In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. (1 Peter 1:3, NIV)
I currently live in three worlds.
First, in my imagination, I live on a mythical island in the Orkneys. I go there every day in my mind as I write a golf novel about the greatest golf course in the world.
Second, my real world is being retired, living at a golf course community in Alabama. My biggest personal challenge some days might be “coming over the top,” or “can’t make a putt,” or “the grooves on my wedges are gone.” I quit golf at least once a week.
This golf world includes hanging with some very lost souls at times. I met such a soul recently on the course. He was drinking Bloody Marys before 9 a.m. while discussing his hangover with great pride. Jesus Christ was mentioned only to describe a chunked wedge on a short par-4.
And then, waiting on a tee, he told me about one of his golf buddies who lost tens of thousands at a Mississippi casino. He delivered the story in such a way that surely this other guy must be what we all aspire to be. After all, he sold his company for millions at age 41 and was rich enough to lose six figures in one night without missing a beat. How great would that be, right?
But as I was hearing his casino story, my third world came crashing into my mind through a text message asking for urgent prayer. It was about the devastation of COVID in India. The text was quite personal, because a ministry partner, age 41, was sick in the hospital with the virus. I first met Joel when he was nine years old. Now a sold-out 24/7 missionary, he was giving himself every day to help destitute and desperate people.
The contrast was so vivid. Joel has no company to sell for millions. Only millions of souls to be saved. And now he was just one of the multitudes of people sick and suffering in this third world of mine. Our weekly Zoom prayer meetings for India were starting to feel like a futile cause.
So, back to the casino story, I had to say something. With a smile on my face to hide my inner aggravation, I just told my new friend, “What a shame to throw away so much money at a casino when it could do so much good,” and then I mentioned the overwhelming humanitarian needs in India. He stared at me with wonderment, speechless.
I immediately knew this man was more lost in his riches than the poorest of the poor will ever be in their poverty.
Jesus has a bold message in red letters for our country club set: “You say, ‘I am rich. I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing’. But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked” (Revelation 3:17, NLT). And I would add, clueless.
But hopeless? No. God himself has sent some of us as missionaries to these golf environments to speak hope and truth. “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have” (1 Peter 3:16, NLT).
Sadly, Joel died last week. His wife and kids and fellow workers at Living Hope School for orphans and destitute children are mourning his loss, but it is with living hope, not despair.