I have a good friend who is struggling with his “raison d’etre.” He longs to know why he is on the planet. He’s had a long career as an economist and college professor. He’s had a lot of experience in connecting the dots that string together the ability to monetize a project while seeing the bigger picture of creating social good with that project. It’s a space that he likes to inhabit… one that gives him a sense of greater purpose. I recently told him, “Everything you do before you turn 50, is all preparation for what you are really supposed to be doing.” It sort of blew his mind a little and now he is in a discernment phase trying to figure out the next chapter of his life. He wonders if it is time for a new job description.
Ever wonder what you are really supposed to be doing with your life? We’ve all asked that existential question. We want our lives to matter. We want to engage in worthwhile pursuits. We want to make an impact. Do our gifts and abilities find themselves in a place to meet the world’s need? Are we making a difference, or are we just going through the motions of living and dying, earning a wage, and building an ordinary life?
Most of us work under the guidance of a job description. The HR department has a long list of activities, pursuits, and tasks that should be the focus of our working life. The job description keeps us active and honest. We don’t head into work with an uncertainty of what we should be doing. The job description spells it all out in black and white. Even the other aspects of our lives have a job description of sorts… maybe more of a list of expectations. Being a parent carries a number of duties. Being a spouse puts parameters around our lives. Being a friend or a neighbor calls us into some type of accountability. We tend to, at least, understand a little of what we are supposed to do with our lives. That is, until something comes along to reframe our priorities.
I was recently reading the Gospel of Matthew. Chapter 10 is fascinating in a number of ways. It records the moment when Jesus called out His 12 disciples… the 12 men in whom He would invest His life, His heart, His teachings, and His future ministry. Matthew names them all, giving simple descriptors about each one. For example, “Simon, who is called Peter.” James the son of Zebedee.” “Simon, the Zealot.” Or of course, “Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him.” Not only does the writer name the 12 disciples, but he devotes the rest of the chapter to a description of what Jesus indicated these men would do, the perils they would face, and the journeys they would undertake. They are being sent out to bear the image of Christ before the world, in both word and action. They are told to go first, to the “lost sheep of the House of Israel.” I find it interesting that “people of God,” can be lost. Heritage alone doesn’t guarantee salvation, it takes belief and action. The 12 are sent out to proclaim to their neighbors and brothers, that the “Kingdom of God is at hand.” It is breaking forth like the morning sun.
And then, in a single verse, their job description is made clear. Jesus declares in verse 8, “Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.” Such a list was seemingly impossible, but gloriously feasible. With the authority and power of Christ Himself to undergird their journey, these 12 men take on the world.
It would be nice to think that this calling was extended to just those 12 men. But in reality, it is a calling we all share as Believers. It is our reason for being. It is our job description. Above and beyond the duties of work, parenting, marriage, and citizenship, this is what we are called to do. We are called to change the world by healing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing the lepers, and casting out demons. It is daunting. It is staggering. It is demanding. It is expected. It is indeed, both seemingly impossible but gloriously feasible. Romans 8:11 gently reminds us as we make our resolve, that the same Spirit that raised Jesus Christ from the dead, now lives in us. Such a verse should offer us hope for our journey.
The job description begins with this task: Heal the sick. Though we might want to relegate such a responsibility to doctors who are educated and trained to do such work, still the burden falls on us. More than physical healing, there are other sicknesses that need our attention. Some face emotional distress. Others languish in anxiety-laden illness. Some battle sickening wounds of abuse while others have been broken by shame, guilt, and remorse. Jesus tells us that such people are in need of our intervention. We have been sent out to heal such wounds. What is demanded of us is a gentle spirit, a patient attitude, a listening ear, and a willingness to be inconvenienced. It is to see others through the eyes of Christ. It is to long for their flourishing like a mother who dreams of all that her child can one day become. It is to sit with, pray for, cry with, and be stirred to the task of healing. It may well be that we are tasked with getting someone to the professional help that is needed. Sometimes we are in a position to be the vital connecting point that gets need in touch with resource. However, healing could take on other forms. Maybe we need to become the friend they never had. Or to simply show up when life demands companionship in the midst of a difficult moment. Medicines may help, but human contact heals. We have a healing grace to convey, if we are but willing to go forth.
