Going Up? - Near Burnout, An Exhausted Christian Meets His Match
What Do You Do In A World Full of Needs
“Going Up?” is a light-hearted yet thought-provoking fictional series that explores encounters between a Christian (named Christian) and individuals with non-Christian or different worldviews. Set in an imaginary elevator, these brief but meaningful conversations dive into the “what” and “why” of each perspective, blending humor and seriousness to engage readers in exploring profound questions of faith, ethics, and purpose.
The Scene:
Too much Heartache
A man named Christian steps into the elevator on a dreary Monday morning, clutching a stack of charity mailers and a church bulletin from the service the day before, the Fifth Sunday in Lent.
He has a heavy heart today. The reading from Sunday took him back to the New Testament town of Bethany, just outside of Jerusalem—six days before the Passover. Mary, the sister of Lazarus, anointed Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume and wiped them with her hair. Judas hammered her about the extravagance. What a waste! He said it should’ve been sold to help the poor. But Jesus defended her, saying something spooky about His burial and that they would always have the poor with them.
It’s that last line that troubled Christian. What did it mean? What’s a Christian supposed to do? What is Christian himself supposed to do?
Too Much Mail
He has a bag full of mail he collected over the past two weeks. His address must be on a charity list somewhere because he is inundated with appeals for financial support. He reads them all, prays over their request, and then sends what he can. He’s way behind.
Every day brings a new ache—sometimes three or four letters a day—featuring stories and photos on the envelope: a shivering dog in an alley, a beaten and battered donkey, a child with no bed, a veteran with no home, a refugee with no country.
How do you care for a world that weeps from every corner? And what is Christian to make of Jesus’ comment that “the poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me.”
He was disappointed in the sermon because the pastor punted—he lined up a missionary to speak about his overseas ministry. Even he needed something. He needed a motorbike to travel from village to village to minister and build the church there. Christian gave everything he had in his wallet—everything.
Lately, however, instead of the joy he used to have, he noticed a growing grudge against all the people who had their hands out.
SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: I’ll be writing a Holy Week mini-series called “Six Days to Silence” featuring daily posts from Palm Sunday to Holy Saturday. Every morning at 6:12 AM. Please become a Paid Subscriber to experience this Holy Week in a uniquely powerful way. The 30% off special expires this week. Sign up today!
Continuing…
Christian stepped into the elevator, sighed audibly, dropped his mailbag on the floor, and blew a long, slow breath. He was so absorbed in the challenge of charity—the problem of the poor—that he didn’t notice the man in the elevator sipping coffee from a fast-food cup. (In fairness to Christian, the Schindler 7200 is a rather large elevator, and the man wore camo fatigues.)
The Dialogue
Man (with a side glance): Rough day, or just allergic to Mondays?
Christian (startled, then half-smiling): Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you. But yeah, a little of both. Mostly…too much mail. Too many major needs. Too many asks. It’s like the world is on fire, and everyone wants a cup of water. From me.
Man (nodding): Yeah. The world is on fire. But I wouldn’t carry that burden on your back, friend. It’ll crush you. And leave you broke.
Christian: You’re not wrong. Yesterday in church there was this missionary—he gave a weeping, heartfelt testimony. And he said he just needed a motorbike to reach villages.
He said he didn’t know where he was going to find the $1,500 for one, but I knew. He was looking right at me when he said it. What could I do? I gave what I could—I gave everything! Literally, I emptied my wallet!
Man: Did he make it? Did he have enough?
I don’t know. He probably said the same thing at the 11 o'clock.
But then I get home… and there’s all this mail stacked up. Starving kids. Animal shelters. Homeless shelters. Refugees. Veterans. Two weeks’ worth right here.
I’ve got to read it today, sort it out, and divvy up some checks. I feel like I’m doing everything…and nothing at the same time.
Man (smiling): You’re one of those serious Christian, huh?
Christian: I try. My name’s… well, it’s Christian.
Man (chuckling): Oh man, that really heavy. What a name to carry. Do you share the load?
Christian (confused): What load?
Man: Of being Christian. Seems like you think it’s all on you to fix everything all the time. 24/7 and twice on Sundays.
Christian: That’s exactly how it feels.
Man: You know what that makes you?
Christian (bracing): What?
Man: A Methodist! (laughs) Sorry, bad joke. John Wesley said it—do all the good you can, by all the means you can…
But listen: he was right, and he was wrong.
Christian (grinning; interrupting): …and he was an Anglican when he said that. And I’m an Anglican, too!
Man: See? You’re doubling down! But seriously—are you giving out of joy…or guilt?
Christian (quietly): It used to be joy. Now… I don’t know. I just feel… responsible. Like, if I stop, something will fall apart.
And the thing is—I hope you take this right—I’ve got the money. A good job. A girlfriend who doesn’t ask for much. I can give… but lately, it just feels empty
Man: Let me ask you something. What’s the deepest need a person has?
