A simple
beeping sound changed my whole day yesterday. I am in my car driving home from
work already quite a bit later than usual. Then I hear it. The power this little
beeping tone has is amazing. It makes adult pull their car over and drop anything
else they might be doing. I reach to the passenger seat and pull the tiny pager
out of my peacoat pocket like a scene from the late 90s. When I call the number
on display, I find that there are two emergencies to be tended to. One at each
major jail in the city. As the on-call chaplain this day, it is my job to
respond, regardless of my regular work hours. So, I turn the car around and
head back to the jail I just left. Following that stop, I made the 40-minute
trip across one of the busiest freeways in the city to tend to the other
emergency.
A
series of unpredicted circumstances led to me working about five hours past
what I anticipated yesterday. I wish I could say I was thrilled to suffer for
the kingdom, but I cannot. The truth is, I did not feel all that holy, despite the
pastoral nature of my task and my literal “calling.” I had been battling
sickness in my body and was really looking forward to being able to recover at
home. In times like this, however, I am thankful that the Lord reminds me how
he handles these situations, and he reminds me that I am to imitate him as my primary
calling.
The
moments following John the Baptist’s death come to mind. In Matthew 14:1-12
there is a peculiar scene where King Herod is manipulated by his sister-in-law turned
lover and her daughter. After Herod’s niece pleases him and his friends with
what is likely a salacious dance routine, he promises to give her anything she
asks for. The niece and her mother conspire that she would ask for the head of John
the Baptist on a platter. The king reluctantly honors his oath and prophet of
God is beheaded.
The Scripture
says, “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a
desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on
foot from the towns. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had
compassion on them and healed their sick (14:13-14).” We must not overlook the
fine details at play. The first chapter of Luke tells us that Jesus and John
the Baptists are cousins. Surely, they would have been close. Both were probably
misunderstood growing up but passed off by others as being a little “different”
or “eccentric.” John baptized Jesus at the inauguration of Christ’s public
ministry, and they both would have been mocked for the prophetic messages of their
adult ministries. Even though Jesus’ own mother and siblings thought him to be
crazy at times, John was the one who always “got” his cousin. They would have
had a bond that was special among all others.
Jesus has
a notable moment when he learns about the death of his close relative and
friend. All he wants to do is have some alone time to grieve. Surely, he draws
away to be alone with his Father. This would have been no different than how
any child runs to the comfort and wisdom of a parent when they experience the
sharpness of a broken heart. However, a crowd of followers find out where he is,
and they seek him out to tend to their own wounds. Jesus does not lash out at
them from his own pain, and he does not send them away so he can have his own
time to heal. On the contrary, verse 14 tells us that when Jesus sees their
condition, he has compassion on them and heals their sick. Being fully human, we
cannot expect that Jesus’ emotions regenerate or heal in a matter of moments. No,
but he makes the decision tend to others in their distress, regardless of his
own discomfort.
The following verses (14:15-21),
tell us that as the day grows late Christ’s disciples tell him to send the people
home to get something to eat. I believe their instruction is two-fold. One, it
would allow the crowd to eat because there is not enough food to feed everyone
where they are. Two, sending the crowd away would also allow Jesus more alone
time and privacy to grieve his cousin’s death. Instead, Jesus picks option number
three. He has the people stay, and he creates a miracle with five loves and
bread and two fish to feed the thousands. Jesus demonstrates here that his care
is complete. Even when he is hurting, he does not just want to touch people and
send them on their way. He wants them to be totally nourished physically and
spiritually, he wants to fellowship with them, and he wants to see them
completely through their hardships.
Jesus is always on-call. For this
reason, on-call is not a component of my job that I can resent. I quickly realized
that getting home at a convenient hour is far less important than the two hurting
souls that needed the consolation of Christ yesterday. One inmate would receive
the message that a family member passed away and the other would receive a
phone call to his father whom he is told is near death.
This is a Jesus moment. However, it
takes a constant eye on Christ’s example to recognize the value of the “call.”
Jesus suffered with and accompanied a suffering people regardless of his own
circumstances. In that same heart, we too can all be on-call for the brokenhearted
around us; pager or no pager.
Thanks for this Mikey! This event in the life of Jesus has always ministered to me. It shows one of the days when what the psalmist wrote in Psalm 142:4-5 that is sometimes true of us was also true of Jesus.
ReplyDelete"Look to the right and see:
there is none who takes notice of me;
no refuge remains to me;
no one cares for my soul.
I cry to you, O Lord;
I say, “You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living.”
Also, pretty sure I know what the 3 in the title is for.
Mikey, I love you and I love your heart. You are called to spread Jesus from the rooftops and in the prisons of a person's hurting heart. I am proud of you.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your humanness with us, Mikey! God used you powerfully even though you didn't feel it. Thankfully, Jesus is with us even when we don't feel His presence. May the Lord bless you and give you strength as you minister in the trenches where many fear to tread.
ReplyDelete