Remember to Come Home After Work: Rodger Advincula

“And as Jesus reclined at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples.” Matthew 9:10

If I did nothing else right during my years at Tech, I would have at least reclined with sinners and those who would never step into a church. I thought that was enough, so this became my mission statement as I navigated those five years. If I took a closer look at the verse above, as well as the whole of Scripture, I would have noticed the last part and perhaps considered it before diving into a life surrounded by unrepentant sinners.

It seemed to be an exciting option, one where I could show the love of Christ to many others through the simple ministry of spending time in an activity with them, which in my case was mostly studying or tutoring (I figured I was being efficient by also serving).

But without a constant connection to the source of this hope, any fruit I saw would sooner than later shrivel up and die, for I was often, in the context of the verse, merely a disciple reclining with sinners without Jesus remaining as the center and, even more often, without any other disciples. That erroneous practice wouldn’t change for years.

It always appeared to work at first, but non-church-founded relationships which continued to grow beyond the status of an acquaintance produced a slippage from my walk with Christ so slowly and so innocuously that I ignored it. I didn’t care who I consistently surrounded myself with and in what community I found myself to be. In my pride, I was certain I could bring the world to Christ on my own, in my own way, and in my own time, all the while remaining unaffected by most sins I would encounter.

I didn’t think it was affecting me, at least not in any obvious ways. At first, my reversions to sin were contained to my thoughts, but before I knew it, subtle characteristics of my interactions with others also reverted. A non-God-honoring word or phrase or concept slipped out in conversation, I was a little colder and less Christ-like towards others, and I opted to spend more time with sinners than Christians. That creeping, steady descent only halted when I prayed, read Scripture, or was with the body of Christ. And even then, it inevitably continued after disengaging from these actions.

I agreed to hangouts when asked and went to The Well often enough to still feel like a part of the Wesley, even if it was less than half the time. I slowly became miserable and then became used to feeling that way. I was starving for God and yet failed to prioritize being fed. I knew the procedure was not ideal, but it was still acceptable in my mind because I thought I was still doing God’s work; I was still reclining with sinners...it was, in fact, the only thing I was doing with them.

Asking people for help when I was especially down wasn’t enough – I needed to reach out to people who would understand why I needed to realign my actions to reflect Christ’s or would point me to God rather than just tell me I could and should do whatever I thought made me happy. The people I needed, as made most apparent during the hardest times, would be found in the small church building that held the community of the Wesley Foundation.

“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

I didn’t completely realize the extent to which we Christians benefit from being an active participant in a community rooted in Christ, and I don’t even to this day. I do, however, know that it is vital to our own relationship with God, especially whenever we venture into whatever crowd we are routinely in. Ministering to those with whom we work, go to school, and live is not often successful when we are completely on our own, and it is too critical to not follow Christ’s example.

This doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t go into spaces where only we can enter and reach out to those who are put in our path at the exact time God intended them to be out of fear of losing our own way. Rather, we should go back to the community we are a part of after we do so for prayer, encouragement, advice, and perhaps to even bring a fellow disciple along to the table to recline with the tax collector.

Returning to, and remaining in, the community will help ensure that our aim remains on Christ and that we are not swayed by our proximity to the world and its sinful ways. As the verse in Ecclesiastes from earlier declares, “two are better than one,” and at the Wesley, all you have to do is ask and you will usually find that there is more than just one other person who will joyfully toil with you. 

I am reaping, and will continue to reap, the investments of time I sowed during my years at Tech and my years since. For all the sermons I missed, relationships I kept shallow or let stagnate, and wisdom I could have shared in with both, I now have the unpleasant duty of stumbling over the consequences, both the known and the yet-to-be-known kinds, and then crying out for help to get back up. I know those passed opportunities would have helped during any outreach attempts; yet my current tendency to turn towards God or the body of Christ in almost all situations, a more Christ-like perspective of the world, and new or improved methods to love people were all reaped from the time I did spend earnestly involved in that community.

Rodger (left) is a beloved alumni of Louisiana Tech and the Wesley. Rodger is currently studying for the LSAT to attend Law School. In his free time he enjoys kayaking, snowshoeing, and reading.