Where is Our Treasure?

I had a brief conversation recently with a young man who has suddenly found himself unemployed. I was so busy empathizing with the feelings that swirl at such a time that I was caught flat-footed when he mentioned, almost in passing, that he is having a mini-crisis, if not a full-blown crisis, of faith because, after giving of himself to his vocation for more than 16 years, he lives in a "poor neighborhood" and he has "no retirement". He is considering other vocations, among them those that rank high in income and retirement benefits.

What I wish I would have asked, what I wish I had thought of at the time, is the simple question, "Where would you find that in the Bible?" Where stands it written that everyone who follows Jesus and works their job with integrity will end up in at least a middle-class neighborhood, if not an upper middle-class neighborhood? Where stands it written that a good retirement package awaits those who are faithful to Jesus? Where stands it written that we're supposed to "slow down" in mid-life and live off our investments? How do we explain the millions of Christians throughout the world who walk in faith and trust Jesus and go to work every day and give of themselves to their jobs, families and churches and go home to barrios and squalid high rises and simple grass huts? How do we explain the millions of Christians throughout the world who go to bed hungry and give what food they have to their children?

I had to wonder if he has been reading books that promise a "better you."? Did he miss the part at the end of Hebrews 11 where Christians, of whom the world is not worthy, were tortured, mocked, flogged, chained, imprisoned, stoned, sawed in two, killed with the sword, wore skins of sheep and goats, were destitute, afflicted, mistreated, wandered about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth?

In his defense, he is still trying to figure out what to do next and he does have children to feed and a wife to support. But therein lies the power of his statements. In his pain he speaks what he believes. In his distress he speaks without screening his words. In his worry about providing for his family, he removes the mask. And it is in recognition of that pain, distress and worry that I find myself moving from dismay to compassion for this brother who has a lot to sort through and figure out (about himself and about God) during this season of transition.