Viral Learnings, Part Six: What We Leave Behind

Photo by Macau Photo Agency on Unsplash

Today I did something I never thought I'd do. 

I went to Costco in a mask. 

It was a little weird and a bit eerie, wondering who was around, how close they were getting, and what might be the outcome (pro-tip: the self-checkout is NOT made for a cart full of supplies). I'm used to coming out of Costco with things not on my original list (a vacuum happened today). But I never thought that what I was most worried about was leaving one thing behind--An invisible virus during a worldwide pandemic.

It takes decision and discipline to leave certain things behind.

"If any of you want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it." 

These are Jesus' words to his disciples in Matthew 16. When we look at this passage, we tend to focus on the cross that Jesus invites his disciples to take up. The cross is undoubtedly the signature of Jesus (as Brennan Manning put it), and is somehow meant to be the signature of our lives, too. 

And that should take our breath away (it certainly did for the disciples). Crosses represent sacrificial love, solidarity with the downcast, and often the adoption of a life or a calling that may be a challenge for us, but are ultimately good for others. As I think about health care providers right now, it's hard not to see their calling right now as a cross they bear on behalf of all of us.

But what is often missed is what surrounds the "cross" in this passage; what we leave behind. First, Jesus says we deny ourselves--Our own pursuits, plans, designs, whims, and comforts that make up a good part of our existence. And second, we follow him wherever he might go--Leaving our control and giving it up to the One we follow. Crosses are hard to pick up. But what may be equally as hard is to leave behind the things that make up comfort and control.

But here is the thing that I'm learning--When one picks up one's cross, what is left behind becomes less and less important.

I've been emailing this week with Drs. Aaron and Stacy (Harms) Zabriski, medical missionaries in Zimbabwe that our church supports.

When I think about their lives and ministry, raising a toddler and an infant in a part of the world with a pandemic of needs every day, my anxiety over needing to wear a mask to Costco feels a little embarrassing. But when asked about the "cross" they are bearing in their work (when it could be so much easier even now in the US), this was their reply...

Stacy: My journey to Zimbabwe involved a long road of suffering through medical school and training. I'm sure I wouldn't have finished had it not been for the Lord walking with me. At each turn when I wanted to quit, I thought, "Where else would I go? Lord, to whom shall we go?" Following Him was the only option. It was the same coming to Zimbabwe. For me, it wasn't as much feeling a burden to come, as feeling that was the only direction God was calling me. It was sort of like hearing Him saying, "I am working here. Come join me."

Aaron: For me, prior to visiting for the first time, I had some understanding of how hard life was for people in sub-Saharan Africa. But it wasn't until I saw this place for myself that I became truly convicted in my heart that I had to do something more to share these people's burdens. I think that during my first visit, every time I got tearful watching a child die of malnutrition or a hopeless HIV-infected single mother kill herself by drinking pesticides, it was God laying it on me. That feeling that I had to do something didn't dissipate when I returned to the USA. For myself, I felt burdened every day I was in the US, knowing that I could be doing more, and that God had laid it on me to do more, and that I was in a position to do more. It was almost a relief to finalize my return to Africa because then I knew I was following where God would have me go.

Wow. It turns out when one sees oneself as Jesus' disciple, the leaving becomes easier because the burden becomes a blessing. 

Isn't that the case in this challenge we are facing? When I remember the cross others are bearing to fight this virus, when I hear of those who are suffering from Covid-19, or are in the vulnerable population whose bodies are less capable of fighting it, or think of people like the Zabriski's who are willing to risk far more to bear the burdens of the sick and vulnerable than I ever will; what we've all sacrificed and left behind to care for others during this pandemic seems a lot less of a burden and more of a blessing. Staying home, wearing a mask to Costco, trying to lead our church virtually--these are small ways to shoulder the burdens of others. I'm not sure if I would really call them "crosses", but the small burdens become blessings when we consider what we've left behind.