As I was falling asleep last night my mind fell into deep thought. I was thinking that the further into the mission field you get, the further you get away from God. In a way, the further I go into the world, into the dark world of others’ pain and suffering and need, hopefully with compassion, sympathy and solidarity, it’s at those times when I feel the furthest from Jesus. When Jesus said, “Go!” to his disciples, and they left, they were separated from him. It was only when they returned to his presence that they could rejoice at what had happened.
Years ago a friend and I went on a trip to the UK to observe a youth movement that was happening there at the time. We visited one youth-focused ministry in the middle of a city. It took place in a warehouse. They had it set up like a huge rave hall. Lights. Elevated dancing platforms. Dark corners. Smoke. Monolithic speakers. Dance music so loud I felt my ribs scraping against each other. And security, security, security. They were an intense bunch of young risk-takers who had compassion for the troubled youth of their city. They confessed that they saw no fruit from their labor of love. No visible results. There was nothing overtly Christian or even spiritual about the place or the weekend night events. They simply got to meet, love and secretly pray for those kids. There was often violence, drugs, alcohol, fights, theft, weapons, sex, and some religious opposition to what they were doing. My friend and I had supper with them, went to the dance, and afterwards to a pub that served tandoori where we ate and drank beer, debriefing the evening. Their burning question to us was: “What do you guys think? Are we okay? Do you think God is with us in this? Are we so far out there that we are beyond all frontiers?” It wasn’t a by-the-way question. It was with tears in their eyes, staring straight into ours, desperate for any kind of sign. They were seriously wrestling with disturbing doubts that Jesus wasn’t with them, that he broke off their trail a long time ago, that they were too deeply immersed in the tangled jungle of the bleak world they had compassion for.
There are times… in fact, most the time!… I feel so covert that I wonder if I’ve “gone native“. I wonder if I’ve crossed the line of no return, some boundary that Jesus himself would not morally cross. Like a spy, I feel like I’ve clandestined myself to the point of not knowing for certain which side I’m on. I begin to wonder, because I see no fruit from my efforts, that the gospel just doesn’t go this far into the margins. I know, I know. Some of you are probably thinking, “How dark IS your world? You there in your cushy chair with your powerbook and coffee surrounded by friends and a paycheck in middle-class North America?” I know. I realize this. And I’m sorry. I’m not like Joseph Conrad in the middle of the Congo. But I am a little like him, for I have seen the darkness that is in the middle of our hearts. And that was Conrad’s point. But that’s what I’m after! That’s what I pursue, what occupies my time, what stirs compassion for me to go there with others! And it is dark, so dark I wonder if Jesus is even there or if he ever could or ever would be there!
I think of some of you reading this right now. This applies to you. I think the furthest a missionary can go, the most missional we can ever become, is where we get to the place where, like Jesus on the cross at the fullest missional expression in history, we say, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That is the missional voice at its best, or at its worst… depending on your perspective. Last night, on my bed, I wondered if I’d gone to far. I prayed: “My God, my God, I think I have abandoned you. Not because I don’t love you. Not because I don’t believe in you. But because you told me to go. And I went and went and went, and here I am seemingly so far from you I’m not sure if I will ever find my way back. I thought you would come with me. I assumed, because you asked me to be obedient to your call, that you would be with me in the same way you always had been… in warmth, intimacy, assurance and light. Instead, you sent me away from you into the cold heart of meaningless darkness. You sent me to plumb the depths of our hearts. You asked me to do this! And so here I find myself, asking you the question that keeps me awake in the chilled darkness of night, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’“
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David Hayward is a pastor artistically stripping to the essential.