Christian: You’d better answer that. I’m not my best self right now…
Man: Christian, people need to know the Lord. That’s why I always say—support your church. That’s where people meet Him.
Christian: But what about the rest of the needs? Man, there’s just… so much.
Man: My dad used to say to me you can do anything you want, but you can’t do everything you want. So for me, it’s not about doing everything. It’s about doing the next right thing.
Christian: You know the Gospel reading from Sunday was, “The poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me.”
Man: Exactly. First, get your relationship with Jesus right. Then tend to the poor. My pastor said it like this one time, “Don’t be so fixated on fixing the world that you forget to fix your eyes on God.”
Christian (looking up, slowly smiling): I’ve got to write that down. That’s perfect. And I’ll send it to my pastor. And tell my girlfriend.
You’re a Christian, right? What do you do about the needs around the world?
Man: Yep. I believe in Jesus, 100%. He’s the Man! My Man! I give to my church even though I need a lot of support. (he taps his wheelchair) But I always set aside plenty of extra money for others when I meet someone in need.
(For the first time, Christian notices the man’s wheelchair.]
Christian: I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice your wheelchair.
Man: No, you’re good. It’s weird you didn’t see it. I’m sitting down. But that’s how I knew you were overwhelmed. You looked at me, but you didn’t see me.
Christian (embarrassed): You’re totally right. (Pauses and laughs) Hey, it was your camo. It worked!
Man (laughs at the camo joke): Look. Here’s the deal: I’m going to do something for you that you never thought would happen to you.
Christian (intrigued): What’s that?
Man: I’m a vet. I’m a wounded vet, as you can see. I live in one of those homes people like you helped build — for people like me. I also receive disability from the government. But I don’t spend everything every month. I support my church. But like I said, I save on the side. And I always take extra cash with me.
My dad called it the 3:23:22 Plan.
Christian (confused): What does that mean? Sounds like my old locker combination.
Man (smiles and remembers): It’s the coordinates of a bible verse: The third book of the Bible, twenty-third chapter, twenty-second verse.
Christian (flustered): You got me…What is Leviticus 23:22?
Man (proudly): It’s my motto: Don’t reap to the edge of your field; don’t keep everything for you. Leave some for the poor and the ones who need it. 1
And I’m glad I do it because the next right thing for me to do is to buy you lunch.
Christian (softly): No way! I know I’m out of cash, but I have a credit card. I’ll buy you lunch.
Man (grinning): Nope. That’s not what’s going to happen. You’re not my Savior. He already came. And He told me this morning I would meet someone hungry. That’s gonna have to be you, Christian.
(The elevator dings, and the doors of the Schindler 7200 slide open.)
Christian (after a pause): Let’s go then. After you…
Man: No, please. You first. I can manage myself.
Christian: Hey… it’s Easter soon. Would you come to church with me? I’ve got a few other people coming, too. I’ll save a whole pew!
Man: Okay, but are you buying lunch after church?
Christian: Love to! I’ll save up for it!
Man (grinning): Then I’m there. But don’t worry about saving a pew for me. I bring my own chair!
Conclusion: What’s the Next Right Thing?
Christian’s story is probably your story, too. The mailbox fills. The emails pile up. The commercials tug at your heart. The needs feel endless. And they are. Jesus said, “The poor you always have with you,” not to excuse us from caring, but to remind us: we are not the Savior.
That’s His job. Still, the Bible says this:
But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? —1 John 3:17
So what are we to do? Here’s one way to think about it:
Start with Jesus.
Before giving to anything else, tend to your soul. Give your heart, your trust, your time, and yes — your resources — to Christ. Support the ministry of your local church. That’s where people meet Jesus, week after week.
Don’t Live Too Large
The command from God in Leviticus is a life-giving policy. We are always more joy-filled when we help people with the money we keep for that purpose. Joy is renewable. Let the Spirit lead you to give cheerfully and generously — not to every need, but to the next right one. In other words, look for ways to share.
It’s okay not to respond to every appeal. Instead, set aside a portion of your income — intentionally — so you’re ready to give when a meaningful opportunity comes along. Generosity doesn’t need to be reactive, but it should always be ready.
What’s the next right thing for you?
If you enjoy this kind of writing, why not share it? Why not support it? Join my growing community of Paid Subscribers. It’s 30% off until the Friday.
The Anglican is the Substack newsletter for LeaderWorks, where I share insights, encouragement, and practical tools for clergy and lay Christians. I’m also an author of over a dozen books available on Amazon.
If you are a Paid Subscriber, thank you! Thank you for supporting The Anglican and the ministry of LeaderWorks. If you are not a subscriber, please consider becoming one today.
Leviticus 23:22 reads, “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to its edge, nor shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest. You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the LORD your God.”