Historically, many Baptists have taken issue with the notion of humans deciding who is in and who is out of the kingdom of God. I am one of those.
I like to believe we always have felt a kinship with the people in Jesus’ parables — those who went into the fields and helped to bring in a harvest.
Michael Chancellor
Paul reinforced this point when he said in 1 Corinthians 3:6, “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.” The sense of this passage is that when it comes to being kingdom people, we are merely workers — and only workers. We never get promoted to being the boss. We start as workers, we spend our lives as workers and servants, and at the end of our days, the measure of our lives isn’t found in property, bank accounts or even progeny.
One of Jesus’ final parables speaks of standing before the great throne of the Glorified Christ, where Scripture says he will separate the sheep from the goats in a rather curious way (Matthew 25:31–46).
As a West Texas city boy, I’m inexperienced with sheep and goats, or for that matter, cows, bulls and other domesticated creatures. Yet even with my city background, I could tell a goat from a sheep, but for most people, all bets are off.
“Jesus’ focus was on ‘doing’ the right thing, not ‘talking’ the right way.”
Jesus used the most common domesticated animals of his time, but the object of his parable was to distinguish between real kingdom-hearted disciples and those who were not. While we need to be careful in our understanding, Jesus’ focus was on “doing” the right thing, not “talking” the right way.
I believe living in this world as a kingdom-hearted person requires us to do three things, over and over again. Like the workers in the fields of Jesus’ time, it’s a matter of repetition.
First, we have to see. Most of us are fortunate to live our lives with the ability to see. Some aren’t so fortunate — they are sight-impaired from birth, illness or accident. For most of us, this isn’t true. With some help over the years, through glasses, surgery or other devices, we remain sighted.
However, seeing what’s around us doesn’t mean we see who’s around us. We don’t see their struggle, their needs, their weariness, their lack of resources or their exhaustion as they try to get through each day. We don’t look into the shadows for those who have been marginalized. We don’t see those who have been removed from our society, institutionalized or incarcerated.
For a kingdom disciple, it’s never about what we see, but who we see and who we fail to see.
Second, we have to be moved emotionally. It’s not just about seeing, but about being emotionally moved or stirred. Call it what you want — compassion, empathy, kindness, love or caring. What must happen is an internal shift that moves us from being an observer to one who is willing to emotionally engage — first within ourselves and then toward what we see.
This is where we begin to take a different path in this world and in our lives. Seeing and being moved emotionally is a kingdom act of a kingdom person.
For some, if they see, they judge. They weigh what they observe — and even what they don’t see — and use it to make a judgment. Part of the pushback Jesus gave to the religious leaders of his time was against their condescending judgments on a mostly poor population: they weren’t clean enough, faithful enough at the synagogue or something else.
“So much church history has been written in condemnation and fiery rhetoric.”
There is a side of Christianity — a dysfunctional side — that wants to spend all its time waist-deep in theology, making sure we have the “right” beliefs. These right beliefs rarely, if ever, transform into meaningful inner change or outer action. Picture the Westboro Baptist Church’s loud demonstrations at the gravesides of soldiers, decrying homosexuality and sexual minorities. So much church history has been written in condemnation and fiery rhetoric, leaving people with little help and deep misunderstandings about God.
Third, we have to act. Seeing, emotionally connecting with those we see, and seeking out those we do not see always ends with action on behalf of those before us and those in the shadows.
The entire measure of Jesus, the man and the Son of God, was about doing good. However, it would be wrong to say simply throwing coins toward homeless people is the full measure of doing good. Rather, it is the willingness to do what Jesus did: To stop, speak, engage in conversation, touch, help and heal.
Kingdom people are field hands. We are never more and never less. We are simply sent into the fields of this world to labor for the kingdom.
We don’t decide where we will go (ask any missionary); we don’t decide what we will grow. We simply obey the Lord of the harvest.
I once had the misfortune of working with a staff member who never was at a loss for telling you what needed to be done. His standard comment was, “You know what you need to do?” He would mess up the simplest task, yet he always knew what others needed to do. Don’t be that guy.
The fields are always ripe for harvest. The workers are always few. Let’s get our noses out of the books and get into the fields.
Michael Chancellor served 33 years as pastor of four Baptist churches in Texas, six years as a mental health manager in a maximum-security Texas prison before becoming a therapist in private practice in Round Rock, Texas. He now lives in Taylor, Texas.