David — I know the feeling — I really do. I think anytime you step out in faith to pursue God’s calling you feel exposed — because you are!! Plus, it doesn’t help to have our enemy, the Accuser, throwing in some heaping reminders of how unfit we are to do anything of value for God, while highlighting our own hypocrisies, sins, doubts, fears, failings, etc. Not to mention all the “helpful” folks who see it as their mission in life to tear down anyone whose marching orders seem incompatible with their own. All of this can serve to block out the light and warmth of God in your life, making everything seem pretty bleak…
But just to prove God hasn’t forsaken you, he had me run across this post today, and compelled me to tell you that he hasn’t gone anywhere
You’re still loved, still made holy by the blood of Christ, and still his beloved son, regardless of how “off the path” you may or may not have strayed…
And if there is something coming between you and him, take it to him — confess if need be — ask for clarity — then keep walking in the light he gives you and trust him and his heart for you with the results…
Feel better?
Seriously, your blogging and raw honesty has been a blessing and a challenge to me, and I’m sure to many others. And this is coming from a “vision” guy who was first attracted here by your “anti-vision” rants…
Blessings
hey steve. thanks.
You know what David?
I think you’re fantastic.
Matt
well, okay. but i’m not really, but thanks matt
Happy to disagree with you!
Matt
Light shines brightest in the dark – others will see it if it shines through you, and even when our Father is drawing the darkness out of our own heart, others will see that too – you my friend are a beacon of hope in a dark world…know this, our Father will not let you stray beyond His reach…how far would that be? How far is His reach?
Yeah.
by-the-way, thanks for being you.
~mp:)
David,
Isn’t that what REAL faith is. Going throught the times of wondering, questioning as to whether God is with you or not—and hanging onto the reality that He is there.
My friend, we walk by faith not by site——-and for some the blind walk of faith is longer for some than others.
I wonder what God has in store for you when you come out of the blind walk of faith into His light? Don’t give up—-there are people waiting for you to come out of the darkness to show them the way through the blind walk.
fishon
Not to be too presumptuous, but I too have been there. In fact, to a lesser degree, I’m living there now. Through my reading, praying and general fretting, I’ve come to a realization that God is not all about feelings. Just like Jesus in the garden, it is about obedience and once you obey, God trusts you with His greatest gift – silence. Jesus, as He lived out His mission to seek and save the lost, met with failure – the ones He was saving were crucifying Him. And into the midst of that great pain of apparent failure, God is silent. This you have said eloquently and with the raw emotion that it carries.
Your mission to the world is where you meet with darkness. His silence is the inner working that makes the mission possible. Some works of the Spirit cannot be done while we feel the work being done. Some must be forged in silence. Here is where we learn to stand without fear and live a life of faith (aren’t feelings in someways a form of “sight”?).
So my suggestion to you is to take heart. God has entrusted you with one of his best and most difficult gifts.
Some suggested reading: The Cloud of Unknowing, some works of Henri Nouwen, Meister Eckhart and other mystics. Again please excuse my presumption and over confidence.
Great post! I think we all have to wonder about our personal walks of faith and what meaning we are giving them…I am not a missional person per se – I like to dwell with the Natives.
But I get it – sometimes we think we are right in this faith and yet feel like we are nowhere near this faith…or some artist’s rendering of what this faith looks like. The great thing about faith in God is we are part of it – and we make the decisions to go this way or that way – and we shouldn’t feel bad about making those decisions (unless we are intentionally trying to hurt someone). Who defines what this faith is supposed to look like anyways?
The point I really enjoyed is the idea of going out there too far (it would seem) and that this is what we are asked ‘go’. Even the point about Jesus and his cry of being ‘forsaken’ truly resonate with all of us. I have made this came point about Christian growth. I think at first we seem very close to God – sensing this definite reality. As we grow – God lets us ‘go’.
At some point we have to be mature individuals about our faith – and take full responsibility for what we know and how we enact it. Isn’t that the truth about growth? Maybe once we drank milk – but at some point we have to start eating/behaving like an adult (although I am very childish). Maybe God seems less close than at once in previous times – but that doesn’t mean God has left – just that He has left you with more responsibility for your life. I think I commend God for this process (if I am onto something here).
