Ambassadors get VIP treatment: first class seats and free champagne, red carpets and limos, valet parking and 24-hour room service. Ambassadors get interviews with world leaders and press mavens. An ambassadorship is a class act, the apex of the diplomat’s career, the privileged crown on a lifetime of public service. And after that, the lecture circuit, at $100,000 a speech. Such a deal! The members of the church at Corinth would have loved to be ambassadors. Rome? Alexandria? Athens? Where’s my entourage and expense account? Just sign me up!
“You don’t get it,” said Paul. “Your portfolio, your credentials, your calling come from God, and you already have everything you need. It’s not going to look like an imperial commission, crawling with lawyers, reporters, and assorted other toadies and boot-lickers. Quit waiting for the limo to roll up at the door. Pull up your socks and get going.”
You see, the Corinthians were expecting the Christian life to be an easy one, a showy one, full of spiritual high points, spell-binding oratory and crowd-catching miracles. They expected Paul and Apollos and other big names to pop in on a regular basis, putting on seminars and conferences, keeping the church energized - and entertained. And they were beginning to be disappointed in Paul, because he didn’t live up to their expectations of what a big-name evangelist ought to be like. He didn’t live up to their idea of what they wanted a life of discipleship to be. It looked too hard.
Paul wrote his second letter to the Corinthians full of disappointment of his own, frustrated at their unwillingness to grow up. He wrote to them sternly, urging them not to be content with a little, shallow faith, but to dive deeply into a true discipleship. He tells them, and us, “Don’t accept the grace of God in vain.” That means, “Don’t accept God’s gift of grace with empty words only, but with actions that show you know what’s going on and want to be part of it.” That means, “don’t let the message stop with me, Paul. Take up the baton in the relay race, and become ambassadors yourself, first reconciling yourselves to God, willing to accept his conditions for your life, and then showing people the path themselves.”
And then Paul goes on to tell them what a life as an ambassador for Christ is really like. He challenges them to point out anything in his life that may have given them the idea that following Christ was an easy ride, with a free lunch and an open bar. “No,” he says, “nothing I have done can possibly have given you that idea. Look at what I’ve gone through for the sake of spreading the gospel!“ and then he goes on to list the truly incredible litany of trials he’s gone through, from insomnia to imprisonment.
“No,” says Paul, “you can’t lay your failure at my door, not only have I told you absolutely everything God has told me, I’ve also shown you how to do it and what it costs. And don’t accuse me of not loving you, not having compassion for you, of not understanding how difficult things are for you. I’ve done what I have for the love of Christ, yes - but I’ve also done it for love of you. Search yourselves, my children; search your own motives, search your own reluctance. If you loved me as I have loved you, if you loved God as God loves you, wouldn’t you be willing to do what he asks, and give up your comfortable lives for him?”
Paul was an ambassador for Christ. He was sent from God to preach the message of the Gospel and equipped by God with everything he needed to get the job done. He was given purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness, love, truth and the power of God. But he was not given an easy road, a smooth road, a pain-free road. And the first step in our becoming ambassadors for Christ in our turn, is to accept that rocky road as simply the of condition of Christian discipleship.
Too many of us seem to think that God is unjust, to expect us to put up with difficulties in life when after all we’re under contract to the master of the universe. I mean, why don’t we get first class tickets? Is there a shortage, or something? We’re entitled, aren’t we? Didn’t we say “Yes” to the good news of Jesus Christ? We’ve forgiven God for the injustice of the universe, but it better not happen again, right?
Well, I’m exaggerating.
But not by a lot.
We’re spoiled, you and I. We live in such luxury. And I’ve been complaining up a storm the last few weeks first with a nasty wisdom tooth extraction, and right on top of that another one which is coming out tomorrow. As I said to a friend last week, “I know God knows what he’s doing, but I wish he’d do it in someone else’s mouth.”
What insolence. What ingratitude. What disrespect.
What God is doing in my mouth is providing me with the best medical and dental care money can buy. He is providing me with insurance to help carry the financial burden. He is providing me with friends who pray for me, and the freedom to take it a little easy for a week or so until I’m back on my feet again. What more could I ask?
I could ask for the moon, that’s what. Too often I do.
Where are you spoiled?
Are you waiting for God to do something for you before you get serious about following him?
You’ve already got your ambassador’s portfolio, your credentials, your commission. You’re probably not going to get a limo. You may not even get a vacant seat on the bus. But you don’t need to ride. All you need to be Christ’s ambassador is to start getting serious about walking with God.
