The Hidden Hand of God

I know when I talk about investing time and effort in affiliates that a lot of people are skeptical. "Anonymous" -- whoever you are -- has posted several comments in which he/she expresses real doubts about whether it's worth it. Maybe all those people who talk about their "spiritual needs" and "openness to transcendence" are just individualistic narcissists. Whatever sense of the divine they have is completely self-centered, and light years away from the costly gospel of Jesus.

I also know how seldom the effort seems to "pay off." I was having coffee with a fellow pastor a couple of weeks ago, and he commented on how much you can invest in people and situations with absolutely no visible results, and how that's maybe the key difference between pastoral ministry and other professions or occupations. We never know, in most cases, whether our labor has had any effect.

Statistics seem to be on the side of the doubters. I have done hundreds of weddings over the years, and the number of people who have made a real commitment of faith as a direct result of being married by me is -- well, let's say I don't need to take off my shoes to count them.

But, you know, there are moments when the hiddenness of God's work shines through with blazing glory.

I've started to meet with small -very small -- groups of people I know have the potential for blossoming in their faith to share the journey, to listen to Scripture and to pray. Yesterday, I was with two people who have wandered, but found their way back. One left the church in anger after the death of a parent. But she found her way back and has discovered a ministry as teen mentor.

The other didn't reject the church but simply drifted away from its perceived irrelevance. Her journey back was more convoluted. It came about through the informal witness of work colleagues. What sealed it was listening to a Christian song that a co-worker was playing on the car CD player. Her heart was "strangely warmed," and she felt drawn back to her faith. Hers is a story as moving as Wesley's Aldersgate or C. S. Lewis on the bus returning from the zoo.

Her rediscovery of faith coincided with the onset of a terrible personal crisis in which all old certainties and predictabilities dissolved and she has found herself simply waiting to see what the next day will bring. Faith, for her, has not brought certainty, but has provided, I think, at least the language to articulate her questions and her wonderings.

What doors are closed when we write people off? When we decide they're not worth the bother? That they're "deadwood"? I wonder how many faith journeys have been cut short because a serendiptious moment of encouragement or presence was ignored.

I know that, like the scattered seed of Jesus' parable, the vast majority of the time the message will land on the rocks, the thorns or the pavement. In my ministry, however, I am finely learning the importance of watching, listening, and waiting. Because you never know what the hidden hand of God is busy doing in places and people we can't see.

That's why I'm interested in all these folks.