I would say ‘don’t worry, God has not left the building’ – He has left it up to us to determine the directions and see us take up repsonsibility for what we learned. Like a parent to a child as he/she matures into adulthood – bit by bit they take on more personal responsibility for their lives. We may be adults but we are still God’s children.
Several times a day in prison I have that sense, although I didn’t know I was having it till I read this post – thank you for expressing it. You are so honest but more than that so REAL.
Sometimes I even feel like giving up. More than sometimes. God usually shows up then in the form of a prisoner. Often I’ve been ministered to by an unknowing Christian inmate/brother in Christ who has shown more wisdom and grace than I could muster at that time. And then they get released… And then another one comes along in his place… But there are so many other guys who are so far away. Staff too. It’s such a dark world, prison.
David,
I know how you feel. Isaiah chapter 50 has been such a good chapter for when I feel like you are expressing how you feel. I won’t put all of it in this comment, but it is good to read.
9 Behold, the Lord GOD helps Me; Who is he who condemns Me?
Behold, they will all wear out like a garment; The moth will eat them.
10 Who is among you that fears the LORD, That obeys the voice of His servant,
That walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God.
11Behold, all you who kindle a fire, Who encircle yourselves with firebrands,
Walk in the light of your fire And among the brands you have set ablaze
This you will have from My hand: You will lie down in torment.
I have learned that there are many times of darkness and during those times I wonder if I’m wrong and if other Christians are far better in their faith than I am. They have seemed full of confidence where I feel weak and inadequate. What I’ve learned is that “They” feel as weak and in the dark as I do. We do have the Holy Spirit with us at all times if we abide with Christ, but even then there seem to be times when our Lord feels far away. It is just too easy to fall prey to the great deceiver, Satan. I’m praying for you David, as I’m sure many other folks are. God Bless your ministry and give you extra of His Grace and Peach. Edwina
David -
Reminds me of the book I just reread a couple weeks ago: “Under the Unpredictable Plant” by Eugene Peterson. That struggle between doing the work of the ministry, and actually feeling like you have God on your side – isn’t as easy and assuming as many people think, as I’ve come to find out.
Being called, having that calling confirmed, all that prayer and meditation making sure God didn’t call the wrong phone number when the call first came … so where did this Creator of ours go when we’re in the midst of the muck and the mud? The family feuds we see and experience, the pain of broken relationships and physical abuse, the devestation of divorce, the destruction of addictive habbits. Anyone considering going into ministry may be frightened off by this.
For me, the time in the belly of the whale is essential – that alone time in meditation, prayer, reflection, contemplation, being, observing God all around; it is that time in one’s own personal monastery in which I can drain myself of all that I am, drain all of those pains that have been shared with me by others, pulling the plug on the resevoir that holds the worries and anxieties and doubts … that’s when I come out feeling alive, having rejoice and celebrated with Jesus at what has been done.
Why can’t I feel that confident when I don’t sense God’s presence? Maybe Yahweh isn’t yet done with me.
Peace out.
awesome book. and i heard him lecture on this in person. even better.
Most of the time i felt i’m lost too not because i’m obedient to God’s commandment ‘to go’ but because i really am lost.
What I do believe is that, however far we are from God, we are always one prayer away from Him.
Wow, David. Have you read “Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith” by Barbara Brown Taylor? It’s about a minister who finally gets to pastor a church – and then finds herself so burned out and having no time to meet with the One who called her to ministry – that she ends up resigning from the pastorate. It’s an incredible book – and a must read for anyone in ministry! I have read it about 4 times.
I’ve felt like this–like I was drowning–in a bad marriage and in a bad church. It’s like playing Marco Polo with God and trying to swim your way toward the faint voice. Or like being caught in a rip current and pulled further and further from shore.
The more you struggle, the worse it gets.
All I can say is “Thank God, I could finally open my eyes, wrap my arms around his neck, and feel Him pulling me back to a safe shoreline.”
