The Ship is Leaving the Harbor. Bon Voyage.

Over a bowl of stew today, my husband and I wandered on to the subject of our church.  To be brief, our church has been struggling for a good seven years. In more ways than one, we resemble Joseph’s dream. In the early 2000s, we had seven strong years, and now, we are experiencing famine. 

As Mike and I were discussing the situation, my phone buzzed, indicating a text message.  Some friends of ours were visiting their son today.  He is currently interning at the church where our former youth pastor is now senior pastor.  As the pastor’s name came to mind, I asked my husband, “What is it about Dave? When he was at our church, he had a whole bunch of people who were eager to work for him and be a part of his programming? And now, at his new church, they are already growing like crazy? What makes him so different from all other pastors?”

As we chewed on our stew, we chewed on the topic as well. At our church, morale is low. Without getting into too many details, church attendance has been steadily waning, and I will admit that Mike and I have been half-heartedly shopping around at other churches as well. Not surprisingly, it has become more difficult now than ever to find members to volunteer and serve, and after a popular member of the staff recently left, several families opted to leave as well. All this led us back to the original question, “What is it about Dave?”

My husband is often a dark horse in conversation.  On more than one occasion, he has blind-sided me with the simple truths of life, and today was no exception.  He simply said, “I think that all of our pastors have just become too comfortable.”  

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, all of our pastors have been in the church business for a long time, and maybe they have just become too comfortable.”

It’s true. The pastors at our church have a combined total of around sixty years of service.  I’m not saying that’s a bad thing; experience breeds wisdom.  However, it’s also easy to fall into ruts and habits. . .and let’s face it, just get tired.  Likewise, in having been in service for that long, it’s easy for leaders to determine that their ways are the best and only ways, almost as if they have the divine pipeline to Godly information. I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but that sort of attitude is an arrogant one, which often alienates and disenfranchises people.   And yes, I am speaking from experience, but not bitterness.

So, back to the question, what is different about Dave?  Well, Dave has always been ANYTHING but comfortable. Dave is the epitome of the Godly stretch.  Back in the day, I worked with him for a while as a junior high youth leader. I remember him telling the kids (and me) about the fact he had started to play basketball at the City Auditorium.  He didn’t know anyone, and he didn’t talk about God while there unless someone specifically asked him a question.  He just played basketball.  Dave used that example to explain to the kids that if you want to have any hope of pointing someone to Christ, you have to have a relationship with the person first.  But that was just a small example of the Dave stretch.

About six or seven years ago, Dave felt a call to continue his education to become a senior pastor.  He had a thriving youth ministry, was involved in the community and local school, and was quite literally at the top of his game.  Even so, he believed God was calling him to a new and different challenge. This one, however, required him to pack up a family of six, sell a house, and relocate the entire conglomerate to inner-city Chicago so that he could attend North Park University.  He left everything that was comfortable – a cozy community, a successful position, and financial stability – for an ultimate God-stretch. Today, he has his own congregation, and as I said, things are going quite well. 

So far, the Dave story seems to illustrate the precarious challenges and perks of a faith-driven life. That gives me hope  - not only for our church, but also for my family.

To explain, on Monday, my husband found out that he will be unemployed on February 1.  He has worked for the same company for twenty-five years, and now, due to a downturn in the industry, the company has to downsize, which means my husband and a sea of his co-workers are out of a job.

Both of us (and our families and close friends) have already been praying over the change. Although there are flickers of apprehension, we are looking for a God-ordained employment fit, not just a job. We are in a united faith agreement that there is no doubt that God’s got this. 

After our conversation today, I was energized and challenged.  We, too, have become very comfortable.  We have lived in the same general area our whole lives; we have gone to the same church throughout the duration of our marriage. In spite of an occasional ripple and/or burst of well-intentioned spiritual growth, our lives are predictable, routine, and yes, comfortable.  Now, due to circumstances beyond our control, we are in for a stretch. Right now, though, that’s not as daunting as it looked yesterday. 

The key is relationship. It’s just like Dave said; there’s no hope without relationship first.  Actually, Dave didn’t say it first.  God did.

“Remain in me, and I will remain in you.  No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me” (John 15: 4). If there is to be any joy, blessing, or fulfillment in this earthly life, it can only be found when we are completely, wholly, and unequivocally one with the Father. 

“Most of us live on the borders of consciousness-consciously serving, consciously devoted to God.  All this is immature; it is not the real life yet.  The mature stage is the life of a child which is never conscious; we become so abandoned to God that the consciousness of being used never enters in. When are consciously being used as broken bread and poured-out wine, there is another state to be reached, where all consciousness of ourselves and of what God is doing through us is eliminated” (Oswald Chambers).

This doesn’t mean we will be without trouble.  Quite the opposite, a God-centered life usually means a passel of trouble because God is always pushing us beyond the bounds of comfortability. As the cliché states, God is not interested in our comfort; He is interested in our character. A life of faith is a life of fulfillment. 

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body” (2 Corinthians 4:9-10).

So what happens next? The answer is whatever God has ordained.  My job is not to micro-manage, obsess, worry, or control the situation, whether it’s church or my family.  “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me” (John 21:22). Even though the first part of the verse was referencing the disciple, John, the message here is clear.  Don’t worry about anyone or anything other than me. 

“If you do not cut the moorings, God will have to break them by a storm and send you out.  Launch all on God, go out on the great swelling tide of His purpose, and you will get your eyes open. If you believe in Jesus, you are not to spend all your time in the smooth waters just inside the harbor bar, full of delight, but always moored; you have to get out through the harbor bar into the great deeps of God and begin to know for yourself” (Oswald Chambers).

I guess the ship is leaving the harbor.  Bon voyage.