There is this Robert Munsch story called The Boy in the Drawer that was a part of my Canadian childhood. It is about this miniature boy that pesters and reeks havoc in the life of a little girl. Every time she gets mad at him and tells him to go away he grows a little. Finally at the end of the book (spoiler alert) the little girl and her mom and dad realize that when they show love to the boy he shrinks – so they shower him with affection until he completely disappears.
I have a cynic in me that acts a lot like that little boy. It grows and growls loud and obnoxious or it shrinks and become powerless, depending on my perspective.
Brokenness has been on prominent display in the wake of the mass shooting in Parkland, Florida: the brokenness of individuals, systems, governments and societies. When it comes to the debate about gun control in the US, I just don’t get it. As a Canadian I don’t get it. As a Christian I don’t get it. It completely boggles my mind. And as I watch people fighting and posturing and rail-roading efforts toward justice with their own self-interest the cynic in me grows and grows and grows. I am extremely pessimistic when it comes to our human systems. I know some people feel called to fight within politics, but I just can’t be one of those people; although I have convictions that affect the way I view politics, I feel an overwhelming hopelessness and cynicism on the political front.
But the cynic in me shrinks and the hope in me increases when I take my eyes off of the man-made systems and catch a vision of the Kingdom of God. It’s like Elisha’s servant who is filled with despair as he looks out at the vast army surrounding them; it looks impossible until Elisha prays for his servants eyes to be opened and he is then able to see God’s invisible army all around (2 Kings 6:15-17).
We see this duality in the life of the prophets of the Bible all the time. They deeply mourned and even despaired of the brokenness they saw around them. They communicated messages of gloom and destruction. There is an aspect in which knowing God’s good heart shines a big bright spotlight on all that is wrong and broken. But always, at some point, God gave the prophets a vision of what restoration looked like. He always offered hope like an olive branch. Which is why in the midst of some of the most depressing books of prophecy in the Old Testament we have some of the most compelling pictures of hope lived out and seeping into all aspects of life.
On the other side of the Old Testament prophets Jesus breaks into human suffering and suffers the brokenness right along with us, all the while pointing us to the Kingdom of God, declaring the “year of the Lord’s favour”, jubilee, restoration. Jesus said the Kingdom of God was near and He said the Kingdom of God was here. Jesus died and rose again and He sits on the throne – everything is under his feet. He invites us to live in the upside-down reality of His reign. Where love motivates rather then fear. Where serving and sacrificing is the way to impact rather than position and posturing. Where giving up ones life is the way to actually find it. Where the poor, hungry, humble, weak, grief-stricken, peace-makers and persecuted are actually the blessed ones. No matter the earthly kingdom we find ourselves in, this is the beautiful reality that Jesus calls us to live out of.
We live in this tension – the already/not yet of the Kingdom of God. We mourn the brokenness and pray fervently for His will to be done on earth as at is in heaven. And we let the vision that Jesus gives of a world permeated with the power of the gospel motivate us toward the realization of it as we cling to the promise that he will be with us always and move in the power of the Spirit, operating in God’s economy.
I love the images of jubilee and shalom in the OT, and Zechariah’s vision of the old people hanging out while the kids frolic and play. I love the vision that Jesus cast as he preached on the side of the mountain and as he prayed on his last night before his death. I love how Paul called time and again for the Church to live out unity in all of their diversity. I love how John painted a picture of every tribe and tongue and nation worshipping around the throne of Jesus. I love that in the early church people sold everything and no one had need, that the Ephesians adopted abandoned babies, and that the gospel defied all the social cast systems of that day.
And I am inspired by the vision of the Kingdom that I see as individuals, in the power of the Spirit, live it out despite the governing laws and politics around them. I have friends who are punching human slavery in the gut as they slay the power of porn addiction in their lives or bring flowers and dignity and all their care to prostitutes in red light districts in SE Asia. I know people who put not just their money but all their resources where their mouths are, valuing human life enough to care for mothers in crisis rather than shaming them, and to foster and adopt so that there are other options. I’ve seen those who are moving in to rough neighbourhoods rather than moving out of them; people who have committed to teach in the rough schools in rough neighbourhoods with rough kids; people who have sponsored refugees. I have friends who work in microfinance projects and skills training so that people can leave the poverty cycle. I have heard story after story of radical love and communities transformed – and it is almost always from the bottom up.
I look to government and broken human systems and the cynic grows, paralyzing me with fear; I look to Jesus, to His vision, to His gospel affecting every sphere of life, to his Kingdom reality lived out at a grassroots level in the lives of Spirit-filled individuals all over the globe and I have all the hope in the world!
Let’s fix our eyes on Jesus and cling to hope and follow as He calls us to live out of His kingdom reality.