Some who read this will be aware of a young lady, I think fifteen years old, who needs a heart transplant if she will reach young adulthood. She is blessed to be raised by believing parents and we are joining them in prayer for their daughter. It sometimes feels awkward asking the Lord for this because, for her to live, someone else will die. Nevertheless, we are grateful that, amid such sorrow, the Lord has enabled human beings to have the skill to use a tragedy in the life of one to be means of life for another. Kind of like the gospel. The worst evil ever commitment was the murder of God’s Son and yet this was all a part of God’s plan to save sinners (Acts 2:22–24). Praise God for his indescribable gift (2 Corinthians 9:15)!
I received an update the other day that she has been officially placed on the national register in her country for a heart transplant. As she and her parents have been reading the relevant information pertaining to the transplant procedure, they confess it has been emotionally troubling. So many uncertainties. So many vulnerabilities. So many risks. And yet the risks do not outweigh the life-saving benefits. Therefore, when a heart becomes available, then, despite the concerns, they plan to proceed. The outcome is worth the risks.
As I pondered this, I was reading about Paul’s heart issue concerning the church at Corinth. In 2 Corinthians 6:11–13, after having transparently reminded the church at Corinth of his Christ-centred, gospel-committed, love-driven ministry to them, he makes the passionate appeal that they “widen their hearts,” that they open their affections to him. His desire was a selfless one. For, if they will open their hearts to him, he can continue to minister to them for their benefit. Though, in a sense, Paul will suffer the pain of vulnerability, others will benefit. His enlarged heart has proved painful, but for the Corinthian church it is proving beneficial. And yet, just as Paul had to accept the risks associated with transparent vulnerability, so would they. And as with the young lady above, the outcome is worth it.
Love is risky and “widening” (enlarging) our hearts by openly sharing our affections for others can make us vulnerable to humiliation, and, in an estranged relationship, to even greater rejection. And yet, as the apostle Paul wrote, it was a risk worth taking.
When it comes to the risks associated with relationships, I suppose safety can be had at the price of silence. Insulation from disappointment can be enjoyed in exchange for isolation from people. One only needs to keep others at arm’s length. But at what cost? At the cost of meaningful relationships, the cost of stunted spiritual growth, the cost of missing out on life-enriching experiences; yes, including the really painful yet often the most productive ones. But most importantly, when we refuse to enlarge our hearts others will suffer.
A mother who refuses to sacrifice for her child may raise a person who lives with great insecurity. A person who lives in a self-protective emotional cocoon robs others of their friendship increasing the number of “all the lonely people.” And a church member who autonomously adopts a this-far-and-no-further mind (heart!)-set relationally defrauds the church of their fellowship and giftings.
Yes, widening our hearts by “confession of our affection”; enlarging our hearts to make room for others, including their baggage; opening our hearts to the risk of rejection is a risky endeavour that may lead to pain. Yet in doing so we are also exposed to the beautiful vistas of enriching the lives of others. And in the process, our own lives are also enriched. Therefore, brothers and sisters, let us enlarge our hearts for the good of others, for the glory of God.
Doug