A privilege as we follow Jesus

The life of a Christian is easy, it’s filled with continual blessing, it’s void of conflict, and it’s abundant in peace in each and every single relationship.

This is a lie.

If anyone has been a follower of Jesus for any period of time, you know firsthand how each of us face enduring trials on this side of heaven, some may even last for the rest of our lives.

Unforgiveness and estrangement between family members.
An ailing disability, limiting mobility.
Financial setback after setback, lasting decades.
Paralyzing anxiety.
An entrepreneurial venture never materializing.
Chronic body pain.
Battling a cancer diagnosis.
Picking up the pieces after divorce.
The lingering pains of abuse.
An ongoing scarcity mindset, resulting in greed and selfishness.
The monthly reminder and nightmare of infertility.

In recent weeks, I’ve had a few rather numbing conversations:

A conversation regarding a husband that’s completely walked out on his family, a family with young children.
A conversation with a man whose anxiety has become almost paralyzing.
A conversation with those who’ve hit a standstill at reconciling family differences.
A conversation with a man whose son remains incarcerated.

As followers of Jesus, we only have one proper response when we’re confronted with these types of conversations. No, we shouldn’t try to solve the problem. As men, this is usually our first and natural default response. Nor should we give our opinions, because often they’re centered on our own experiences and trials, which shifts the focus to us. Sharing meaningful and timely stories can certainly come later, as necessary.

Instead, our response should be this: We meet them right where they are first.

I’ve found that this is perhaps the most powerful witness to the Gospel that we carry, a willingness and ability to listen to someone else and meet them where they are. Don’t we all long to be seen and heard anyhow?

I believe this to be all the more important for us as men. As men, we usually avoid conversations with others that are hard. It’s as if we’re too busy to be burdened with the difficulties of others. But could I challenge you to consider the model given to us by Jesus. We must meet others at the place of their grief and their pain,Jesus did this. This doesn’t necessarily require the gift of empathy on our part, nor does it require a degree in psychology. But it does require a heart, and it requires a willingness to as scripture states “Bear one another’s burden.”

This is a privilege that we have as followers of Jesus.

We’re given the opportunity to enter into the grief and the pain of others. And sometimes, if we stick around long enough, we’re there to experience the miracles that may come along the way. Miracles don’t always come in the way in which we would like or the timing in which we want them, but they do eventually come. That is, if we don’t give up hope, if we don’t lose faith.

Do you remember the story in scripture where the four men tore off the roof so that their friend could be healed?

What if instead of overcoming the crowd, they said, “Well that’s too bad, I guess we’ll try and see Jesus a different time.” No, they climbed on a building, used collective strength and determination, and they did whatever it took to help their friend, by tearing off a roof and lowering their friend so that he could be in the presence of Jesus.

Good grief, can you imagine if we lived like this for one another? What if we used this story as a plumb line for our own friendships….do whatever it takes to bring each other into the presence of Jesus.

In his book Becoming a King, Morgan Snyder perfectly sums up this expression. “Find like-hearted kings living in the same direction. Sign treaties. Whey they’re at war, you’re at war.”

Speaking of war. Do you want to know what we’re at war with the most in our day as men?

Apathy. Doing absolutely nothing.

If we’re not careful, each of us can easily develop a gradual lack of focus for what matters most, people. In our friendships and relationships, we’ll choose passivity rather than intentionality. We’ll opt for a life of comfort instead of sacrifice. And ever so slowly, we’ll live a life of self-preservation over sacrificial service for others. It’s easy to, in fact, the expected norm for us as men is to do this very thing. To retreat, isolate, to avoid what’s difficult and hard. But I’m sorry, as followers of Jesus, laziness and apathy is not an option, we are called to something more. If our friends find themselves here, we have the responsibility to meet them where they are first. To seek. To understand. To carry one another’s burdens. And ultimately to bring each other into the presence of Jesus.

There’s a great deal of controversy regarding how to define a man in our present day. I’m certainly not going to provide a comprehensive one here, but I will say that any proper definition will include the following:

One who puts others before himself.

Jesus did this, and we should do likewise. Yes, Jesus also retreated and spent time alone with the Father, and we should do this too. So, I’m not saying it’s necessary to disregard what you need yourself. But something I’ve become more aware of as I’ve gotten older, is that the more time I take for others, especially the ones I love and my closest friends and family.

Their pain becomes my pain.
Their battle becomes my battle.
Their healing becomes my healing.
And ultimately, their victory becomes my victory.

This is a privilege we have as men who follow Jesus. Do whatever it takes to bring your friends and your family into the presence of Jesus. The first step may very well be to meet them right where they are.

Keep showing up for one another,

Peter Ostapko

Founder | Publisher