Readings for today: Luke 14-15
I used to be that guy. The one who would elbow his way to the highest place of honor no matter what the occasion. At work, I would weigh in on every matter whether I knew what I was talking about or not. At school, I would try to answer every question. On the athletic field, I did my best to stand out. My god was achievement. My goal was success. My greatest fear was failure. All because I wanted to be known. I wanted to be praised. I wanted to be the center of attention. This was true in my work as a pastor as well. When I went to seminary, I felt like I had something to prove so I did my best to outwork and outshine my classmates. After I graduated and started serving the church, I would look for opportunities to demonstrate I was more effective than my colleagues. I was constantly in competition with those around me. Constantly on the lookout for potential threats. It was exhausting. Then the Lord called me to plant a church in Wisconsin. It was the most painful, heartbreaking experience of my life. He crucified my ego. He broke me of my pride. He stripped my life down to the studs. I had nothing left. I was at the end of myself. I was a complete and utter failure.
Perhaps that’s why I resonate so much with the parable Jesus tells in Luke 14. I spent most of my life trying to claim the seat of highest honor only to have the Lord send me back to some of the lowest places over and over again. I was put in my place frequently by those with much more experience at work. My teachers stopped calling on me at school. My athletic career eventually ended as those better than me took my place. Even among my pastoral colleagues, I often made a fool of myself. Then, when things were falling apart in Wisconsin, I remember reading this story and thinking to myself, “Wow, God has sent me to the lowest possible place. Where do I go from here?” The answer comes at the end of the parable. Seek the lowest place. Don’t try to raise yourself up. Stop competing with those around you. Stop jockeying for position. Stop trying to prove yourself. Instead, embrace obscurity and anonymity and insignificance and let the Master raise you up.
Honestly, I’ve not looked back. My life from the fall of 2009 onward has been one grace after another. As soon as I relinquished my need to be successful, my need for achievement, and my need for attention, I became far more open to God. Instead of exhausting myself trying to show everyone how smart and capable I am, I was able to let go. God spoke to me very clearly, commanding me to labor in obscurity, embrace anonymity, and pursue insignificance. These three words have guided my life ever since. Not only that, but He made it clear to me that I am not to seek another position nor ask for another raise. Instead, I am simply to trust Him to take care of me. Every opportunity I’ve had professionally over the last fifteen years has come from the Lord. I have not pursued a single one. Every financial blessing I’ve received from my church has come from the Lord. I’ve not asked for a single raise. In fact, I’ve turned several down. These are not points of pride for me but rather examples of what it means to live out the parable of Jesus. What about you? Where do you need to relinquish and let go? Where do you need to stop your striving and rest in God? Where do you need to give up control so the Lord can raise you up in His time and according to His will?
Readings for tomorrow: Matthew 19, Mark 10:1-31, Luke 16-17, 18:1-30