The Pursuit of Us
It was Christmas time and I realized we’d been living in our home for about a year. Twelve months of learning a new city, a new job, a new church, and new friends. That last part had proven to be more difficult than I’d expected. While we’d hosted at least two dozen prospective friends for meals over that year, just two families had reciprocated. I’m no math whiz, but an 8% rate of return doesn’t feel very successful.
In lamenting the situation to a friend in our previous city, I confessed, “Why do I always have to be the one trying to connect? Why aren’t others reaching out to connect with me? I just want to be pursued by someone else for a change . . .”
In the years since I’ve thought a lot about those feelings. Growing up, I didn’t have what many people refer to as their BFF. Sure, I had friends, but I didn’t have this one lifelong best friend that other people seemed to have. During seasons of particular loneliness, I wrestled with God regarding this desire to be pursued.
As is the case with so many of my earthly struggles, this craving is only fully satisfied in Christ. Yet he created us as communal people designed to help meet one another’s needs. So while I must not prioritize earthly relationships over Jesus, I should and do wonder what else this desire has to teach me?
Pursuit is an interesting concept in Scripture. Similar to fear, pursuit seems to have both negative and positive connotations.
For instance, the Hebrew word רָדַף (pronounced raw-daf’) is typically translated into English as pursue, follow, chase, or persecute. While it’s found at least 143 times in the Old Testament, you can’t always tell the sentiment without considering its broader context. At the start of Psalm 7, David cries out, “O LORD my God, in you do I take refuge; save me from all my pursuers and deliver me.” And in Psalm 31:15, he repeats, “My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors!” Lest we think David might be a bit melodramatic, other parts of Scripture tell us he was, in fact, relentlessly pursued by people who wanted to kill him (1 Sam. 23–24; 2 Sam. 16–17). So when we read these words, and the subsequent verses in which he credits God for saving him, we can take comfort in knowing he speaks the truth.
In between these tales of woe, David uses the word a bit more poetically, perhaps: “Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever” (Ps. 23:6). As I breathe these words in and ponder their meaning on the exhale, I realize this type of pursuit feels like a warm, strengthening embrace for my cold and weary soul.
Similarly, the Greek word διώκω (diōkō) includes translations that might be perceived negatively (think persecution) or positively (think joyfully follow). In Matthew 5, Jesus uses this word several times as he gives the Sermon on the Mount, culminating with “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute (diōkō) you.” Also using the word to indicate persecution, John tells us the Jews started to pursue (diōkō) Jesus because he broke their Sabbath law (John 5:16). After the Jews completed their ultimate act of persecution on Jesus, he returns to confront Saul, asking him, “Saul, Saul why are you persecuting (diōkō) me?”
In fact, it’s not until after the pivotal encounter on the Damascus Road that we find this word portrayed in a different light. Of the 45 times diōkō is used in the New Testament, only a dozen indicate behaviors we should emulate. What is particularly interesting is that nearly all those instances occur in writings typically attributed to Paul.
Why? Might this change in perspective come from Paul’s own experiences with the theme? By his own account, he intensely pursued (diōkō) God’s church and tried to destroy it (Gal. 1:13). He was certainly familiar with this type of relentless persecution, having zealously participated in and even supervised it (Acts 7:54–60).
When Saul was struck blind and called out by Jesus, after having heard his message for years, I wonder if he felt just as relentlessly pursued? So much so that when he was baptized three days later, he took all the passion and zeal he’d been using to persecute (diōkō) God’s people and pointed it in a new direction, to passionately pursue (diōkō) God and his people.
Perhaps this is why he begins to use diōkō in a new manner:
“Share with the saints in their needs; pursue hospitality” (Rom. 12:13).
“So then, let us pursue what promotes peace and what builds up one another” (Rom. 14:19).
“See to it that no one repays evil for evil to anyone, but always pursues what is good for one another and for all” (1 Thess. 5:15).
“But you, man of God, flee from these things, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness” (1 Tim. 6:11)
“Pursue peace with everyone, and holiness—without it no one will see the Lord” (Heb. 12:14).
I suspect Paul’s use of diōkō, both before and after conversion, is in reference to following someone as closely as possible, with the difference residing in what happens next. When Saul pursued, the goal was to overtake and eliminate the leader. When Paul pursued, it was to attach to them so as to never again be without their leadership!
My own exploration of this word and its meaning has led me to two helpful convictions. First, I am now and will always be pursued by the greatest of all pursuers, Jesus, the Christ. He’s the same one who rescued the Israelites, redeemed Ruth, and gave refuge to David. He’s the same one who never gives up on the lost or prodigal. And he’s the same one Isaiah points to in chapter 7, verse 14: “All right then, the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means ‘God is with us’).”
Jesus’s birth testifies to God’s pursuit of his people—not the perfect people; there aren’t any of those. Rather the broken ones, like Saul, the murderer. Instead of leaving us to our own devices—particularly given our propensity to make a mess of things—he sent his Son to be a miraculously born human, humbly die in our place, and graciously save us from ourselves. This is the warm, strengthening embrace of truth that supersedes whatever fleeting emotion I may feel regarding my human relationships. Paradoxically, it is only when I selflessly pursue Jesus that my own need to be pursued can be fulfilled.
Second, I am persuaded by the other things Paul urges us to pursue, such as hospitality, peace, gentleness, and whatever is good for one another and for all. When we follow Jesus as closely as possible, guided by the Holy Spirit, subscribing ourselves to his steady leadership, we are able to demonstrate God’s love for each other and point others to Christ. It’s as if Paul believes passionately pursuing such one-anothering is a way to actively pursue God himself. What an amazing gift!
This Christmas, and throughout the new year, may our heart’s song be joined with Paul’s to say, “I pursue the goal to win the prize that God’s heavenly call offers in Christ Jesus” (Phil 3:14).
Wendy Willard has spent the past two decades deep in the trenches of child welfare, initially as a mom to two daughters, then also as a foster parent and family advocate across three US states and Nicaragua. Through writing, conversations, and service, she passionately pursues ways the Church can best care for the least of these. Follow her at gracefullyslathy.com.