Something that I have really appreciated about my church here in Peru are the young people who have become good friends. We call it the
jovenes group. The best translation I can come up with is "youth group" but it isn't youth group in the traditional sense. When I think "youth group", I think of hyper, smelly teenagers, ridiculous games, a lot of food, and the phrase "God bless Karl", but that's not what I am talking about at all. Although "College and Career" isn't a direct translation, it might be a better description of what I am talking about. It is basically this: every other Saturday, a group of the church's young people who are over 18 and unmarried get together for fellowship, music, a message of some sort, and prayer. Last night, we kicked off the jovenes group for the spring (fall for those of you in the States) and the church's senior pastor, Beto, preached a message that really challenged me. He spoke from Luke 9:57-62, the passage where a man says to Jesus, "I will follow you wherever you go...as soon as I bury my father" and another says, "As soon as I say goodbye to those at home." He shared 7 insights into this passage on the cost of following Jesus, but one comment in particular struck a nerve in me. Although I don't remember the exact wording, the gist of what he said was this: "If you think that by following Christ, you are doing something great and noble, you are mistaken. Considering what He did for you, serving Him is the
least you can do." Ouch. With that one comment from Pastor Beto, I realized, as a not-so-pleasant surprise, just how much I think of myself. It is far too easy for me to fall into the mindset that goes something like this: "I left my home, my family, my independence, everything that is normal to me, to serve God. I moved into an apartment with total strangers. I've had to make all new friends. I have gone to the trouble of learning another language. I spend my days with 8-year-olds for the sake of ministry..." And the list goes on. But what a convicting and much-needed reminder that we don't love God because He needs us to. We love Him, and serve Him, because He first loved us. In light of that, what could our response possibly be, other than to follow Him wherever He goes? Not as soon as we get our plans in order or take care of certain affairs at home, as the man in Luke 9 wanted to, but
now. Not because we are great, but because HE
is.
