Our world is on fire. I mean this mostly figuratively, but I live in Northern California, and we currently have several wildfires ravaging our terrain. Their frequency and intensity are not like we’ve seen in this region before.
In Haiti, a poor nation still reeling from the assassination of its president, a devastating earthquake struck in the same area that is still recovering from a paralyzing earthquake that happened eleven years ago.
Hurricane Ida made landfall 16 years to the day after Hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans. It ripped its way through the region again and this time made its way all the way northeast, causing record flooding in New York and New Jersey.
As we come upon the twentieth anniversary of September 11th, there is renewed unrest in Afghanistan and a resulting humanitarian crisis in the Middle East.
Globally, there is the raging Delta variant overfilling our hospitals and crippling the goings-on of everyday life, extending this COVID pandemic almost through its second year.
This doesn’t even mention the hyperpolarization of American politics with mask mandates, vaccines, abortion, voting rights, race relations, gun control, illegal immigration, the opioid epidemic, police reform… Pick a hot topic and you’ll divide a room in just a few words.
Everywhere you turn, there is something new to evoke our pathos. To me, it’s overwhelming. I don’t have the capacity to care about all the things I’m being asked to give my attention to. It’s easy to look around and think things have never been worse. Where is God? Has He abandoned us?
When I think about the world being on fire, I’m reminded of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They were exiled from their home and absorbed into a new nation and culture extremely different from their own. Their home was ravaged and their Temple ransacked and burned. They were from a royal and noble line, and the Bible even describes them as “ young men without any physical defect, good-looking, suitable for instruction in all wisdom, knowledgeable, perceptive, and capable of serving in the king’s palace.” (Daniel 1:4) In all actuality, they were cut down at the peak of their prime. They had everything going for them, but now they were refugees in a new land with new gods surrounded by people who hadno respect for the Most High. I bet they also looked around and thought things had never been worse. Where was God? Had He abandoned them?
If you read on in their story in Daniel 3, you’ll see in spite of their newfound situation, they continued to follow the way of the Lord. They lived their lives in exile until it clashed with what they knew to be right in the eyes of God. When faced with the choice of completely assimilating into Babylon culture and worshiping their gods and idols, they chose God. And it landed them in a literal fire.
When they found themselves in that fire, they were not alone. They were not abandoned. God did not leave them.
Then King Nebuchadnezzar jumped up in alarm. He said to his advisers, “Didn’t we throw three men, bound, into the fire?”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” they replied to the king.
He exclaimed, “Look! I see four men, not tied, walking around in the fire unharmed; and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.
Daniel 3:24-25, CSB
So when we find ourselves in a fire, we know we are not abandoned. We have Jesus, and He is protecting us.
But what does this mean? Is there a literal being in the fire with us protecting us from the flame and smoke? Maybe sometimes, but that has not been my personal experience. Most times, when I feel like I’ve been abandoned by God, He uses other people to show Himself to me. And I’m struck with the conviction that I need to be Jesus to others in the fire too. Where is God? He’s here, and He’s using you and me.
What does this look like? It can be in large ways like giving time, money, and resources to recovery efforts for wildfires, earthquakes, hurricanes, and floods. It can be food and clothing drives for refugees coming into our neighborhoods. It can be fasting and prayer for a divided nation to reconcile and realize we are all human beings and made in the image of Christ.
But I have a feeling it’s more relational and “smaller” than that. I see being Jesus as spoiling our kids’ teachers with extra supplies and a random Starbucks card and a blanket of prayer. I see being Jesus as picking up our neighbor’s kids and driving them along with us to school so their parents can both get to work on time. I see being Jesus as being a secret Easter Bunny who leaves surprise eggs around the front lawn of another neighbor’s house. I see being Jesus as being a trusted friend who will watch your dog for the weekend who has never been apart from you. I see Jesus as bringing a meal with extra treats to a mom friend who has just had a new baby after the loss of another one. I see Jesus as setting up extra playdates with my son’s friend so his parents who work from home can have a little extra quiet time to get some work done. I see being Jesus as sending an e-card or Venmo for a cup of coffee to a friend who casually said she had a rough morning.
Jesus often shows up in the small things. A little boy shared his lunch and helped feed five thousand people (Matthew 14:13-21). A woman took in a baby from the water and he delivered a nation from slavery (Exodus 2:5-10). A man stopped his journey to care for a hurt person on the road and showed how kindness can transcend racial lines (Luke 10:25-37). A woman drew water for a thirsty man and it changed her life (John 4:1-26). A woman supported her mother-in-law in grief and became the grandmother of a king (Ruth 1-4). A church came together to partner with Paul while he was in prison and it gave him strength (Philippians 4:10-14).
How many times has your life been changed by a rightly timed text message of encouragement? A surprise cup of coffee? A compliment from a stranger? Someone who met an unexpected need? Fires aren’t often extinguished in one fell swoop. It requires a bunch of people who are purposeful in their actions, however big or small.
Let’s work together to be Jesus to others.
