I Believe In A World That’s Made Clean

I believe in a world that’s beyond me
I believe in a world I ain’t seen
Past the glass
The shotgun shacks
The violent, faceless, racist facts
I believe in a world that’s made clean

I have this song on repeat, because it so fully describes how I’ve felt these last few days. I have read every possible thing I can about the refugee crisis pouring out of the Middle East, watching my European brothers and sisters welcome fleeing souls, wishing I were there to clasp weary hands and usher in weary feet and tuck in weary children. I can’t physically be there when the families wash ashore, and it makes me want to pack my bags and hop a plane and go.

I conveniently forget, or choose to ignore, that every land on this earth is war-torn. Every street is battle-scarred and blood-stained. Every one of us is an exile.

I believe in a world that’s made clean. I believe with my whole calloused heart God lets us be part of that work. I believe God can fix the world all on his own; I believe God is asking us to help. I believe God is asking us to be instrumental in ushering in new life.

I oftentimes let fear close my doors and my heart, my eyes and my fists. I hoard and I heave, hoping others are more generous, more aware. I do what is easy, instead of what is right, and good, and true. I don’t let it take root that I have a job to do; that we are all searching for home, for rest; that my faith in a world made clean is the hope a worn and weary world needs; that faith without elbow grease is hollow; that the abundance I squander has nothing to do with me, has nothing to do with God’s special favor for me, has nothing to do with my ability or skill or talent or worth; that if I am going to believe in and hope for this world beyond me, I have got to be willing to go to the places not beyond me and work toward that peace on earth.

It isn’t enough to wait on God to fix things; to appeal to him to fix things. Because he already answered every exile’s prayer for refuge.

The answer is you, and me, and the Church, the body of Christ prepared and bestowed with God’s own Holy Spirit to finish the work.

Let’s finish the work.