I beg your indulgence. This post is designed to encourage and give clarity to people in my line of work. It’s not meant to exclude anyone else. To some of you, it might sound a little us-focused, but this one is for them. They could use the encouragement, so I hope you understand.
This is for all you apostolic workers out there, and for those of you struggling to understand us.
Blood is considered a connective tissue. It’s not muscle, not bone, not an organ. People like me, like my team mates, are blood. The apostolic worker is connective tissue, and more specifically, blood. In the global body of Christ, we’re the blood.
In your body, where is your blood? It’s not here, it’s not there, yet it’s everywhere. It has no home, except everywhere, and when it does stay in one place, it stops being what it is. It carries bits from one part to another, and carries fresh oxygen to the whole. It is homeless, yet is somewhat at home in the whole Body.
We’re the blood. It’s important for us to remember that. We won’t feel at home anymore anywhere. Wherever we go, we’ll be a little different, and our job will be to be a little different, because we’re carrying within us some of what it means to be the last place we were. When I go to the States, I’m a little Narnyan, and that’s what I’m supposed to be. It makes me lonely, and that’s alright, because what I am able to bring to those I love in the States because of my experience being somewhere else is worth it to me. And when I return here, some of the grace and light I experience with my believing friends in the States comes with me, spreading strength and perspective to my team mates and helping me encourage believers here.
My friend Phil lives in Antioch. He IS Antioch. He’s made of Antioch. He incarnates Jesus as an Antiochan. That is what he is for. He is bone and stability and place. The located necessity.
My friend John is a networker. He pulls people together and helps them give their strength to each other. John is a ligament. Without him, two strong muscles would never be able to connect to truly move the body. They couldnâ€™t produce coordinated action. John makes that possible. The binding necessity.
There are other organs, other parts, other muscles. And each is necessary.
But we, friends, we’re the blood. A little lonely everywhere, yet able to live anywhere. And that’s what we’re for. We’re weird, not because our clothes fall out of style, but because we have been broken and remade on a different potter’s wheel. No one will likely ever really understand us, except another one of us. We will only be at home in the whole world. And that’s ok. We’re the blood. The homeless necessity.