“17 But since we were torn away from you, brothers, for a short time, in person not in heart, we endeavored the more eagerly and with great desire to see you face to face, 18 because we wanted to come to you—I, Paul, again and again—but Satan hindered us. 19 For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? 20 For you are our glory and joy. 3 Therefore when we could bear it no longer, we were willing to be left behind at Athens alone, 2 and we sent Timothy, our brother and God’s coworker in the gospel of Christ, to establish and exhort you in your faith, 3 that no one be moved by these afflictions. For you yourselves know that we are destined for this. 4 For when we were with you, we kept telling you beforehand that we were to suffer affliction, just as it has come to pass, and just as you know. 5 For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent to learn about your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and our labor would be in vain.” (1 Thess 2:17-3:5 ESV)

Always next level, the Christian’s game revolves around a hand that will always prevail. Always, the lower hours can be coached through, advised through, deliberately hedged around. We have nothing to lose, because any despair, despondency meets One who Rose. It meets all-out warfare unto the middling spirits and the discouraging prognoses. We are no longer discouraged, nor discourageable: Christ Rose, because He could stand the ennui no longer and went immediately to the Cross. And He Rose, because death invited all sin and despair to be brought to the consuming flames of Love, of Sacrifice, of Replacement, Him in our place.

The soldier is always next level and then to the utter theology of the matter: that so little can be said about Man’s tendency to wish to Retreat unto some newfangled Legal Device. Man wants Rules and Laws and Original Deeds of Goodness, to heal the deep-rooted pain-unto-death. Man senses he, she has after all that begun to go astray, and talks up a good bargain with the Lord: let me work myself out of this ditch. Let me Focus, and in said Focal Point let me Prove myself.

Jesus love for us, therefore, calls on all systems go, all throttles full-speed, all gearshift locked into Drive. It leaves us awakened, rubbing our eyes, and basking, delighting, with a newborn’s eager tossing and turning in the Brightness, of No More boredom, of Call to Testify, Duty to Announce, Certainty to live into. It calls us to be aware: God fully acknowledges the plain weirdness—for lack of a better word—of Man in his or her unadorned state. Man has weird ways of counting and assessing, of coveting and of peeping about for a little more salacious grub. And Christ encourages the sinner in our midst to announce himself, herself. But who would dare: aren’t we, after all, on a Good Works Mission? Aren’t we too strong for the lust or temptation, the eyes that wander (such a simple sin, after all, right?).

Because we are Born Again unto a living Hope, in this we rejoice, that Christ wants us damaged goods to start out, that He might be our Victory, our Success in all He sets His mind to, our deeply-seated Reward for the penitent ones. That we had contrition… this much is Good. That it led us to make promises we can’t keep: this much is bad. God wants us strangely dissuaded, empty-handed, forlorn. He wants us so He can delight in loving us. And this much is true to say: that Strange new fasts suddenly invent themselves because of this Radical and Strange Love. We literally become New Creations, not because of said automatic tendency to have a successful bout of fasting, but because we Heard… with our ears we Heard… the Gospel of a miracle-working Saint named Christ. Suddenly we had closure, rather, we had nose-to-the-ground Opportunity to Refresh and Bask for an hour, and get back to work… work, because He has shown us His brand of labors, teaching, healing, praying and communing with the Father.

Christianity is misunderstood ninety percent of the time. To find that deflated posture, that unleavened heart, that Dying man’s, woman’s, willingness to share the proscribed Truth, the Truth that gets them outcast and killed: this is the Right Opportunity to correct the record and Love: Love the nervous contrite one, Love the one lowering her or his eyes, Love the one showcasing Joy amidst rude awakenings and hardship.