Shifting and sinking sands

“My hope is built on nothing lessThan Jesus’ blood and righteousness;...On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand; All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.”

— Edward Mote (1797-1874)

Politics is about gathering as many people as possible around a big idea. As hard as leaders work to build a constituency, why aren't we more committed to its preservation? It seems leaders make two big mistakes.

Mistake #1: We treat the original big idea as assumed. We take it for granted. Everyone already agrees, right? But when people stop talking about the big idea that unites them, they start forming alliances around lesser things. Before long, the original big idea is forgotten and the confederation is fractured.

Mistake #2: Our original big idea wasn't so big after all. If recruiting efforts include threats; hypocrisy; or manipulation through fear, anger, cynicism, and false promises; you can bet this is at the root.

Churches make both of these mistakes. Jesus built the church around himself. He is the Rock, the Alpha and Omega, the Head, the one who says "Come, follow me." Here's the problem: some local churches were built from the start around something else—something less. But even those churches that do gather in Jesus' name tend to neglect the obvious. Jesus may be central in faith statements but not in what people actually experience. So, people fixate on lesser things. And fuss about them. Even leave over them.

A few years ago, my wife and I would take our boat over to the south end of Topsail Island. There was a large sandbar there and we headed straight for it. Then one year the sandbar—the thing that attracted us—was gone. We haven't been able to commit to another spot since.

For Christians, Jesus is the Big Idea. He is (should be) the attraction that draws Christians together. When he's taken for granted—when he's no longer the light that illuminates everything else—people will disconnect. And they may not reconnect anywhere for a long time.

Weary and scattered

“But when [Jesus] saw the multitudes, He was moved with compassion for them, because they were weary and scattered, like sheep having no shepherd.”

— Matthew 9:36 NKJV

Most of my adult life I have traveled extensively. I've had literally thousands of opportunities to observe people in airports, on shuttles, in cars, and on sidewalks. People do look so weary. So scattered.

Now I do more listening than watching. Now I hear people's stories and my ears confirm my eyes. People really are weary and scattered.

When Jesus observed this, he told his disciples to pray to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest (Matt. 9:38).

It occurs to me: what if the Lord has already raised up laborers? And what if those laborers have become just as weary and scattered as the multitudes? Where might they be gathered? Where might they be refreshed?

The sales pitch

Why is it so hard to have a spiritual conversation in our culture? Really, why is it so hard to have conversations about anything that matters? I'm convinced it's because of the sales pitch.

We dread the doorbell for fear of the sales pitch.

We ignore the phone, imagining the sales pitch.

We unfollow 'friends' on social media because of the sales pitch.

We shop and bank online to sidestep the sales pitch.

We shun furniture and men's clothing stores because of the sales pitch.

We visit car lots after hours to avoid the sales pitch.

We wonder if "let's have coffee" will result in the sales pitch.

We avoid determined activists because of the sales pitch.

We are marketed to every day, all day long. It seems every interaction demands a transaction. Hurry! Act now! Not so in many other cultures where people can enjoy each other's company and have conversations about most anything.

What if Christians were different? What if we loved people enough just to get to know them—to spend time with them? What if we asked for nothing at all and let the Holy Spirit lead and prompt in the midst of shared life?