he who has eyes...

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” [1 Corinthians 13:1]

I recently went to the Vineyard National Conference in Galveston, Texas. The church I help serve, the Near West Vineyard, is part of a larger association of churches called, fittingly, the Association of Vineyard Churches. It’s a family of around 600 churches in the United States and 1500 in the world as a whole. And, my goodness, do I love this family. Of all the things that stood out to me in going to this conference, it wasn’t necessarily the speakers (who were amazing) or the worship (which was amazing) or the opportunity to serve a hurricane-ravished community (which was amazing), the thing I loved the most was that I became absolutely certain that this community was the community I wanted to serve amongst as a life-long mission.

But, aside from that fact, I was most struck by one thing (which certainly contributed to my being enamored with this group of people): time and time again, I saw that people were doing everything they were doing out of love.

Nothing else motivated them.

It wasn’t because they were particularly good at public speaking or this was the one career that seemed the most fulfilling to them. Most (if not all) of the people I got a chance to really speak to were doing what they were doing as church leaders because they deeply loved people.

Two examples stuck out. The first of which was Wess Stafford. While he isn’t a Vineyard guy (and thus doesn’t count towards my Vineyard population study), he does lead one of the most wonderful organizations I know of, Compassion International. You probably know them primarily as the group through which you can sponsor children in impoverished countries.

He was invited to give one of the main addresses at the conference. He basically spoke about his story — where he came from and why he’s doing what he’s doing. As the child of missionaries in Africa, Wess grew up in the Ivory Coast, where he got to witness first-hand what it’s like growing up as a child in an impoverished country. He got to watch friends of his die (sometimes in his arms) of completely treatable diseases or hunger (because they couldn’t access the massive surplus of food our world produces). When he asked his parents when he was going to die from some disease, they told him he was safe because of these little scars on his arm — unlike the children in his village, he had received vaccines. And to a child, it’s very, very hard to understand why all the other children don’t have these scars on their arms as well. In fact, it’s very, very hard to understand that as an adult.

In all of his stories, many of which brought me to tears (not to mention Wess almost losing it multiple times), I could see one basic fact: what Wess Stafford was doing with his life is the one thing he was created and designed for. If he was doing anything else with his life with all of his experiences, it would be a waste. His motivation was a motivation of love.

I also got an opportunity to hang out with my recent pastor-crush Jay Pathak and his crew from the Arvada Vineyard in Colorado. If you’ve ever wanted to know what a community devoted to following Jesus and doing an amazing job at it looks like, this is a great place to start looking. The sermons that come out of this place are in my constant Podcast rotation.

What stuck out to me as I got to spend time talking with Jay wasn’t just the wisdom that he can share or the clarity with which he can share it (which make him an excellent teacher), it was the fact that even in one-on-one settings, he’s completely dedicated to caring for you and having empathy for your situation (which makes him an excellent pastor). This is what we call integrity. Who he is while on stage matches who he is when he’s sitting on a couch talking to you. You get to see that what he talks about on Sundays is quite simply motivated by his love for his people (which makes him an excellent preacher).

As with Wess Stafford, I came to understand that if Jay Pathak was doing anything else with his life, it would be a waste. His motivation was also a motivation of love.

When I think of myself, I know that I’m not there yet — which is sad. I’m someone who might have a talent for teaching and a love of God and Scripture, and therefore teaching in a church seems like a natural fit. The problem is I would get only so far as being a good teacher. What I want to be is a good preacher (someone who exhorts and teaches people how to come closer to God, based out of love) and a good pastor (someone who serves alongside people and has a deep compassion — that is desire to “suffer alongside” — for the people he gets the opportunity to lead). What I need is to have my motivation be a motivation of love.

If you know me and talk to me, you’ll know that I will often “have all the answers.” If something is bothering you, I can give you a great reason as to why — usually based on some sort of understanding of Scripture. I love having a solid theology and letting you see how this theology is practical to you. But the problem is, I’m usually just motivated by being right, or being seen as intelligent, or being seen as helpful, or whatever. And whatever nugget of knowledge I am throwing at you, I’m usually very quick to speak and very slow to listen.

When Jay was talking to someone about how hard the first year of marriage can be, he had such a sympathetic voice and just said, “Oh, I’m so sorry that’s been so difficult for you.” Not in a condescending way, not in a way that seemed like he was trying to move on to something else, not just to hear his own voice in the conversation, but in a way that you could tell he actually meant it.

He didn’t jump to some sort of explanation as to why this is like I would have. “Of course it is. People are broken and will be screwed up. Marriage is all about learning how to accept this brokenness and helping them to re-orient themselves to be moving towards Christ…” or “Of course it is. You know, this is why Paul says that it’s better for a person not to get married, because it makes his or her focus divided between spouse and God…”

To me, those are good explanations and good things to say sometimes, but seriously… how helpful are these statements really? How Jay handled the situation showed me that he was deeply affected by the struggles this other man was going through, and that any advice he would offer was based on love, not a quickly cooked-up theology on marriage.

Since the conference and for the first time in years, I’ve been hit with the self-reformation bug. I used to do this all the time in high school and in college, where I’d notice a deep flaw in who I was and would actively work to correct it. Since I’ve been in Chicago, I’ve certainly developed as a person and become less imperfect (I hope), but it has usually been the result of something more passive than active.

I’d love to go on a tangent right now about the biblical ideas as to why this is a good thing for me to do and for you to do. Doing so would be my typical modus operandi. Instead, you should just go and read the words of Jesus and the words written about the way he lived his life. Everything he ever did was because he loved God and because he loved his fellow man. Honestly, there’s no better thing that I can do to exhort you in this than to point you to Jesus. So, in lieu of rambling on and on about love as a motivation, I’ll just direct your attention to the gospel of Mark: Mark 1-12, Mark 13-16.

While you’re doing that, I’m going to continue trying to actively pursue a life where my motivation is a motivation of love.

(By the way, I’d love your help on this journey. If I’m around you and you feel in some way like I’m just throwing out something to you from a place with an incorrect motivation, I give you the complete freedom to call me out on it. Seriously. Try it out.)