Monday, January 26, 2009

Retreat to Move Forward


I watched an episode of 30 Rock recently that used the above title as a joke. Jack was going to a corporate function, a retreat, which was all about moving forward into the future. Enjoying a good pun, I laughed as, I suppose, many others who caught the one-liner laughed. I stopped laughing on Sunday when I taught the story of the Good Samaritan to the Bible Class I’ve been working with. In case you forgot, the story goes like this:

A man is walking down the road when some thugs see him, beat him up, and take his stuff. Left for dead, the man can do nothing more than cry out and wait for someone to save him. Before long, a priest, a holy man of God, comes by and sees him. Unfortunately, the priest minds his own business and keeps walking. A Levite, another Jewish holy person, passes by as well, but he likewise does nothing to help. It is only the sinner, the Samaritan, who stops and helps the person in need.

It dawned on me as I taught this that at least part of the reason that the Priest and the Levite refused to help the person in need is that they were on their way to perform their religious duties. The irony is stunning: These men could not be bothered to perform ministry because they were too busy with the “work” of God. Before we are too hard on these folks, I’ve got to tell you that I see a lot of myself in them nowadays.

I have filled my life with service to God. I’m teaching two classes at Church. I’m a Deacon in charge of worship; I’m a leader of my Small Group. In the midst of all of this, I see everything that I am letting slip through the cracks. I haven’t earnestly greeted a visitor in ages because I am too busy running around with a clipboard looking for someone to help out on the communion table. I haven’t volunteered to help someone in need or offered to pray for someone or read the Bible with someone who needed to hear the “Good News” in a very long time. I have no real reason for this, but I am wondering if it is because I am so obsessed with my religious duties that I don’t have time for ministry. Honestly, all of this busyness has replaced my passion. I’ve forgotten what it is like to want to worship instead of having to worship. It is hard to describe, and harder to admit, but my faith has grown stale.

And so we return to the paradoxical idea of retreating in order to move forward. I’m not making any announcements or decisions. I have much more thinking and praying to do. There are those whose guidance I must seek, but don’t be surprised when you see me divesting myself of some of my responsibilities soon. It isn’t backsliding and it isn’t pulling away. What it is is a strategic retreat, giving me the opportunity to find the service opportunities that surround me instead of being blinded by the duties I must perform. It is moving forward to a life defined by unrequired, and therefore uninhibited, faith. The thought of this kind of a life brings me a lot of joy, something I haven’t really felt in a while. I look forward to what awaits.