Oh, I’m sure, He’ll toss me out to sea again; and eventually, He’ll pull me back. In the ebb and flow of life, and of ministry, I pray the same for you, David. That you won’t drown; that He’ll always–eventually–pull you back to the safety of His presence. And that those moments of floating will be enough to sustain you when you’re being pulled under–again.
Just after I read your post I clicked onto another in my feed reader and read this verse from Romans 8 (the bits before it were posted too, but this is my favourite verse):
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
But actually what I wanted to say was that your questions and doubt are about a thousand times more encouraging than all the happy, smiley Christians who speaks only words of faith. Somehow it’s so much more real and honest somehow to know other people don’t feel close to God all of the time (maybe not even most of the time).
Hi David – I know how you feel in that struggle. How far is too far? The thing is, when your heart is for people, then it will lead you to where the people are. Sometimes they are in the seats in the church building you happen to be in. Most of the time they are in other places. Places where I believe God already is. Jesus was crucified outside the city walls. Is that not a call for us to go as far as possible, to the outermost places to the people who have been forgotten by everyone except God? I write that knowing I don’t do it and wish I had the guts to go and do it.
A quick story that relates…
When I first became a follower of Jesus, me and my mate went on a trip to Dublin. We went out that night and decided that we would go and speak to some strangers about Jesus, but we didn’t know which strangers. We saw a strip club. We went in, sat down and waited. A girl came over and started to talk to us asking if we wanted to see her dance. We said no and asked her why she did this job. we said surely there was another way. She got angry with us and we left.
Looking back I kinda regret what we did. Firstly, it wasn’t a good idea for me to go into a strip club (lead us not into temptation springs to mind!).
More and more I realise I need to just get to know people and be with them wherever they are and hope that God will use that rather than speaking to a stranger (cold calling?) about Jesus. But sometimes, do people go into places where I really can’t go because I would struggle to return?
I don’t know…
Joe
I don’t know, it seems the farther you go into the mission field, God is with you. Maybe more so that in some “churchy places.”
huh, sounds familiar…da-ja-vu sort of familiar.
all the best with your bro in the west!
Hey David,
This is a quote I like from Bikers For Christ motorcycle club
“Some wish to live within the sound of church or chapel bells;
We want to run a rescue shop within a yard of Hell!!!”
This is a difficult one. God’s will does lead one to places where it is sometimes difficult to experience His presence. For somebody that’s devoted to Him and who can look back at times when he/she felt very intimate with God this could be a very depressing experience. On the other hand going on your own ego trip, playing saviour by doing things you are not truly called for (but like to be) can also cause the very same feeling. I do believe what we do should be an expression of who we are (in God) and not the other way around! Who should do what we love and love what we do-that way everybody wins. When we do what we called for the places or circumstances in wich we do it won’t get the better of us…at least not for long…I hope! I feel your pain!
And it is exactly those moments that I feel alive, that I know I’m alive, because I actually struggle.
Ah, to breathe again!
And it is exactly during those moments that I feel alive, that I know I’m alive, because I actually struggle.
Ah, to breathe again!
Sorry for the double post. And now the triple post.
I starred this post in GReader, it was hard to read on the day it was posted.
I went back to it and glanced at it daily, it was hard to read after it was posted.
I read it again tonite, and my heart aches…
Thanks for posting this. I can wax about reading and not reading it over and over. But the truth is the words pierce me. I feel this way more than I want to admit to myself.
Thank you. I’m late in catching up on my reading. Your voice echoed the cry of my heart.
The word I keep hearing in my context, “Stay present in the uncertainty” ….. which we hate – the human heart craves resolution – we’ll take any poor excuse of a resolution – as long as we can get away from the profoundly nagging anxiety ….
i’d be honoured if you’d check out our blog and you’ll get a sense of my context: http://www.btgproject.blogspot.com