An Open Letter to Our Tech Savey Leaders (Whom We Love)

From a little Brother,

To the Elders,

Tell me what it’s like to be moved with compassion.  I know sympathy; teach me empathy.  Teach me what it's like to see a stranger, diseased and repulsive, and to not rest until he is made well.  Tell me what it’s like to be moved by them, to make their interest my own.  Teach me how to be ever content in Christ so I may forget my own woes and bear the burdens of my brothers. Model compassion for me out of compassion for me.

I read of the life of Christ and a fire burns in my bones.  I want to love like that! I know his compassion for me. I see how great of a dive it is to pull me from the depths of my grave I dug, and I am thankful.  I can’t replicate it.  When a mite of compassion sweeps through my veins and a love for my neighbor swells in my heart, I freeze.  I am cold.  Can I be taught to move?

I hear you teach theology and it calls to me.  The knowledge of God beckons me to love.  I revel in it! Don’t count me a one who rejects wisdom’s invitations.  I sit at the lowliest seat of her banquet, hoping to be pulled higher.  But brothers, do you draw for us a map to the heart of God and not expect us to go running towards it?  Have you seen yourself?  I know you have.  You must know how it feels to have great intent and weak pursuit.

What I’m trying to say to you (those of you with names on books, those of you who hold the nation's ear, who bear the face of evangelicals) is: I can be a jerk on twitter too.  That’s easy.  I need you, we need you, to help us with something hard.  So I beg you, like a child full of pure need, to have compassion and please, as James reminds us, to think before you tweet.