What part of “Go” do you not understand?

by Charlie Miller
Pastor, Lima Baptist Temple, Lima, OH

Editor’s note – Charlie Miller is subbing this month for Charles Lyons who is taking a sab­batical.

On the flight back from the national meeting in Ft. Worth, I took some time to digest all of the challeng­es, charges, and commands I heard from the church planters and pastoral leaders. My head was full of quotes, ideas, and new names. My heart was heavy — sagging from the weight of knowing I was returning to a broken city that needs someone (really anyone) to “have com­passion” on them and to “make a difference.”

En route, I overheard another conversa­tion where a mother asked her son, “What part of ‘No’ do you not understand?” I smiled. I knew how that kid felt. He was smarter than me though — since he did not actually answer the question. After a chuckle to myself, I settled in. Then God spoke to me, “What part of ‘Go’ do you not understand?” I don’t mean to imply that I heard an audible voice, but I know with certainty that God was speaking to me.

My mind was drawn back to the Great Commission. “Go into the world and make dis­ciples.” What part of “Go” did I not understand? I introspectively interrogated myself, “Am I going … and where do I ‘go’ when I am ‘going?’”

You see, I am a pastor, but is my flock lim­ited to those who come within the confines of my fence? I am a church-builder, but am I building church buildings, or am I building the church? I am a leader, but am I leading people to reach out or merely holding meetings?

Am I actually going into the world to make disciples? Am I leaving the monastery, the books, and the controlled environment and going into the world? Am I a farmer in the field planting and harvesting, or am I in the barn convinced that the better part of the work is already done?

What part of “Go” do we not understand?

It is not as if I have not personally led any­one to Christ in the last year. In fact I have per­sonally led three people to Christ this past year. But, what makes me uncomfortable is that they found me. I did not find them. They came into my church. Thank God for that — but I should go into the world.

So what do I do with this? God speaks vaguely to me most of the time … or so it seems. I have been praying, reading, and meditating (not like in yoga — just thinking while I walk). I just could not figure it out! I confess I became a little frustrated with God. “You speak to me on a crowded plane when I needed to sleep — yet, here I am wide awake and begging and you give no answer?” Does God ever do this to you?

I awoke this morning. I went through my usual ritual: breakfast, quiet time, Facebook. I had a friend request and two pending mes­sages. I clicked and found a request from a stu­dent in our first student ministry. I accepted and went to his page to see how he was doing. I was very interested since this young man was extremely gifted in several areas. As I looked at his page I knew that his life was radically differ­ent from the way it was 12 years earlier.

I opened my messages and saw that one was from him. There was a long message from this young man. The last 12 years had included alcohol, drugs, illicit sex, jail, attempts on his life, and homosexuality. My heart was broken. I continued to read. He said he had reached out to me because he thought we were the only ones who loved him.

I wept as I read it. I weep now as I write about it. We messaged back and forth several times. I gave him my number so I could speak with him. So far he has not called. I love this young man, and I hope I have the opportunity to help him.

Later I was driving to get my girls from school — still thinking about my former stu­dent. I have a bit of a commute to the school, and it takes me through a neighborhood most people don’t want to live in. It is here that God speaks again to me, “You can’t help your friend right now — he’s too far away. But you can help these people.” While stopped at the light, I saw a teenager giving drugs to another teenager.

God forgive me for driving through a neighborhood without trying to reach it. God forgive me for stepping over the hurting with­out trying to help. God forgive me for not going into the world. My heart is terribly heavy now. There is a neighborhood across the street from my church that no one has reached. I will go into it. There is a neighborhood I drive through that no one has reached. I will reach it. I have no idea what that looks like right now. Are we talking campus extensions or church plants? I really don’t know, but I am not waiting for the whole plan. I am simply going to go. God will share the rest with me when I need to know. For now, I will just go.