A Worthy Mission
Yesterday, I did what you're never supposed to do: I watched a movie while I drove to Nashville. Yes, I know, it's probably worse than driving with a cell phone. But, you know, an in-flight movie always makes the time pass so much faster. I had my computer set up on the right seat and watched "Seabiscuit." I don't remember much about the drive.
I do, however, remember much about that movie and, being the second time I've watched it, found it again so moving. What a great flick. There is so much truth in that story that I was overwhelmed as I drove.
The theme of the movie becomes evident early on, but is clearly articulated when C.S. Howard is talking to Tom Smith about becoming the trainer of his not-yet-purchased race horse. After Howard asks Tom why he is taking care of and trying to heal a lame horse that is standing nearby with a bandage around his leg, Tom tells him, "Because I can." He further explains that "you don't throw away a whole life just because it's banged up a little bit." Wow, what a great line...what a great truth.
As I reflected on that throughout the rest of the movie, I was deeply moved by the weight of that truth. We see Howard, who had lost his son in an accident and his wife, who left him because she couldn't cope with their son's death, become a catalyst in the redemption process of "a horse that's too small,[and] a jockey that's too big" as well as everyone else with whom he came in contact who were affected by the Great Depression...people used, abused and cast aside as worthless.
We get a glimpse into that universal truth that people matter, regardless of their circumstances, their past, their socio-economic position, their color, their ideals. We are too often prepared to throw away whole lives when they get banged up a little . We fail to see the value in even one precious soul; a soul created by a holy and loving God.
I'm talking about all kinds of people: the homeless man who walks the street asking for spare change that never got the real shot he needed because the money was never there for education or who became the slave of alcohol or drugs based on bad choices and poor judgment; the unborn child who won't get a shot at life because her teenage mother and father didn't take into consideration the results of their brief moment of pleasure and are not willing to sacrifice their own dreams in order to live up to their responsibility; the victim of AIDS whose lifestyle has left him a thin, weak shell of a man and has no chance of recovery, painfully wasting away day by day; the elderly woman whose husband has long since passed and whose family is too busy with lives of their own to even spend a couple of hours a week at the nursing home where she spends the remaining years of existence alone and isolated, watching the outside world pass through the window of a lonely room.
We throw these people away. We cast them aside. We give them lip-service or talk about what a pity it is or we justify why we think the way we do. Well, I'm a follower of Jesus and those are things He would never do. He came and loved every one of these people with an active love; a love that says, "You know, you messed up; you got a bad break; you didn't have much of a chance...but I love." He reached down in the dirt and picked people up and said to them with his actions, "You matter." He didn't justify or condone their lifestyles or poor judgment, or their sin. He called them to change but helped them out of their condition, offering them new life and new hope...free of charge. He impacted every person He came in contact with. People of all stripes and walks of life need to know they matter. I know I do and there's not a soul with breath in his nostrils who feels any differently. It's how we are made.
I spent a couple of hours yesterday in a meeting of young leaders of the Southern Baptist Convention here in Nashville. We heard people talking about where Southern Baptists have been and where we need to go. As I'm sure you know, we're known for a lot of things, most of them not positive. We're known for our in-fighting, our cold and heartless dogmatism, our intolerance, our lack of compassion. At least, these are the impressions most of the population has when asked what they think of us. In many ways, they are right. Our focus has been skewed and we have not backed up our fight for truth and sound doctrine with actions of love and compassion or a concern for justice for all people.
Yesterday, we talked about the next generation of upcoming Southern Baptists and what was important. We talked about "the mission." What mission? The mission of Christ to love a world that gets thrown aside when life gets a little banged up. We talked about loving all kinds of people with an unconditional love that lets them know that they are special to the One who died to demonstrate that love and that He has a future for them. We want to get away from what we have been and look to a future that stands on the Truth of Scripture, but does it in such a way that people of all walks of life experience the compassion and forgiveness of a loving God and are offered a hand up out of their bad luck, or bad choices, or bad whatever.
Can we do it? Man, I don't know. It's a whole lot of people coming from a bunch of different directions carrying a whole lot of baggage just like everybody else. But I can tell you this: there are a bunch more people than there ever have been wanting to see it happen. There are people who want to see this massive denominational "machine," as it has been described, become an agent of change in a society that needs a ton of love and compassion without strings attached. We love not for what we can get, but simply because that's what people need and that's what Jesus is about. It's about the mission.
Seabiscuit demonstrated that truth in a beautiful way on the screen. I hope I can demonstrate it in reality. I hope we all can.
