Taking over the World

When we were little, we dreamt of taking over the world. We dreamt of being famous, of being astronauts, firefighters, singers, dancers, actors, policemen, politicians. We dreamt of being people of influence, with the power to be world-changers. We were hopeful, and we couldn't wait to remake the world the way we thought it should be, making it fit our image.

Then, we grew up. We got real. We decided our dreams were foolish. We  went to college for business and accounting, teaching and nursing. Some of us found new passions, and others just drifted along with the current. We decided that the world didn't depend on us.

But we were wrong. Very soon, we are going to take over the world whether we realize it or not. There will be no coup, no media coverage, no new world order. We will take over the world quietly. It will happen one day at a time, one idea after another. We will suddenly be the ones making the decisions. The ones voting on new laws, or not. The ones speaking up against the wrongs of the world, or not. We will be the ones acting like adults, or we won't be. We will change the world, or we won't.

It is our destiny, greater than we ever dreamt as children. We are Plan A for the future of the world. If we don't take up the challenge to take over the world, no one else will. We are Plan A, and there is no Plan B.

Very soon, we will take over the world. Will we know what to do with it when it's ours?

An argument for Hope

How is it that so many Christians have been reading the same text for thousands of years, and coming to such different conclusions about its meaning? We’re all seeking after the same God, but somehow we see his plan like we read a map: we all know where we’re trying to get, but no one can agree on the best route to take. I wonder, sometimes, how we will ever manage to lead people to Christ if we can’t even agree on the way there ourselves.

I know plenty of people that have decided that enough is enough. If no one can agree on what to tell new Christians, they think, then why bother making them? If we can’t agree amongst ourselves, how will we ever convince others to join us? Is it even worth the struggle?

The answer, resoundingly, is yes. Even on days when I can’t explain why, I feel it deep within my soul: God desperately wants the people who are lost. And I think that we miss how important that is.

In the bible, Jesus tells a story of the Prodigal Son. This younger son gets fed up with his life, takes money that shouldn’t be his, and runs. He shirks his duty, and spends his wealth, and comes back home with his tail between his legs. But when he gets there, he finds that his father is overcome with joy at his return. Ready to forgive all that has passed, the father throws a party for his returned son.

And we love that part of the story. But this story has another figure, an older brother that stayed, and worked, and didn’t get any parties. When his brother returns, he is bitterly angry and refuses to attend the party thrown in his own home. And I completely understand why.

How dare his father decide to accept his younger brother home just like that! The younger brother has a long list of sins against him, while the older brother has been working tirelessly, and for what? So that his father could take the money they had earned, and use it to throw a party for the younger brother! How dare the father ask the elder to take what is his, what he has earned, and rain those gifts down on someone else? How dare the father ask him to uproot all that he has planned, all his expectations, for someone who has spit in the family’s face, and now comes groveling?!

Why would God ask us to use our gifts, our money, our time, and our energy to follow after people that don’t want Him? Wouldn’t it be much better, safer, easier, more efficient just to work with what we have? Can’t someone else throw the party for the outsiders who want to join the family? Haven’t we done enough?

I understand the older brother’s point of view so clearly. I find that often, like him, I am asking the wrong questions. The older brother is asking his father, “Doesn’t what I’ve done matter?” But God hopes that we will ask, “What are You doing, God? How can I be a part of that?”

In Exodus, God calls his people to be a kingdom of priests. But priests need a congregation. And ours is the world. When we ask God what He is doing, the answer will often be, “I am bringing the whole world under one head, which is Christ.” And Christ will take care of His body, the Church. So our part is not to babysit the Church, but to entreat the people who are not yet a part to come join us. And God doesn’t ask us to have it all figured out before we start: he asks us to try anyway. 

A Note on Sabbath

Never believe what the enemy tells you. He is, after all, the Father of Lies. If he tries to tell you any different, think twice before you believe him. He has built his house, not on our belief in him, but on our disbelief in anything else. He daily prods us to disbelieve the stories we hear from the news, from our friends, our family, and even our God, until we start doubting the very stories we tell ourselves. His best victims are the ones that trust only him to tell the truth, but this can only happen after they have renounced their belief in anything else.

Take Sabbath, for example. We are called to take a Sabbath, a rest from our work. God knows that it is good for our souls, our minds, and our bodies. So does the enemy. And so, our enemy first attacks by discrediting. Just like in the garden, he asks, “Did God really say that?” And he starts out slow. He begins by making us believe that God called us to other things more than Sabbath. He whispers that Sabbath is selfish, and God has called us to be self-less. He suggests that the people at work need us to help them. And then he suggests that work itself needs us. It finally comes to this: we are so weighed down by our belief in our own responsibility that, when we finally do rest as the Lord called us, we feel as if we are letting Him down. We don’t recognize our Sabbath for what it is. Sabbath, indeed, becomes a nice idea that never makes itself reality in our lives. And by this time, the enemy has won dominion over our rest. After all, what does he want but to steal the time God has given us, and use it for any other purpose? If he can accomplish that, he is satisfied.

I have no step-by-step program to fix this. But pray to the Lord of the Sabbath that he would gift you again with rest. Ask him who rested after his work was finished to give you his yoke, the one he offers to us. He has already promised that the yoke is easy, and the burden light. Ask him to trade you, and when you realized you’ve taken your own burdens on once more, ask him again. And keep doing it. Forgive yourself as often as he calls us to forgive others, seventy times seven. And see if our father, who has given his son for us, will not also graciously give us all things, including the Sabbath we so desperately seek.