The second great task is to raise the dead. That is a remarkable calling to fulfill. I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to shepherd various congregations. I’ve visited a lot of very sick people, prayed over them fervently, and days later buried them in the ground. As far as I know, none of them have been raised to life again, at least not physically. To be sure, our faith teaches us that such souls are indeed raised to eternal life through the power of Christ. And certainly we have a part in that “raising to life” moment by faithfully proclaiming the Good News of the Kingdom in the hope that many will believe. But to stand over a dead body and see it come to life again, the way Christ restored life… is something I have not experienced.
But maybe our task is not a calling reserved for physical life-giving. Perhaps in Christ’s calling, we are instructed to raise those who are dead both emotionally and spiritually. That kind of resurrection I have seen on many occasions. I know a woman whose past has caused her to die a little on the inside. She is wounded, guilt-ridden, and very withdrawn. But some friends discovered her story. They began conversations. They invited her to lunch. They refused to let her languish and in so doing they have brought her to life again. They are raising her from the dead.
I know a man whose life once took a very difficult turn. He was abused by his father and ran away from home. He turned to alcohol and drugs in an attempt to bury the pain of his life. He slipped into addiction and even prostitution to feed his habits. But one Sunday morning he called our church as a last gasp for help. “Can God ever love someone like me?” was his question. A kind, patient, and loving member of the church took the call and changed his life. About 6 months later, I baptized him as a joyful believer in Jesus. He was lost and then found, dead, and then raised to life.
Raising the dead to life will drain a little life from you. But not to worry, it will be returned in amazing ways. To give life, you have to give yourself away. You have to invest time and energy. You have to risk a little acceptance and love. You have to be patient and kind. Rather than judge, you have to heal. Intentionality to get involved has to supersede any selfishness on your part.
The third task is equally demanding. Cleanse the lepers. Let’s move our thoughts away from a miraculous healing of a skin disease and think more in terms of redeeming the marginalized. In the culture of the 1st century world, those who suffered from leprosy were outcasts, forbidden a place in normal society, often abused or shunned. They lived on the margins of society, lacking any standing or acceptance. And yet, Jesus told His followers, go seek out those people and make their lives better. Heal them and in so doing, redeem them and welcome them into community.
Our shared calling is to discover ways to make the marginalized included. It is to break down barriers, demand equity and inclusion, and welcome those who are different. It is to take those who live on the outskirts and welcome them as beloved members of our community. Leprosy takes on a lot of forms these days. The marginalized include any that we would consider as “the other.” Our list should include minorities, immigrants, those living in poverty, those suffering from mental illness, those who lack housing, those who can’t speak English, those whose cultural distinctions make them culturally unacceptable, those whose religion makes them targets, those whose sexuality violates the typical binary code, those whose physical challenges make them a burden. What we fail to sometimes see, is that all we might long to marginalize have all been made in the image of God and therefore must become the targets of our love and not our scorn. “Cleanse the lepers” doesn’t mean forcing them to look, and love, and live like you. It means removing the margins from your thoughts so that your community grows and matures.
And finally, Jesus commands us to cast out demons. Perhaps it is a call to no longer demonize people because we do not like what we see in them, but to now see in them, the things that Christ sees in them, which gave them such worth that He gave His life to redeem them. (You may need to read that last sentence again.) A lot has been written through the ages of Christian thought about demon possession. Are there supernatural, “evil beings” that inhabit individuals, or is it that the evil forces surrounding and impacting a person’s life become so ingrained that they lose the capacity for rational living? Like the Gerasene demoniac in Mark 5, is it possible that people feel so violated, so abused, so abandoned, and so dehumanized that they cry out for relief and maybe even cut themselves in an attempt to let some of the trauma leave their body? Take a closer look at that story and you may well note that when the local community only saw the demon, Jesus only saw the person.
We demonize others when we dehumanize them. And once we dehumanize them, it gets easy to hate them, and maybe even long to destroy them. Jesus demands that we cast the demons out. Maybe the demons that need to be cast out, inhabit our own lives. When prejudice, hatred, a longing for revenge, a disdain for others, a judgmental attitude, or other such thoughts that are antithetical to the Gospel take over our lives, maybe we need to cry out for our own redemption. May Christ help us to see the heart of a person and not the demons within them. In healing ourselves, we heal others.
Heal the sick. Raise the dead. Cleanse the lepers. Cast out demons. Impossible, right? But gloriously feasible with the power of Christ at work within us. Go do your job.