an ACTION. More, it’s one of the most common actions we take. It’s something we do every day. We walk. We walk to each thing we’re doing, through each thing we’re doing. We walk out our faith, our beliefs. But walking is still WORK. It uses up energy. It involves the whole body. Walking with God means that we’re working alongside Him, engaged in active communication with Him. Much like in the opening chapters of Genesis, right? Adam and Eve walked with God. Enoch walked with God before he was taken up to haven.

But Paul doesn’t just instruct us here to walk. He qualifies it. We need to walk in a particular way: worthy. Like, we can all walk, stride along, living out what we think is good. Everyone does that, whether Christian or not. What’s special about our walk? What makes it worthy?

The calling. We’re not just called to do our own thing. We’re not just called to have our own opinions. We’re not just called to make money or accomplish what we dream of. We’re called to be Christ to the world. 

In church, we’ve been reading through I Clement (not part of the cannon but one of the earliest Christian writings; a letter from the leaders of the Church in Rome to the Church in Corinth). In the chapter we read last week, Clement drew on this same phrase. He calls out the Corinthians, who had been pursuing selfish ambitions and had ejected good men from leadership for these ambitious reasons, not because of any actual complaint against them, that they were proving themselves “unworthy of their Christian profession.”

Now, profession here means that they have professed Christ–they’ve claimed Him. But I think our modern idea of a profession being a vocation or job actually adds some interesting understanding. Because the thing we profess to do or be becomes a huge part of our lives, right? We introduce ourselves with it. We think in terms of it. It defines quite a lot about us. Christ need to be what we profess most. We need to be Christian above and before writer, homemaker, lawyer, accountant, teacher, engineer, farmer, vet, dentist, driver, or whatever. Because whether we put it first or not, others know we have claimed it. And they judge CHRIST according to what WE do.

Yep, lots of pressure there. WE are how the world sees Jesus. WE give Christianity a good or bad name. So if we’re more concerned with how we’re treated than in how we’re treating other…if we spend more time serving ourselves than them…if we only love our own and not our enemies…then we are giving Jesus a bad name. We’re unworthy of that profession of being His. We’re not walking worthy of the calling.

Now, HOW we walk out that greater calling is going to look different for each of us…and it’s going to get into the particulars that each of us are called to do. Whatever you’re called to do–to teach or create or make music or minister to the poor or encourage others, etc–you’re called to do in a way that’s worthy of Him. A way that glorifies Him. A way that points to Him.

So are we? Are we living out our callings in a way that’s worthy of Him? 

This is something we tend to notice pretty quickly in others…let’s take some time to examine the question for us. 

I’d love to hear what everyone here is called to do! What calling are you walking out now, and what dreams do you hold in your heart?

Last week my husband was reading The Picture of Dorian Gray — a book that neither of us had read before, though we assumed we knew what it was about. Turns out our preconceptions were a bit off, LOL. As he was reading, he would update me on what was going on in the story and the thoughts he had about it (those first chapters were just FULL of quotables!). And at one point, as the title character was drawn into the corrupt world of indulgence and hedonism by the point of view character, David said, “You know, Oscar Wilde makes it really understandable. Because vice looks so interesting. And virtue looks so boring.”

He likes to say these sorts of things to goad me, LOL.

Well, I was quick with a comeback this time: “No–imitation of virtue is boring. Real virtue is absolutely fascinating.”

I may have come up with it as an off-the-cuff retort, but it settled in my spirit. Because I think it’s so very true.

We’re living in a culture that was built on Christian ideals, and though said culture has shifted away from those values, they’re still present enough to be recognizable…but also to be undesirable by so many. Why? Because generally speaking virtues are pitched to us as a bunch of negatives: don’t drink, don’t curse, don’t overindulge, don’t be prideful, don’t be vain, don’t be selfish, don’t lie, don’t have sex, don’t party, don’t…don’t…don’t…

We all know what human nature says to a list of Don’ts though, right?

Here’s the thing, though. Virtue isn’t about what we don’t do. It’s about what we do. This is what I absolutely love about reading the Gospels–Jesus, too, lived in a society that was all about the Don’t. And He shook it up by focusing instead on the Do. Do good on the Sabbath. Go the extra mile. Give more than people demand. Love your enemy. Love your neighbor. Be born of the Spirit.

Real virtue looks like doing the illogical thing for love. Real virtue looks like crazy selflessness in order to demonstrate who Christ is. Real virtue looks like choosing the radical way instead of the fashionable way.

And that, my friends, is fascinating indeed. Christ didn’t have crowds of thousands following him because he was boring, or because of the things he didn’t do. He had people following him everywhere he went because of what he was doing. He was healing, casting our demons, making a feast out of a famine. He was challenging people to demand more of themselves, to go a step further, to not just ACT right (imitation) but to BE right (in their hearts).

Where are we just imitating the right actions today but not really meaning them? Where are we just saying the words without actually living them out? Where are we content with having a portrait of faith in our lives instead of a live-action version?

Following the rules for the sake of being a rule-follower doesn’t ever change the world. And isn’t really virtue. It’s just an imitation. A counterfeit.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to have a counterfeit faith, an imitation of faith. I don’t want to face my Savior at the End and have him say, “But what did you do? Who among the outcasts did you love? Who saw Me through you?” I don’t want people to look at me, wrinkle their nose, and say, “Man, being a Christian looks boring.”

Being a Christian should be edge-of-your-seat excitement. Because it should mean going where others are afraid to go, doing what most people would never do, living on faith instead of “security.” Being a Christian should be completely fascinating to those who aren’t (yet). If instead they’re looking at us and calling us boring…maybe we’re doing it wrong. Maybe we’re not really living out the true virtues of Christ…maybe we’re just a faded imitation.

Where do we need God to breathe some life into our faith today?