The thought of “living between two worlds” is far from new. In fact, googling “between two worlds” gives me more hits than I can even begin to imagine. I can see why this phrase has got much play throughout the years, but it seems like it has fallen afresh on my life, my heart and myself. I guess, it began a couple of months ago when my pastor, Phil Davis (a.k.a. Philly D to the double D), were sitting down talking about the next sermon series we would do at church (I’m so, so thankful Phil brings me into this and gives me preaching opps! Thanks Phil!). I had suggested 1 Peter because God had used in my life over the last year and I thought it would be a great book for our community to go through. Little did I know, that God would rock my world with it as He has!

So as we decided on 1 Peter I began studying it on my own and the first verse alone and the ramifications of the two words “elect exiles” got me. I had learned the churches Peter was writing to weren’t marginalized only because of their actual social standing, but their faith led to an association that had no social acceptance. One can’t help but see some loose parallels between the churches in Pontus, Galatia, Cap-padocia, Asia, and Bithynia and the life of a Christ-follower living in the Czech Republic (remember that nearly 89% of this country says, “I’m Czech, I’m an atheist” and the church makes up less than one third of one percent!). Granted, direct opposition and complete indifference are two very different things (Or are they? I’ve questioned myself lately on that one!), but the words, “exiles,” “wanderers,” “pilgrims” and “strangers” make sense for me living here in a way where they never would have if I had lived in America. Then as I’ve read the Labyrinth of the World and the Paradise of the Heart, by Jan Amos Komenský (John Amos Comenius) I wrestled with two quotes, 1) “A pilgrim is an outsider, a voluntary exile in search of a spiritual home,” and 2) “My [Komenský] life was continuous wandering. I never had a home. Without pause I was constantly tossed about. Nowhere did I ever find a secure place to live.” Oh Jan, I feel you bro. I understand those words, granted I didn’t have to deal with the exile and running for my life that Jan had to, but I understand what he was trying to say, and that only makes me long for my true home and my true residence in heaven. Nonetheless, all of this brought the thoughts of ‘living between two worlds’ back into play as of late and it gave me words for what I’ve been feeling.

Many back home, in the States, and even here, assume because I’ve been studying this language for more than a year, collectively, that I am fluent and I’ve mastered it. Due to the difficulty of the language, that isn’t, sadly, true, yet! I’m hopeful that God will continue to help me progress within the language but right now I’m in a strange spot with the language – I understand nearly (90%) of everything going on around me, but cannot communicate back to that same degree and it can be so very frustrating! I’ve been told this is completely normal in the language learning process, especially with Czech; however, that doesn’t make it easier when I’m living it. See I’m caught between the “American World” and the “Czech World” and I have no idea how to get out or better how to live in between. I’ve thought much lately about what it means to be part of the Lord’s work in the redemption of culture; for instance, do we attempt to even change any given culture or do we look at a given culture, then champion the aspects of it that are reflections of the image of God and look at what culture I come from, then do the same and then work at creating a new culture – a third culture of sorts. I’m not sure if that was understandable, or even readable, but it gives you an idea of what has been going on in my mind.

What this means practically for me, is that God is teaching me a lot about my identity. It would seem that it always comes back to my identity in Christ. The fact that I’m love and accepted by the Father, through Christ, is what I’m continually coming back to. This is how this has played out, as I understand what is going on I see avenues to share the hope that I have in the Lord, who loves me so much and has given me an unspeakable hope, but I’m not sure how to respond to them, or know perfectly how to respond in such a way where they will understand me, so what do I do? I add a, “Jo, jo, jo…” (yeah, yeah, yeah) or “Samozrejme” (naturally) or something along those lines. The whole time feeling like I’m not able to be my true self in many respects. Then there are two ways to respond, 1) self-pity that says, “Woe is me,” or 2) preach to myself. So I preach to myself, “Zach, you are loved and accepted, keep trusting,” again and again and God places that hope in my heart.

I’m not sharing this with you to score “pity points” but to share my heart and struggles with you so that you might be able to pray but also be able to sympathize, even empathize with me, and thus God move in your heart too. Those of us, who claim to be Christ-followers, are those who live as ‘pilgrims, as outsiders, as those who, by God’s grace, have voluntary chosen exile’ need to feel this feeling, to some degree, in the midst of living in the world in the midst of a larger culture that isn’t “down with” the truths of what we believe. What would this produce in us? That is what I’ve been asking myself, “What would realizing this change about you Zach? How would your worship be different? How would your day-to-day life be different? Would your life, and faith, look differently to those that you’re living life amidst?” The questions could go on, and I hope this doesn’t give you a ‘silver bullet’ spiritualism, but it messes your world up a bit and makes you look to the King and also that it would send us out into the world living lives that are beautifully hopeful to those who lack hope in a world full of cynicism, hate, fear, lack of any true security, and much more. May the mess begin… Thanks for stopping by today…