Robert Lupton, in his reflection called “LOSING WITH GOD” in the book “Theirs is the Kingdom”, tells the story of an unsuccessful attempt at launching a new manufacturing business in the city. He ends it with this:
There comes a time when cutting one’s losses and getting out is the better part of wisdom. Time has now sufficiently distanced me from the guilt and embarrassment of this fiasco to permit a bit of calm reflection. What went wrong? Why did we so miserably fail when our motives, our mission, our plans were all of high quality? Did we not listen carefully enough to God’s Spirit?
Behind my questioning is the subtle heresy that will prosper any endeavor that is done according to his will. The corollary is that whatever fails was done somehow contrary to his intentions. The error is in the assumption that perfect communion with God assures flawless performance of his will. But neither perfect communion nor flawless performance is possible for human beings.
Success, I’ve learned, has little to do with the performance of God’s will. Sometimes we fail because of our own stupidity or shortsightedness, and we must learn lessons from our mistakes. Sometimes we fail because of someone else’s failure, or because there was too much rain or too little rain. In these cases, there are no corrective lessons to be learned.
Success is not an automatic consequence of obedience. “A righteous man falls seven times and rises again” (Prov 24:16). Saint and sinner alike must take their lumps and go on to the next risk. But for the believer there is one guarantee. We have a dependable God who made a trustworthy commitment that no matter what happens–success or failure–he will use it for our ultimate good.
This heresy that Lupton speaks of pervades much of Christianity in my experience. I tend to falsely believe it myself. If a task or decision fails then it was not God’s will, and if it succeeds then it was God’s will. Many a decision in my life has been made based on “doors opening” and “doors closing”. In hindsight this is reactive and not at all truthful to the infinite variables of real life. I thought of Jesus’ rebuke of his disciples in Matthew 17 for “little faith”. This story has been used as a proof text to say that more faith brings more success, or in the case of Lupton’s story more faith would have saved the factory. I see Jesus’ words here as saying that faith (allegiance, trust, wanting to be seen to be with Jesus) is a journey, and like the mustard seed will grow into something beautiful and good. Along the way failures may happen, and God will use them for good.
His story also made me think of the lie of our worth being tied with our productivity. Work, produce, labor, save, accumulate, prosper, flourish. If not, one becomes a drain on society. This is not the way of Jesus. Certainly it is good to work and labor as part of the human experience, but it is not the source of our value. In fact, continuous work and pursuing without sabbath will eventually force that sabbath upon us. In the opening pages of Genesis God is depicted as having rested from laboring for his good creation. Resting is delighting in our value as image bearers of God. Let us rest in that perpetual 8th day that Jesus inaugurated in his resurrection.