I’m going to take a break from my series on church leadership and sound doctrine for a week because sometimes it’s important to catch our breath for a second. By nature I am not a “stop and smell the roses” kind of guy. Tourist traps have no sway over me on road trips - I just want to get to the destination.
And so it is for matters of faith and the church. I see ways we can grow and be better, and I want to keep pushing toward and advocating for them until we get there. I understand this rubs many the wrong way, though. I’m often accused of being negative and asked questions like, “isn’t there anything good about the church?”
Of course there is! That’s something I’m learning - on this journey toward sanctification it’s very important to stop and appreciate the journey itself.
With this post I want to advocate for a middle ground, one that refuses the complacency that keeps us standing still and needing change but also one that avoids Martha syndrome (Luke 10:41), being so tied up in service that we forget to enjoy what we have in Jesus.
It all comes down to a mindset shift regarding the way we view our Christianity.
Though Christianity is many things - a journey, a daily walk, a battle, etc. - one thing I rarely hear it described as is an adventure. Like any analogy, it has its limitations. But I believe viewing it this way, as a type of arduous, life-long scavenger hunt would bring a great deal of balance and joy to our daily walks.
Every phase of life brings a new understanding of Christ to grow into, new grace to receive and enjoy.
Here’s the catch to this particular hunt, though: at every stop along the way, we must leave a part of ourselves if we are to keep moving forward.
Something of our former selves must be sacrificed if we are to continue the chase.
For many, this cost is too high. What we have is comfortable, and it doesn’t seem all so bad, so why pay the heavy price to keep pressing forward? And when someone pushes us to reconsider and tells us the benefits are worth any price asked of us, complacency can raise its ugly head.
“It doesn’t say I have to.”
“If it’s not a sin, why can’t I?”
"You can’t bind that.”
In essence, "Why are you telling me I haven’t arrived yet? Stop being negative.”
As C.S. Lewis put it, we can be “like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” At a certain point, all you can do is shrug your shoulders and feel a certain pity for them that they’ll never see the joys in this life that come from letting go of self to keep climbing toward Christlikeness.
On the other hand are those like me who don’t struggle with complacency but rather a discontentment. We can’t ever be happy with where we are because there’s always the next item on the scavenger hunt, the next stop on the adventure.
But if there is no joy in the journey itself, it becomes very easy to drift into Pharisaism. The point of the journey gets mistaken for completing steps rather than enjoying walking with Christ through each and every step along the way. To use another example, it’s like getting through a reading list for a year. If I read 50 books in a year but don’t enjoy any of them and can’t remember 99% of what I read, what did I really gain? Christ is not to be enjoyed only at the end of life’s tasks, but all throughout them.
Paul gives us the perfect balance in Philippians 3:1-14. Knowing Christ was so valuable to him that he threw out anything that stood in his way. Throughout the course of his life he continued to “press toward the goal.” But again, the goal was not a heavenly finish line. Rather, it was knowing Christ and being conformed to His death. The painful, challenging journey is a reward in itself.
To the complacent, those who bristle at calls for greater holiness beyond the basics, consider if you’re viewing Christianity as this grand adventure. An adventure that isn’t challenging quickly becomes boring. Accept the call to press on.
To the discontented, keep in mind that an adventure that isn’t fun quickly becomes a chore. Every now and then, remember to take a breath, look up, see the beauty of your Savior and every blessing we have in Him (Ephesians 1), and remind yourself “This is the best life possible, and it only gets better from here.”
Enjoy the adventure, and keep pressing on.