Enduring the Struggle

In this blog series I hope to make a case for a distinctly Christian approach to Community Development. I believe Christian faith offers a unique set of tools and resources in the pursuit of justice and flourishing for our most vulnerable communities. So far in this blog series, we’ve seen that the Christian story offers us a transcendent vision of a world made new that creates a form of holy discontentment within us that leads to redemptive action. The Christian faith also reminds us that the world is in need of a Savior, but that Savior is not you or me. This creates a humility which allows us to serve from a place of earnest love, instead of ego, insecurity (or guilt). This kind of Gospel-motivated love, brings true healing to the world. 

Sounds easy enough, right? 

If only it were that simple.

As anyone who has taken up the call of compassion knows, when you consciously choose to wade into the suffering of another, you begin to share in that suffering. When you shoulder a burden with your neighbor, you eventually feel its weight - and it doesn’t take long for your knees to buckle. No wonder people wall themselves off from the poor, and insulate themselves from the vulnerable. When you peer honestly into the world’s pain, you find that it has no bottom. The reality of the world’s brokenness is utterly crushing. 

Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote, “You have to make your peace with the chaos, but you cannot lie.” His view of the world does not include divinely inspired meaning, or “irrepressible justice” which is why his willingness to stare into the world’s chaos and choose to move forward is so noble to me. But as noble as it might be, I don’t think it will lead to the transformation our world is aching for. (I think Coate’s would agree with me, by the way). 

Countless people have experienced burnout and thrown in the towel after joining their neighbors in their struggle. Some people blow up their lives because of compassion fatigue, others quit before that happens. But countless people in one form of ministry or another are well acquainted with burnout. We may have a vision of renewal, and we may have the tools to pursue it, but what do we do when the people we love seem hopelessly damned to a life of suffering? How do you wade into bottomless suffering without drowning in the process? 

Dr. King has a different take on the struggle. He believes we all must struggle…not because the world is doomed to stay broken - but because he believes the world can actually change! We are called into the struggle precisely because our lives should be lived in hope, towards a vision of renewal. King said, “Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.”

Represented by Coates and King are two views of the struggle. One is like someone treading water in the ocean of chaos struggling to keep their head above water. The other is more like a long and enduring swim, struggling through chaotic waters toward the shores of justice. For the struggle to be anything more than a struggle, it must be a struggle toward something. Its essential ingredient is hope. We must never lose sight of the shore line. As King would say, “We must walk in the days ahead with an audacious faith in the future.” 

Perhaps that's what Christian hope is - an audacious faith in the future.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry said, “If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work, and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.”

The reality is that none of us are insulated from the pain of living. As Lewis famously said, “To love is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.” The animating force of life is love, so if we want to come alive (to any degree) we must love. This means all of us will brush up against the arresting pain of loss. We will all suffer, but not all of us suffer in the same way. For instance, not all struggle daily under the boot of societal fractures, injustice, and inequities. Many of us are privileged enough to be insulated from such suffering.

Many are not. 

For those of us insulated from social inequities, we are faced with a unique temptation - the temptation to look away. When things don’t seem to change (or when they seem to get worse) there is a great temptation to retreat back to the warmth of our insulated social position, and close the curtains. I would argue that this form of self-preservation is natural, and likely, biological. As animals we are hardwired for survival, but as image bearers of God we are hardwired for love. Have you ever felt these competing desires? I know I have. So how do we choose love, when our instinct is to survive? 

Hope is the essential ingredient. 

We must believe that “light has entered the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” We must believe that God’s Spirit once hovered over the chaos of our unformed world…unfazed by its madness he made all things from it, and called it good. We must believe despite fall and fracture, God’s Spirit continues to hover amidst the chaos of our days, agonizing with us in our grief, and tirelessly working to redeem all that is not yet good and beautiful and kind. And we must believe that God is not a quitter. If the world has not yet been set to rights, then God is not done redeeming and restoring. 

Hope is the essential ingredient - and all everlasting hope has God at its center. 

Someone might ask - why should I believe in such hopeful things? What makes any of this more than wishful thinking? Surely the punishing pain of our world feels more real than these rumors of redemption…At times they do. Oftentimes…actually, they do. 

But what if that feeling is actually at the heart of the Christian faith? What if I told you that the feelings of confusion and disappointment have been resonating with Christians since the time God became a man two thousand years ago. The followers of Jesus watched their faith and hope become nothing more than misguided myth as they saw their leader nailed to a Roman cross. Hanging their heads and hiding they thought all hope was lost. The Hebrew struggle under the Roman boot was doomed to continue. Perhaps they got it all wrong? Maybe there is no meaning to be found in life. Maybe life is just a struggle. And then you die. 

Just like Jesus.

For those of us familiar with the story, we know that Jesus did not remain dead. He was resurrected. God was doing what God does - redeeming suffering. God entered the chaos of a wrongful conviction and execution to show us that not even death gets the final word. Even the places of deepest sadness and infuriating injustice have been invaded by the redeeming presence of God. 

We can have an audacious faith in the future because God embodied the hope of the future and brought it into our world. As N.T. Wright put it, “Easter was when Hope in person surprised the whole world by coming forward from the future into the present.”

Again, someone might say, “This is an inspiring story, but tell me something that is true.”

This is once again where the Christian faith offers unique resources. Our story is not pulled from the sky, and our faith is not accepted blindly. Christian faith is built from the cornerstone of Christ and His resurrection. The life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus of Nazareth are the convictions that the rest of our faith hangs on. And there is strong historical evidence to believe in those convictions. 

If Christ really lived, really died, and was really raised from the dead, then we have great reason for hope. And so long as we have hope, we have everything we need to continue struggling forward, together.