Being built up…takes time
It was one of the most memorable sketches that the Monty Python team created. Epically absurd, the sketch focussed on the ridiculous notion that government had formed a Ministry of Silly Walks. Gangly city gent John Cleese, bowler hatted and umbrella in hand, strode through the streets of London, limbs all akimbo, taking two steps forward and three steps back. Crazy.
Sometimes I feel like my walk with Jesus is just like that. Heeding the call, as millions have, to follow him, I dream about a steady hike onward and upward, a straight line trek of daily, measurable progress. I dream that there will come a time when I come to the end of a day, and am able to measure my growth in character and kingdom influence. My spiritual development is precise, able to be plotted on a graph. At best, I make significant gains; at worst, I might just crawl along faithfully, moving at a tediously snail pace, but still heading in the right direction nevertheless.
Dream on.
My walk with Jesus is more John Cleese than John the Apostle. I envy those speakers and leaders whose lives are a disciplined march; where each of their steps is punctuated by clear directions from heaven, and their days are unremittingly fruitful and exciting. But I’m afraid it’s not like that for me. My Christian walk is often a Christian stagger. And, sadly, like the children of Israel of old, who despite the helpful props of a pillar of fire leading them by night, and a pillar of cloud by day, I wander. In fact, it’s not just that I wander: the old hymn writer got it right: I am prone to wander.
Knowing myself as I do, I understand why God chose sheep as a metaphor for the human condition. I wish that God could have described us all as dolphins who have swum astray, because dolphins not only smile a lot, but have considerably developed brain cells, which is why they’re good at performing tricks. In short, they can be trained. But sheep aren’t so bright. We might go to Sea World, (perhaps not these days) but we’re not so likely to go to Sheep World, are we? When I have used this illustration when preaching, some listeners have advised me that there is such a thing as ‘Sheep World’, and they’re right. However, this doesn’t prove that sheep are terribly bright, as instead of walking backwards on the surface of water, leaping through high hoops above the pool, and making clicking noises on cue (as dolphins do) the highlight of Sheep World is that the sheep are placed on a track, a dog chases them, and one of them passes the winning line first: hardly evidence of brilliance. Sorry, fellow human beings, we’re sheep.
And so there are days - and sometimes months - where it feels like I am frantically going nowhere fast. I believe that God is the builder and is at work in me, but it seems like there is little evidence of progress. To switch the metaphor from walking to swimming, I’m treading water, learning little, just desperately trying to keep my head above the surface. My primary objective is to avoid drowning. My striding along with Jesus is occasionally punctuated by stop offs at smothering doubt, prayerless speechlessness, and furtive little sprints into indiscipline. Sometimes I find myself in the wilderness of despair.
And just when I think that hope is thin, I read the bible, which is a good idea. There I bump into world changers like Peter who understood heavenly truths, and then came up with hellish suggestions - in the same conversation Jesus congratulated Peter for his depth of understanding, and then rebuked him for being a temporary agent of Satan. In Mark’s gospel particularly, we find a ‘warts and all’ portrait of headstrong, competitive, deluded, pompous, doubting, irritated, and occasionally depressed souls - fellow wanders, who were apostolic world changers. Building takes time.
Meanwhile, time to move on. Which path now, I wonder?