It’s about
ten thirty in the evening. My wife and I stumble into our darkened house
setting down our bags with a thud. My daughter, who at this point is far beyond
tired, acts as if she has no skeletal structure and collapses into the floor in
a heap as we attempt to get off her hat and coat. We are just returning home
from a youth group Christmas party. It was a slow-burn affair culminating in a
(most unexpected) chaotic game of Red Light, Green Light. It was good seeing
the students who turned out for the event but it got me thinking: how much
time, energy, and resources I spend putting together game nights, retreats, and
overnighters. We have established patterns and systems that keep our ministry
going throughout the year. Now don’t get me wrong, these systems are useful and
serve the purpose of gathering us together (a Biblical command) but as I
contemplate where the greatest percentage of my time goes I, wonder if my resources
are being best allocated. If I’m honest, the bulk of my time goes into
maintaining systems.
Systems
serve the purpose of establishing rituals, streamlining procedures, and
maintaining order. In the Christian life we each have our own systems: quiet
times keep us reading the Bible, prayer gatherings keep us praying, tithing
establishes the discipline of giving, gathering keep us meeting together. All
of these things serve organizational and devotional needs, but is Jesus in
them? It is a heart question that we all must ask ourselves.
If I’m
honest, I’ve grown tired of maintaining systems for the sake of it. As much as
I love ritual and routine, I’m afraid that they are keeping me from the Lord rather than leading me to Him. I’ve grown tired of events where
we don’t talk about Jesus. As I grow older I’m less tolerant of talking around
the edges of faith; of churchy banter. I’m tired of church gatherings that are
more focused on small talk than seeing Christ move, on being transformed by the
Word, and on praising the glory of the Lord. Mostly, I’m tired of the fickle
shallowness of my own heart that elevates ritual over experience and routine
over relationship.
As one
involved in the planning of a ministry I can tell you (confess, really) how
easy it is to create events for the sake of creating events; to gather for the
sake of ourselves. The reason, at least for me, that this is so tempting is
that it scares me to plan events (and our lives) about Jesus. It’s scary to gather
solely for the purpose of knowing Scripture. It is scary to get together and
ask questions deeper than what’s trending or about the results of some football
game. It’s scary to ask in prayer what the Lord asks of us and be ready to do it. It is scary.
I am scared, but I’m also dissatisfied. I’m dissatisfied of seeing how poorly
my life lines up with the life of Jesus as demonstrated in the gospels.
This isn’t
an indictment of systems or practices unless
they get in the way of us responding to Christ; unless they insulate us from the
life that the Lord truly wants us to live, a life of radical dependence. A
gated community is great until it isolates us from the things Jesus wants us to
be concerned with.
So what does
this all mean? I’m afraid it means a break from the safety of our rituals and
long-established patterns. There is no easy remedy for distrust other than
trust. Often the desire to live a life for Christ demands a drastic reordering
of priorities and a reimagining of what “normal” life looks like. A
Christ-oriented life requires a state of expectancy for God’s movement. We
cannot pray without expecting the Lord to answer. We cannot read without
anticipating change. We cannot serve and still cling to any notion of pride. If
we are for Christ, we can be for nothing else, most importantly, ourselves.
Lord, break
us of our complacency.
Give us
faith in the face of fear.
Give us the courage
to abandon the good for the sake of the great.
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