The Slowness of God
Does it seem to you that God’s pace for your life has slowed down to a crawl? The important thing is to walk with him, whether that pace seems slow or suddenly speeds up, as it often does. In Galatians 5:25, the Apostle Paul had the best advice of all: “Keep in step with the Spirit.”
Methuselah, a California Bristlecone Pine tree, is coming up on its estimated 4,789th birthday. Squat, twisted, weathered, and storm-battered, it stretches its jagged fingers toward the blue skies over the White Mountains in eastern California. It is alive and growing, although very, very s-l-o-w-l-y. It was already ancient when Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and it may very well last until he returns.
Looking at a picture of this amazing tree made me think of a passage I once read in a book by Frederick Faber, an English hymn writer and theologian who lived a couple of centuries ago. “In spiritual life,” wrote Faber, “[God] vouchsafes to try our patience first of all by his slowness…He is slow: we are swift and precipitate. It is because we are but for a time, and he has been from eternity. Thus grace for the most part acts slowly…He works by little and by little, and sweetly and strongly he compasses his ends, but with a slowness which tries our faith, because it is so great a mystery…We must wait for God, long, meekly, in the wind and wet, in the thunder and the lightning, in the cold and the dark. Wait, and he will come.”
Yes, from our perspective God’s grace sometimes moves slowly. Paul remained in a Caesarean jail for two long years before he finally arrived in Rome. God’s people waited in Egypt four hundred years before they were ready for the next challenge. The Israelites sometimes camped in one spot in the wilderness for a year at a time, waiting for the cloud of God’s presence to signal a resumption of their march to the Promised Land.
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Held by Tender Hands
Bring your bruises to Jesus. He will not break you off and caste you aside. That little bit of flame that remains, the small glow that just burns in desperate defiance of the approaching night, he will not snuff it out. The breath he breaths on you is to fan that smouldering wick into flame again. The hands that hold you now are not to caste you aside, but to draw you near.
I am a reed, but not like others.
I suppose I should be. I grow by the quiet waters of a sheltered pond. In the late Summer evenings I watch the same dance of the Dragonfly as she gently kisses the smooth surface and momentarily shatters the mirrored sky. I grow beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient tree that drinks the same water I do. I grow among my brethren, other reeds who bow their heads each evening, only to lift them again to greet the rising sun, nodding with the warm breeze that carries the smell of earth and harvest. I don’t grow alone.
I am a reed, but not like the others.
Oh, it may appear I am the clone of those who gather round me; tall and straight I stretch toward the sky. The creatures of the wetland make their home around my feet, the birds of the air come to harvest from my crown, and like my brethren, one day the workers from the village will come and harvest us to weave into their art. We reeds have a noble calling. But I am not like the others.
I am wounded. The fibres of my being have faltered. Where others stand strong and secure, I feel the soft place within, the weakness that threatens to topple me. While others sway with the gentle evening breeze, I fear that their breeze will be my storm. Rather than sway, I bend, and I know that one day the bend will become a break.
I am bruised.
When the other reeds of the river are woven into tapestries of beauty, I will not be wound around my brothers, I will still be standing here, alone. Or worse, I will be hewn in half and thrown down; a bruised reed broken and left behind. I’m sure it is only a matter of time. Like the fire that burns the chaff away, when it has done its intended work the labourers of the field stamp out the smouldering remains. Or like the nightwatchman who blows out the candle before the smouldering wick stings his eyes with unwanted smoke, so my tall crown will be cast down to the mud in which I stand.
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Lamenting the Church Plant Fad
Take it from a church-planting veteran who has wept more and laughed with joy more through this journey than in almost any calling (parenting seven kids occupies the top spot). Church planting is not some ministry hack to rid yourself of the baggage that established churches often carry. Nor should you hope to use it as the critical ingredient to revive your church. Nor should your church planting organization build in funding measurements based upon how many and quickly your church or church plant reproduces another church plant. These postures toward church planting do not reflect that we submit to the sovereignty of God’s redemptive plan.
Every church that claims to make Jesus followers and be faithful to the truth of God’s Word must weave church planting into its fabric. Church planting is the church’s collective mandate of her mission given to her by Jesus. To be committed to the non-negotiable Great Commission means every church must be serious about participating in reproducing disciples who are reproducing disciples of Jesus. Indeed, this doesn’t mean ONLY planting churches, but it does mean ALSO starting new churches in every place that might need a church.
I cannot tell you how thankful I am for the quality of church planting movements I have been a part of and a cheerleader for in the last decade across our country. I have seen a genuine uptick in church planting taking its rightful place as a critical value for many denomination and mission organizations. It is right and a beautiful answer to prayers for our nation.
It also is in jeopardy of becoming a fad.
Fads Are Fickle
When I think of fads, I think of:The latest social craze that screams, “I am in the innovative now!” (Shout out to the latest social app that I MUST download).
The end-user product that promises quick and easy results. (Shout out to my latest don’t eat this-eat this, diet plan).
A must-have gadget that has become a talking point for success. (Shout out to the latest Apple product).
A flash-in-the-pan packaged life hack that has an over-inflated cost to own. (Shout out to the latest fix-all pyramid scheme).Fads Do Not Make a Good Mission
When planting churches becomes more of a fad than a mission, we begin to value the following:Innovation over Biblical Foundations. We are willing to set aside foundational biblical principles on what defines an actual church. Instead, we call our innovations church. Examples? When we equal evangelism efforts such as online, para-church, or Bible studies to being churches planted. If we do this, we are missing several key components of what makes a biblical church and what produces healthy followers of Christ (i.e. regular physical gathering together for sacraments, the ministry of presence within community and neighbourhoods, the function of biblical eldership, deacons and membership, the healthy function of church discipline, etc. etc.).
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Enemies on the Narrow Road
To believe that a life of self-punishment and shame is needed for us to be right with God is to believe that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross was insufficient. That is a lie of the enemy. There is complete freedom in Jesus. The reason they are unable to hurt us now is because He has disarmed them and put them to open shame (Colossians 2:15). Our sin is what gave them their power, but He has canceled our debt (Colossians 2:14). Even death has lost its sting in His resurrection.
They were gaining on me. Every breath I took was weighed down by the awareness that they were close behind. I had entered at the narrow gate, but somehow, they had managed to follow me onto the path. I could hear their taunts. Every one of their footsteps was like the sound of a war drum. There are days when they are out of sight. During those times, I feel the warm breeze of the Celestial City beckoning me homeward, but even then, I know they are lying in wait.
I did not think they could follow me onto the narrow path, but here they are. When I entered the narrow way, under the shadow of the cross, my sins were forgiven. He had delivered me from the slavery of sin that held me captive. Since He had opened the way and called me in, I thought I would be out of the reach of my enemies, yet they pursue me daily.
Every time I fall, the enemy shouts from behind, “You do not belong on this path! You belong to us, and we will catch and destroy you! I have learned the names of some, but I am still trying to figure out others. There are two who give chase called Shame and Regret. They often disguise themselves as messengers of the King. They tell me that, since my heart is prone to wander, the King prefers that I stay out of sight. That is Shame’s strategy. He convinces us that we need to hide. He does this to keep us from finding the assistance available in the congregation of the saints, and he works closely with regret to keep us from approaching the Throne of Grace.
Many other enemies desire to sink their teeth into me as well, like sickness and sorrow, sin and sadness, and the final enemy death who boasts of his many conquests. In those moments when I am running scared, I have learned that there is a song being sung.
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