What If . . . . ?

“Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’” (Matthew 25:37-40)

It first appeared in early 2013 on the campus of Regis College, University of Toronto, Canada. “It” is a sculpture which depicts Jesus as a homeless person sleeping on a park bench. “Homeless Jesus” or “Jesus the Homeless,” by Canadian sculptor Timothy Schmalz, was intended as an interpretation of Matthew 25. But “it” wasn’t universally well received (yes, “homeless Jesus” got evicted from several locations before finding a more permanent home). Why? Probably because it confronts us with uncomfortable truth that challenges some of our comfortable misconceptions. It’s one thing to say that Jesus loves the homeless, or that we should see the face of Jesus in the faces of the homeless. But it’s far more unsettling to actually depict Jesus as a homeless person (the figure on the park bench is indistinguishable under a blanket, except for his feet, which are exposed . . . and pierced). And it’s even harder to see the face of Jesus in the face of a homeless person sleeping on the sidewalk or in the faces of 50 homeless people camped out in front of City Hall in Spokane this week. Okay, in all fairness, Jesus never said this would be easy. But, hey, He never warned us that it would be this uncomfortable, either. After all, shouldn’t these people go and get jobs and solve their own problems. Isn’t that what Jesus would do? (er, the “real” Jesus, rather than the uncomfortable one sleeping on the park bench). But what if “homeless Jesus” isn’t just a sculpture?

What if “homeless Jesus” is a prophetic challenge to the Church, challenging those “who have ears to hear” to a deeper and more meaningful discipleship of walking with, loving and serving the marginalized, not on our terms, but on His. In the Kingdom of God, discipleship is always on Jesus’ terms; not ours.

What If . . . . ?

“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?” (Isaiah 58:6-7)

Writing in “The Root Of The Righteous,” A.W. Tozer observes that we live in a time when Christians want “the fruit” without “the root.” Says Tozer, “The bough that breaks off from the tree in a storm may bloom briefly and give to the unthinking passerby the impression that it is a healthy and fruitful branch, but its tender blossoms will soon perish and the bough itself wither and die. There is no lasting life apart from the root. Much that passes for Christianity today is the brief, bright effort of the severed branch to bring forth this fruit in its season.” Tozer isn’t alone in this observation. John Wesley expressed a similar thought nearly 250 years ago when he asked, “Why are we not more holy? Chiefly because we are enthusiasts, looking for the end without the means.” Apparently, certain things about our walk as disciples of the Kingdom simply don’t change much over time.

I want to apply this “root” versus “fruit” principle to the above passage from Isaiah (and, yes, there is an important application regarding our work among the homeless and marginalized. Wait for it . . . ). Isaiah 58 represents the “high water mark” for Old Testament teaching on the spiritual discipline of fasting. I’ve read and studied these verses many times over the years, even writing a devotional chapter on this passage for my devotional book on fasting, Not By Bread Alone. But time, experience and our walk as disciples of the Kingdom can teach us things that we’ve never seen before. After all, in the Kingdom of God, spiritual maturity is the product of truth experienced over time. Scripture offers many examples and reasons for fasting. I’ve personally identified more than forty examples, and nearly as many reasons. I had fasted regularly for many years and had written two books on the topic before the truth of Isaiah 58 fully dawned on me. Over the years I’ve come to understand fasting as an act of profound personal repentance, as well as a profound act of personal sacrificial worship. But there’s more. With Jesus there always is. In the Kingdom of God, one of God’s great purposes for fasting (and prayer) is to seek Him on behalf of the poor and the marginalized, “to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him.” In case you missed it, Isaiah 58 is the Old Testament prophetic foreshadowing of Jesus’ teaching concerning “the least of these” in Matthew 25. To return to our original point (a la Tozer and Wesley), the biblical discipline of fasting is “the root.” What’s “the fruit”? We find it summarized in verse 12, “And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in.” Don’t we want to raise up a solid foundation for future generations? Don’t we want to be called repairers of the breach, and restorers of streets to dwell in? Yes, we want that kind of “fruit,” but are we willing to gain it by returning to “the root” of fasting and prayer on behalf of the homeless, the hungry and the marginalized?

What if Isaiah 58 is a prophetic challenge to the Church, and one that we’ve ignored for far too long. And what if the “welfare” – the Shalom – of our City or community (which we’re commanded to pray for in Jeremiah 29:7) depends upon our willingness to obey Isaiah 58?

What If . . . . ?

“Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains might quake at your presence – as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil – to make your name known to your adversaries, and that the nations might tremble at your presence!” (Isaiah 64:1-2)

But there’s more. With Jesus there always is. What if the blessings of Isaiah 64 – the blessing of God’s visitation and spiritual awakening among His people – are somehow dependent upon our obedience to Isaiah 58. Yes, what if both the shalom of our community and the spiritual awakening we’ve all desired and prayed for over the years is somehow tied to our willingness to obey Isaiah 58? What if our obedience to Isaiah 58 and Matthew 25 embodies the Church’s key to experiencing Isaiah 64. Let’s be clear. I’ve studied the history of revival enough to know that there isn’t any formula for bringing it about . . . with one notable exception. Genuine heartfelt prayer and fasting on the part of God’s people.

What if, at this particular moment in God’s dealings with His Church, spiritual awakening in our generation is tied to our willingness to fast and pray on behalf of the homeless, the hungry and the marginalized.

What if “homeless Jesus” is a prophetic challenge to the Church?

What if God is challenging the Church of our generation to obey Isaiah 58, to fast and pray for the homeless, the hungry and the marginalized, and to discover the face of Jesus in the face of the homeless and marginalized?

What if our Postmodern Culture, which is increasingly skeptical of and turning away from church and Christianity as they have known it, is waiting to see if our deeds of serving those in need will match our words, our fasting and our prayers. I find it interesting that, in periods of historic spiritual awakening, God has always dealt with His Church, to make them a believable witness before skeptical unbelievers. After all who wants to believe and embrace a message that doesn’t appear to work in the life of the messenger.

Now comes the critical question: When was the last time you and your Church fasted on behalf of the hungry, the homeless, the naked, the stranger, the prisoner, and the marginalized? What if it’s now the time?

What if . . . . ?