God doesn’t shout his grace across a distance

“Lecturing countries from afar is an ineffective strategy.”

That’s what Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney told reporters during a July press conference on the decision to restore Canada’s diplomatic relations with Saudi Arabia. Critics argue that Canada shouldn’t engage a country with such a troubling human rights record. But Carney’s government sees it differently.

Whether you agree with the policy or not is almost beside the point. It is extraordinarily difficult to influence people from whom we have chosen to remain distant. That thought led me straight to Jesus.

Drawing near

The Gospels are filled with people respectable religion preferred to avoid. Tax collectors. Prostitutes. Lepers. Samaritans. Roman collaborators. Again and again, Jesus moved toward them rather than away from them. Not because he approved of everything they believed or everything they had done. But because God never shouts grace across a distance.

Love moves toward the other. It enters another’s world before asking them to enter ours. Maybe that’s why transformation most often happens in the context of relationship. Of course that doesn’t mean every relationship is healthy. And it does not mean truth should ever be sacrificed simply for the sake of harmony. There are times when separation becomes necessary. The New Testament itself bears witness to that reality. But withdrawal is never the first movement of Christian love.

No longer in communion

Then I thought about the decision the Christian Reformed Church in North America made to formally withdraw from the World Communion of Reformed Churches. What troubles me about that decision is that ours was one of the churches that helped shape the communion’s formation in 2010.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I recognize that there are thoughtful people on every side of the decision to leave. The theological disagreements are real. I don’t question the sincerity of those who believed withdrawal was necessary.

Still, I find myself wondering: What becomes of our witness once the relationship is gone? What becomes of our love? If we believe another church or an organization has lost its way, what possibility remains for mutual encouragement, correction, repentance or persuasion after we have left the room? It seems to me that relationship is not merely a pleasant accompaniment to truth. More often than not, it’s one of the ways the truth finds a hearing. It’s the vehicle for truth. No relationship. No credibility.

A culture of unfriending

The apostle Paul understood this. Some of the churches he planted tested his patience at every turn. Corinth was riddled with division and moral confusion. Galatia flirted with abandoning the gospel. Philippi struggled with internal conflict. Paul could have walked away. Instead, he wrote another letter. He made another visit. He prayed another prayer. Again and again, he remained in relationship, believing that grace often works most powerfully through patient presence.

I wonder if one of the great temptations facing the church today is not simply theological compromise. I wonder if it is also relational withdrawal. We have become exceedingly skilled at separating ourselves from people who trouble us. We leave denominations. We leave congregations. We unfollow. We unsubscribe. We unfriend. Sometimes those decisions are necessary, but they should always grieve us. Not only because we have lost fellowship, but also because we have lost the opportunity to actively show Christ-like love.

The gospel is the story of a God who refused to love us from a distance. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” He entered our world. He shared our table. He took on our flesh.

Without compromising truth, he embraced relationship. I believe that’s still God’s preferred way of changing people. And maybe it’s still God’s preferred way of changing his church.