As the days grow longer and
school gets out for the summer I feel a certain dread come upon me. It is not a dread of hot days or summer
hailstorms. It is not even the
dread “slow” days at church as people are gone for vacation.
It is the dread of hearing one
word spoken over and over and over again by my children. The word? “Nothing.” I’ll
walk into the garage to find that the girls have stacked boxes and bins
precariously atop one anther in order to get something that is out of
reach. I’ll ask, “What are you
doing?” To which they will reply,
“nothing.” And yet that will only
be the beginning for throughout the summer I’m guaranteed to hear at least 3487
times that there is “nothing” to do, “nothing” that interests them, “nothing”
to play with, “nothing” to learn.
Nothing. In fact, I’m
beginning to wonder if “nothing” is the most misused word in the entire
language. While I can’t speak for
the rest of the world, in my home “nothing” looks a lot like everything! There are countless things to do and
learn and play with. And believe
me, when my girls are out of sight they definitely are not up to “nothing.”
To be honest there is often a lot
of “nothing” that feels a lot like something in my life. Sometimes when Julie is really quiet
I’ll ask her, “what’s wrong?” If
she answers “nothing” then things are about to get ugly. In fact, there may be no greater
warning in the world that “something” is going on than to have someone tell you
it’s “nothing.”
For some reason though, it got me
to wondering if perhaps that’s not always a bad thing. Maybe there are times when nothing can
mean everything and I mean everything.
I’ve had a couple of
opportunities over the years, both in Denver and in Dallas, to worship with
some urban Christian communities made up almost entirely of homeless or poverty
stricken people. On each of those
occasions I’ve left with a profound sense that something very special had taken
place even though to all outward appearances it may have seemed like
nothing. These groups of
Christians usually met in the sparsest of places, never actually their own, and
worship with the most minimal of things.
No screens, no hymnals, no organ, no band, no altar or pulpit, sometimes
a guitar but really almost nothing.
Yet despite that, the joy they felt together receiving the promises and
gifts of God was tangible. The
Holy Spirit was mightily at work among them as many were baptized, heard our
Lord’s Words of forgiveness and even received his supper. I experienced this weird transcendent
feeling as if I was either at the very first Christian worship service in
Jerusalem 2000 years ago OR at the very last one at some future time in
heaven.
Each time that has happened I’ve
come away thinking of Paul’s words to the Corinthians about what it means to be
a servant of Christ.
“Rather, as servants of God we
commend ourselves in every way: … through glory and dishonor, bad report and
good report;
genuine, yet regarded as
impostors;
known, yet regarded as unknown;
dying, and yet we live on;
beaten, and yet not killed;
sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;
poor, yet making many rich;
having nothing, and yet
possessing everything.
(2 Corinthians 6:4, 8-11)
And of course it’s that last one
that really gets me… having nothing, and yet possessing everything.
What Paul is saying goes beyond
being poetic and witty. He is
speaking about a deep and profound truth.
It is a truth, a revelation that there is so much more to our
lives. It is a truth that speaks
not simple platitudes like “everything happens for a reason” or “God never
gives us more than we can stand.”
But true truth, truth like Jesus’, “I am the way, the truth and the
life” kind of truth. For while
each of us has countless things for which to be thankful, the truth is that the
things we have accumulated and collected amount to nothing. For the more we approach God in our
“nothingness”; no pride, no excuses, no moralism, no self centeredness, the
more we will find that he has already given us everything in His Son. Nothing is more certain or more sure than that.
