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We know the story of the Titanic well–or we think we do. On April 15, 1912, the Titanic grazed an iceberg and began taking on water. The crew took the precaution of loading some passengers into lifeboats and lowering them into the freezing waters. Did you know that only 20 lifeboats made it to the water? Most of them were less than half full with room for many more people. Despite later pleas for help as hundreds more passengers ended up in the deadly water, most of the lifeboat crews were afraid to return. Ultimately, with nearly 1,500 people dying in the water and seeking rescue, the boats rowed away. One boat was an exception. As it turns out, the officer of Lifeboat #14, Harold Lowe, did what none of the other officers did. He knew he had to respond. So he managed to get some other boats to take on some of his passengers. Then he returned to the sinking ship to pick up survivors. He knew he couldn’t save them all. But he could save some.

There is a church in Colorado that has made Lifeboat #14 its defining image. Although they care about the people in the boat, they are even more concerned with reaching those who are still dying in the icy waters of life around them. Realizing that the life God has blessed them with is intended to allow them to bless others, they are focused outward on the least, the last, and the lost.

As I think of this story, I think how Jesus was both troubled by and concerned for people who were nonchalant about others dying in “the icy waters of life.” Remember the story of Lazarus and the rich man? It is one of His most compelling stories, and also one of His most haunting.

It is a simple story really, about a rich man and a poor man named Lazarus (which means “God is my help”). Jesus says that Lazarus was dumped on the rich man’s doorstep daily. The rich man lived a decadent life while Lazarus simply longed for the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Interestingly, as soon as Jesus has introduced both characters to His listeners, He says that they both died.

Then He shocks everyone. According to Jesus, the rich man was taken to Hades (hell) while the poor man went to heaven. Although there is much more to the parable, my focus often returns to the set-up. What is going on with the rich man?

Enjoying walled-off life
Jesus doesn’t give us any indication that the rich man was a bad man. There is no suggestion that his wealth was ill-gotten. There is no hint that this was a sinful man or a nasty, uncaring person. He was simply wealthy and living his life enjoying the blessings life had brought him. But there was a problem. This man’s enjoyment of his life and blessings didn’t extend to those outside his walls, not even the one on his doorstep.

Perhaps the rich man was afraid there wasn’t enough blessing to go around? Perhaps the rich man was afraid of Lazarus, or of what Lazarus might bring into his home: disease, filth, crime? Perhaps the rich man simply thought Lazarus was too unlike him–too “other” to be concerned about him? Perhaps the rich man’s walled-off life made Lazarus and his plight simply invisible?

The truth is we don’t know what was going on with the rich man–only that his sin was not noticing or caring about the need God had placed right on his doorstep. He simply did not fully understand that whatever blessings of life he had were given to enable him to be a blessing.

Afraid of the need
Currently, the entire world is captivated by the migrant crises taking place in the Middle East, in Europe, in Africa and, of late, even here in the US. Millions of displaced people are trying to escape warfare, violence, abuse, and poverty. Like Lazarus in Jesus’ story, they are being dumped on doorsteps of others, including—maybe—our own. And like the drowning Titanic victims, they will likely see us as a lifeboat, as their only place of refuge in the frigid sea of despair and dispossession.

Like the rich man in Jesus’ story, many of us are not sure we have a place for these refugees in our lives and in our communities. Many of us will be afraid to reach out, afraid we’ll all be pulled under by overwhelming need, like the Titanic survivors in the half-full lifeboats. But God is the God who helps. And while God doesn’t expect any of us to help everyone in need, I know God has blessed us to be a blessing. I know God wants us to care for those who have been–or will be–placed on our doorsteps. I know God always has men and women like the brave officer of Lifeboat #14 who are willing to head right back into the heart of the crisis in order to bless those in need with life! I know God’s resources and strength and power are always enough. And I’m thankful for men and women of God who know that too, and who let these truths guide their lives and their actions.

In this issue of Unfinished you will read about some of the unfolding drama of the refugee crisis. You will also read stories of faithful men and women who are engaging these refugee populations in the name of and for the sake of Jesus. You will learn of life coming out of tragedy, and hope coming out of despair.

As you consider these stories, I hope you will also consider the choices facing us as the richest nation on earth. Will our carefully constructed walls of security and comfort cause us to miss those whom God has placed on our doorstep, or will we, like the people of Lifeboat #14, find a way to share the gift of life and blessing that we have so graciously received? I believe many will choose well.

The Rev. Max Wilkins is president and CEO of The Mission Society.