Why Do You Yet Crawl...?

For over two months now, there have been at least four sparrows living inside of the Wal-Mart here in Hannibal. I know this because I see them there…all the time…all over the store. I’m not sure how this is not some sort of health code violation, but what are you gonna do? I sincerely doubt that those birds are going to find their way out; I don’t know why they would want to leave anyway. And, short of some kind of net-launching cannon or releasing a falcon in the store, I see no way to catch those things.

Let’s face it: if you were a bird, that would be the place to be. There’s all the food you could want, it’s super warm and cozy, there are no threats from predators, and the ceilings are high enough to fly above the crowds and even build a nice little nest for yourself and the little lady.

There’s only one kicker. Those birds: I wouldn’t call them free. Sure they have anything they need; they may even have all the liberty they could ask for, they can fly around to their heart’s content. But there is still a ceiling between them and the sky. They are still in a cage; it’s just bigger than they would expect.

Sometimes I feel like those birds: trapped at Wal-Mart. There are so many things I would like to do, and so many things I feel I am meant to do; but my job traps my time. After all, I have to provide for needs. I need money to get food and to pay rent and bills. But it all seems like flying in a circle—a big circle, maybe, but still a circle.

Actually though, it’s just easy for me to blame Wal-Mart for my problems because I don’t like being there anyway. There is still so much of my time that I could use for the important things, but I waste it. The cage I’m in is built mainly of my own laziness and procrastination. If there is anything holding me back from the sky, it is me. God has blessed me so greatly, and I have opportunities most people will never know (as do we all) but I am still content to live in a smaller world with a ceiling above me.

I don’t know what all of this will prove to be about, but this is what my life is like right now. There is a sentence in my head. I don’t know if I heard it somewhere, or if God just put it there. “Why do you yet crawl while you may fly?” Most of us are still stuck on the ground. God has so much more for us. Stop being content here in the dirt.

And that goes for me.

The Church of Tomorrow

Admit it. Some of you, when you read that title thought back to the old “home of tomorrow” or “car of the future” campaign ads. You were thinking, “What? A blog about churches with recliners instead of pews? With all stainless steel décor, robots to greet you when you enter, automatic collection plates that take the money right out of your wallet!” But no, that is not at all what I intended. Although, it would be pretty awesome if that church had a convict-o-matic, where the preacher could flip a switch and any member of the congregation he chose would be “aided” down the aisle to pray, led by a combination of spring propulsion and robotic arms a la George Jetson. But I digress.

By “The Church of Tomorrow” I was referring to a phrase that seems to be a favorite of certain church members. Typically it is used by the elderly, often deacons, for whom I have the utmost respect. But it is also common among the middle-aged and young parents. And I believe they are well-intentioned, though misguided.

Here is my problem with the term: we don’t apply it to the right people.

That phrase, as it is used in the typical church, usually is part of an impassioned plea or a rationale for focusing on the youth group. “These young people are the church of tomorrow!” someone will say. “The youth are the church of the future.”

As a youth pastor, I appreciate the sentiment. But there is a flaw with the statement. The youth, if they are Believers, are not the church of the future. They are the church now. The attitude that they are the future church is a part of what contributes to the generation gap in our churches.

At this point it would be possible for the ranting to begin. But there is another point I need to make, a point that is perhaps more important. And that is that there is a church of tomorrow. It consists of the lost.

So, please, stop referring to youth as the church of the future. If they are our future, it looks bleak. I’m not bashing the youth; I’m just saying, statistically 80% will leave church when they graduate high school. Also, Church, you are not having enough kids to propagate a “church of tomorrow” without reaching out to the lost. I’m not saying to forget the youth; please, please don’t. But can we put as much emphasis on reaching the lost? We should, if we are truly concerned about the future of the church; and, more importantly, if we are concerned with Chist.

The Pride of False Humility

Humble. That is one word we would all like to be used in describing us. We want to be thought of as humble people. Here’s the problem: many times in our desire to appear humble we are actually behaving pridefully.

Here’s the scenario. Someone come to you for something. It could be for advice. It could be asking for your help. It could be wanting you to fill a position or a need. In response, we humble admit that we are not smart enough, not talented enough, not gifted enough, or whatever the case may be.

The message we try to convey is this: “No, I’m not good enough. I would mess things up. I totally recognize my inability. I’m trying to be humble here.”

Essentially, what we’re saying though, is this: “I recognize your need, but I don’t want to take the chance of making myself look like a fool. Maybe I would be the best one to meet this need right now, but I don’t feel like trying it. I don’t think I’m good enough. So, I would rather maintain my dignity than do what I can to help someone.”

That is not humility. That is the most conceited action we could take. We are more concerned with our appearances than with doing the work God has prepared for us. It is our pride that tells us we will look like a fool, and so we do nothing.

Listen to what the Bible would say about that. I Corinthians 3:18 says, “Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise.”

Humility requires willingness to be humiliated. Humility means putting the needs of others above our own need to look good.

Not A Knight

If I had lived in the Dark Ages, I would not have been a knight. I would have dreamed about it. I would have longed to be the protector of the helpless. But I think I would have been a farmer. I would have been a farmer who dreamed of being a knight, but I would have been satisfied with being a herdsman. At least then I would have had the animals to protect.

