In 1992, after years of struggles, protests and court battles, social activists prompted the government to conceive the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). Their efforts gave birth to an era of improved compassion in the United States. Ironically, this era also nurtured a misconception among Christians about the nature of compassion.

Those of us who were adults in the early ’90s remember the changes that began taking place almost immediately after the ADA passed. Sidewalks lowered themselves at crosswalks and restrooms opened themselves to receive wheelchairs. Public buildings gave the closest parking spaces to people needing easier access. And their doors swung wide with an automated welcome.

These infrastructural changes produced attitudinal changes, too.

It is now commonplace to find average people being “disability-conscious.” This is wonderful proof of how social change occurs. Activist compassion creates social justice which elevates social consciousness that instills common compassion.

However, something less helpful also took place — or at least was reinforced. Namely, a habit of thinking developed that equates compassion with helping people get through life a little easier.

Does this idea of compassion shape how the church understands its mission in the world? If so, do we think it is a sufficient expression of compassion and justice to simply help people get along a little better in their brokenness?

You see, within the context of the kingdom we have the ability to some degree to eliminate disabilities, not just accommodate them. But do our compassion ministries offer anything more than revamping sidewalks — metaphorically speaking? To the addicted, shouldn’t we offer more than support groups and methods of resistance? To those in turmoil, can’t we offer more than sheltering care? To the sick, isn’t there more we can give than coping skills?

None of these acts of compassion is wrong. But is it sufficient?

A year ago this month, Edith Isabel Rodriguez died on the floor of an emergency room in a Los Angeles hospital after writhing in pain and bleeding from the mouth for 45 minutes. The LA Times reported that she was within sight of hospital employees who failed to act. Pleading calls from bystanders to unresponsive 911 operators yielded no help. Her treatable condition turned fatal.

True, that’s an extreme example of gross neglect. But it raises the general question: If you fail to offer hurting people all possible help, are you guilty of neglect? As a general rule the answer is yes.

We disciples of Jesus Christ — the One who ushered in a kingdom of healing and deliverance — must be gripped by a passion to do the works that He did and “even greater things than these” (John 14:12). The church must not let our ADA culture set limits on how we define compassion. Will we seek to do all that’s possible?

Holy Desperation Defined
There is a trait of a true disciple that we might call holy desperation. It is a state of mind and heart that simply cannot tolerate or settle for anything less than what God makes possible.

Let’s put it this way: Holy desperation is a continual motivating sense of urgency to be and do all that God makes possible.

Think of how focused you get if your income taxes are not done when the April 15 tax deadline is a few days away. That’s a sense of urgency. Now imagine that the midnight deadline is just a few hours away. That’s a motivating sense of urgency. I’ve got to do something! Now imagine that same feeling every day. That’s a continual motivating sense of urgency.

Now imagine that urgency focused not on taxes, but on being and doing all that God makes possible. That’s holy desperation.

Unfortunately, this is a very hard trait to develop in a culture as comfortable as ours. It is too easy to be content with so little of God’s kingdom when we have so much comfort and blessing in our little kingdoms. That’s why the trait of desperation must be sought, practiced and infused into the body of Christ.

So how can we nurture this holy desperation?

Settle the question of what God makes possible.
Many Christians never really face this bottom-line issue of what God makes possible. The first disciples of Jesus could not escape it. They watched what He did firsthand. When He commanded them to go and do likewise, the implications were inescapable. When they failed the do what He made possible, He chastised them for their lack of faith.

“All that God makes possible” unquestionably included healing, deliverance, supernatural witness and incredible love, forgiveness and peace. The standard was set. And they were desperate to be and do what God made possible.

Two thousand years later, we are too removed from the original discipleship experience to see it so clearly. Nevertheless, Jesus commissioned those first disciples to make new disciples who would obey the same commands He first sent them to fulfill — heal the sick, cast out demons, and raise the dead. (Check it out for yourself. Compare the Great Commission, particularly Matthew 28:20, with the First Commission, particularly Matthew 10:5-8.)

Unfortunately, for numerous reasons the evangelical church in America has questioned the legitimacy of expecting signs and wonders today. As a result, the average Christian tends not to see them within the realm of “what God makes possible.”

Honestly reread the gospels. Then settle this question in your own mind. If you land on the side of believing God still calls His people to wield His power in ministries of healing and deliverance today, then you’ve prepared your heart to be gripped by holy desperation.

In the early ’80s another “disabilities” movement was growing in America. John Wimber, a relatively new Christian believer and pastor, began searching the scriptures without bias or prejudice. He concluded that the miraculous works of God were not just evidence of the kingdom but its essence, and he wanted to be part of a church that could “do the stuff.” His unflagging desperation for the fullness of God’s kingdom resulted in the worldwide movement known as the Vineyard Christian Fellowship of churches and thousands of verified healings.

That’s what holy desperation can do. A door opens. A sidewalk lowers. A way is made for you to walk into God’s presence and receive kingdom power that doesn’t just aid, but changes those who have been disabled by sin and Satan.