I do, however, remember much about that movie and, being the second time I've watched it, found it again so moving. What a great flick. There is so much truth in that story that I was overwhelmed as I drove.
The theme of the movie becomes evident early on, but is clearly articulated when C.S. Howard is talking to Tom Smith about becoming the trainer of his not-yet-purchased race horse. After Howard asks Tom why he is taking care of and trying to heal a lame horse that is standing nearby with a bandage around his leg, Tom tells him, "Because I can." He further explains that "you don't throw away a whole life just because it's banged up a little bit." Wow, what a great line...what a great truth.
As I reflected on that throughout the rest of the movie, I was deeply moved by the weight of that truth. We see Howard, who had lost his son in an accident and his wife, who left him because she couldn't cope with their son's death, become a catalyst in the redemption process of "a horse that's too small,[and] a jockey that's too big" as well as everyone else with whom he came in contact who were affected by the Great Depression...people used, abused and cast aside as worthless.
We get a glimpse into that universal truth that people matter, regardless of their circumstances, their past, their socio-economic position, their color, their ideals. We are too often prepared to throw away whole lives when they get banged up a little . We fail to see the value in even one precious soul; a soul created by a holy and loving God.
I'm talking about all kinds of people: the homeless man who walks the street asking for spare change that never got the real shot he needed because the money was never there for education or who became the slave of alcohol or drugs based on bad choices and poor judgment; the unborn child who won't get a shot at life because her teenage mother and father didn't take into consideration the results of their brief moment of pleasure and are not willing to sacrifice their own dreams in order to live up to their responsibility; the victim of AIDS whose lifestyle has left him a thin, weak shell of a man and has no chance of recovery, painfully wasting away day by day; the elderly woman whose husband has long since passed and whose family is too busy with lives of their own to even spend a couple of hours a week at the nursing home where she spends the remaining years of existence alone and isolated, watching the outside world pass through the window of a lonely room.
We throw these people away. We cast them aside. We give them lip-service or talk about what a pity it is or we justify why we think the way we do. Well, I'm a follower of Jesus and those are things He would never do. He came and loved every one of these people with an active love; a love that says, "You know, you messed up; you got a bad break; you didn't have much of a chance...but I love." He reached down in the dirt and picked people up and said to them with his actions, "You matter." He didn't justify or condone their lifestyles or poor judgment, or their sin. He called them to change but helped them out of their condition, offering them new life and new hope...free of charge. He impacted every person He came in contact with. People of all stripes and walks of life need to know they matter. I know I do and there's not a soul with breath in his nostrils who feels any differently. It's how we are made.
I spent a couple of hours yesterday in a meeting of young leaders of the Southern Baptist Convention here in Nashville. We heard people talking about where Southern Baptists have been and where we need to go. As I'm sure you know, we're known for a lot of things, most of them not positive. We're known for our in-fighting, our cold and heartless dogmatism, our intolerance, our lack of compassion. At least, these are the impressions most of the population has when asked what they think of us. In many ways, they are right. Our focus has been skewed and we have not backed up our fight for truth and sound doctrine with actions of love and compassion or a concern for justice for all people.
Yesterday, we talked about the next generation of upcoming Southern Baptists and what was important. We talked about "the mission." What mission? The mission of Christ to love a world that gets thrown aside when life gets a little banged up. We talked about loving all kinds of people with an unconditional love that lets them know that they are special to the One who died to demonstrate that love and that He has a future for them. We want to get away from what we have been and look to a future that stands on the Truth of Scripture, but does it in such a way that people of all walks of life experience the compassion and forgiveness of a loving God and are offered a hand up out of their bad luck, or bad choices, or bad whatever.
Can we do it? Man, I don't know. It's a whole lot of people coming from a bunch of different directions carrying a whole lot of baggage just like everybody else. But I can tell you this: there are a bunch more people than there ever have been wanting to see it happen. There are people who want to see this massive denominational "machine," as it has been described, become an agent of change in a society that needs a ton of love and compassion without strings attached. We love not for what we can get, but simply because that's what people need and that's what Jesus is about. It's about the mission.
Seabiscuit demonstrated that truth in a beautiful way on the screen. I hope I can demonstrate it in reality. I hope we all can.
Labels: David C. Price
posted by DAVID C. PRICE at 6/20/2005 12:10:00 PM
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2 Comments:
David,
If you will email me, I'll send you my cell # and we can get together. Once I get Steve and Joe out of jail of course...
duh,
martyduren@yahoo.com
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