Champion the Fight; Don’t Make it Invisible

** piggy-backs are not just for children. This piece is a response I wrote a while back to something my friend wrote called “Fight to the Life.”  Read her post to find out the ratio of fight to victory in the Christian life. One particular thing she mentions is how much we keep the battle to ourselves within the church but shouldn’t, and if that interests you, keep reading this post. **

Unpopular opinion: the church doesn’t handle suffering well at all.

The life of a christian can be summed up in the word sanctification: the process of becoming more like Christ. It is a refiner’s fire that can at times feel more like refinement and polishing, while at others more like a literal fire, neither of which has a dominance over the other. The phrase “everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about” is so true– every christian is fighting. Each of us endeavors to increase the accuracy of the image of Christ each of us bears, daily encountering a battle on any of several levels.

Why then does the church focus more on the victories than the fights themselves? The church does well at celebrating the victories that occur, most often when the battle has been against a “very big sin” or a large physical struggle, such as cancer or marital struggle or chronic illness or alcohol addiction. Otherwise, the struggle is a little too taboo and is glossed over, because things like pornography and suicidal thoughts and infertility (to name a few) are too messy for in front of the congregation or during fellowship hour. The church also does decently to address the battle of the Christian life from the pulpit, but not necessarily in a way that can be easily applied to the everyday struggles each of us face, struggles deeper than general discouragement or wavering faith. We acknowledge the fight here and there, but never champion each other in the fight or talk about it in a very down to earth, everyday manner.

As members of the church, it should not always be true that “everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.” I’m not saying we should suddenly bare our souls and deepest troubles to everyone in our church, but we should not shy away from the facts anymore that not every day, not even every Sunday, is a good day. We should not dodge around an honest explanation of what we are going through. Let’s talk deeper than a vague “I’m just having a hard time” or “It’s just been a discouraging week.” We should be making a stronger effort to champion each other in the seemingly “small” and “large” struggles we know those close to us in the church are facing. We should be acknowledging their existence in an honest yet loving fashion, at the very least. We need something deeper than Scriptural platitudes (“keep trusting God,” “rejoice in the Lord always,” “God will work things out,” etc). We need something more than saying a prayer Monday morning.

We need honest recognition of what we’re facing and how that feels to us in our finite humanity. We need to connect with the people who sit next to and in front of and behind us. Those whose kids are friends with ours. The others in our small group or Bible study. The new people who walk in and dare to sit near you. The youth kids who don’t always conform to church’s tradition.

I know this can seem difficult. The sermon is to encourage one another in the Lord, but how is three minutes of greeting time supposed to build a strong enough connection in which to know what that woman three rows over really needs to hear? The sermon is to practice acts of kindness, but how is adding the new young adult to the college student care package list sufficient to knowing their needs? To champion the fight means to build connection and relationship and trust with one another, and then to take it a step further. To champion the fight of the person next to you means asking an update on their life, then taking it a step further, asking how they feel about what’s happening in their life or how they’re really reacting to it. Maybe you pray right then with them. Maybe you’re honest about not knowing how to properly empathize but longing to care for them well. Maybe you ask how you can meet their tangible needs this week. Maybe you ask if you can bring in others into this circle to help as well.

This is not one-size-fits-all. This is not an easy or perfect solution. But this is a place to start, this is the point at which you think further, not just to make it easier for you to check off, but to find where God is leading you to fight alongside your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Christians are not single-person armies, fighting alone but reporting victory back at main camp; we are one church and one body of Christ, fighting with and for each other together– impossible if we know nothing until it’s over. Every christian fights a battle they bring to the cross for others to join.