There are but few knights that we remember, however. Not many, even of that most noble breed, left a mark on history. And we may remember a few in tales or ballads, but those were composed by someone other than the knights themselves. So, perhaps the poets are the ones who have left the greatest signs of history. We know the names of Lancelot and Beowulf and Saint George, but few if any remember who told the tales. Those forgotten bards bear more weight than the heroes of their tales, for it is they who have shaped us with the stories.

If I had been alive back then, I would not have been a knight. I think I would have been a farmer. I hope I would have been a storyteller.

Don't Water the Begonias

If you are going to take care of plants it is helpful to know something about them. I don’t. That is, I don’t really know about them; I do have to take care of them. My training involving the plants consisted basically of being told to water them every day, and to water them until it runs out the holes in the bottom of the pots. I really don’t know much about plants.

Luckily, Wal-Mart has Art. Art is a 76-year-old black man who knows everything about every plant. When we have a question, we go to Art, and he answers with his usual fervor. He sure doesn’t act 76. I think he must have either discovered the fountain of youth or he has a secret lab in his basement where he sucks the vitality out of little children he has shipped in from the streets of Mexico City. But I digress. The point is, when the majority of the Begonias in our store were dying and rotting, it was Art who knew that their peril was caused by over-watering.

In life, I have found that I usually know as little about what I need as I do about how to take care of a hibiscus. Thankfully, in life, we have God. The verse has become a bit of a Christian cliché, but the truth of Jeremiah 29:11 not diminished by its overuse. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

Sometimes the things that happen to us don’t make sense. But God knows what He’s doing. Just accept what He gives, and trust.

Enslaved to Liberty

Here in the land of the free and the home of the brave there are few things we value more highly than our liberty. Liberty is one of the cornerstones of our nation. We even have an idol of her in the harbor outside New York. Well, perhaps we don’t bow down to “Lady Liberty,” but she is still somewhat of a deity to us. We like to do things on our own, in our own way. And we like to have the freedom to do so. This is especially true of men, and I don’t know of any guy out there that doesn’t wish they could be William Wallace crying out with his last breath, “FREEEEEDDOOOOOOOM!!!”

As wonderful as our liberty is, and as grateful as I am for freedom, I believe that the majority of the American church has taken our independence too far. Our commercialism and economics and politics and social theory have bled over into our faith. There is only one problem: our faith does not follow the same laws as the government or the stock market or Hollywood or the media (thank goodness). And yet, we have all but replaced God with what we can do on our own. We are free to do as we please and do what we please in a way that is pleasing to us. And our freedom has given us power.

Or so we think.

But seriously, what can we not accomplish? We have enough money to solve all our problems without prayer, without God’s help. We have a world of information to answer our questions. The philosophy of the ages and of this age is at our fingertips on the internet. We can supply our own food, shelter, whatever; who needs faith? Who needs to rely on anyone or anything? We are free.

Or are we?

Maybe we are. But if we are, our liberty has made us weak. By relying only on our own power we have forfeited any true power. By replacing God with freedom we have become indebted to self-sufficiency, enslaved to liberty, and subservient to independence.

Think about it; the most powerful being to ever walk the planet, Jesus Christ, did not even rely on His own strength. Listen to what He said in John 5:19. “Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do.”

In spite of all His power, Jesus was still completely dependant upon His Father. In fact, that dependency was the very source of His power. Wrap you mind around this: Jesus was so dependant on the Father that He could do nothing apart from the Father; hence, everything He did was in accordance with the will of the Father and as such was empowered by the very hand of God. It is incredible to think of such perfect dependence result in such absolute power, but that is the way God works.

So if you want more than just “freedom,” offer yourself as a slave to God. It is my prayer that the church will become so dependent on God that He can empower us. It is my prayer that we will forfeit enough of our liberties that He will be able to use us.

Stacking Dung

I recently got a job at Wal-Mart. Working there has stifled my desire to write for some time, though I have gotten a few ideas in the past weeks. One of them actually came from something I do as a part of my job.

I work in the lawn and garden department and one of the responsibilities I have is to load mulch and potting soil and fertilizer and such things. We have big piles of all this stuff stacked on pallets in the parking lot, and the heaps can tend to get a little disorderly. When this happens, someone has to straighten up the lot.

This task reminded me of what Paul said about this life in the third chapter of Philippians. In the beginning of that chapter Paul lists his credentials according to the flesh: all the things that he once thought would make him right with God. It is a very impressive list, full of wonderful things. But in verse eight Paul says he counts all these things as “rubbish” but the original Greek word actually translates better as “dog dung.”

Perhaps you wonder how it relates. But as I thought about the impressive pile of crap that Paul had accumulated, I couldn’t help but think about the stacks out on the lot and about how much time I spend building up my own pile.

We spend so much time gathering together our little piles of manure, stacking them neatly, and trying to make them look impressive. But in the end, it’s all still dung. No matter how nicely packaged a bag of manure may be, it doesn’t change what I’m loading into that truck when people come to Wal-Mart to try to get their garden ready. And no matter how much dung we gather, we still have nothing to offer to God.

So what we need to do is leave those steaming heaps behind us; and, like Paul, say that we are “forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead. I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Jesus Christ.”