I have the privilege of having a heritage that has allowed me to draw from a well of honorable spiritual examples. I have the pleasure of recounting a wealth of wisdom and common sense passed down through tradition and practice from well respected men and women of faith. I was planted in good soil, fed by faithful streams and abundant sunshine and watched over carefully by a diligent Shepherd. This history is like a web of roots deeply embedded into well fertilized ground that has fed my soul throughout my life.
This security is a blessing I do not discount, however it does come with it’s share of issues. My history is like a warm quilt on a cold day, and asking me to change is like asking me to drop that quilt and suffer the shock of being exposed. I like the security and the warmth it provides, I’m perfectly happy here, why would I want to change? Yet consistently over the years God has moved me. He calls me up from my slumber, out of the warmth, into new paths, new ideas, new vision and exposes me to the risk and intolerance of broken tradition.
Pastor Davis has talked about change a lot lately. We are changing the way we worship, the way we do ministry, the way we present our message and even the way we save seats in the sanctuary. Of course the gospel is unchanging but our expression of truth sometimes has to be adjusted as our listening audience hears in a different language than we have spoken in past years. For some this is so difficult. I understand that. I know what it means to feel that you are abandoning the sweet words and wisdom that first comforted your weary heart. I know what it is to worship for the first time without the security of the voices and melodies of support that have always held you up. I also know what it is to grow into that new song and find that God has not changed.
As I listened to Pastor Davis’ plea for change recently I questioned my own response. I wasn’t shocked or dismayed by any of it. I was in fact, excited about it. Not because I like the new ways better, but because I want to see the Gospel work for sinners. My lack of shock is because I’ve done this before.
I was raised singing hymns out of books on wooden pews with only a pianist and a chorister to lead us. I was raised in a small church in the middle of nowhere with a Pastor who was also employed doing masonry work on the side because the church couldn’t pay him enough. Things were simple and pure and truth was uncluttered. I have fond memories of those times. I can remember realizing the truth in the songs I sang. I remember how it settled in my heart and found it’s way to the firmest places of my soul and took root. I love those hymns. I love the deep and poetic way they communicate God’s grace, love and compassion for mankind. I love their melodies and the sound of four part harmony ringing inside the walls of a country church. Those things are not just a love of tradition for me. They are a love for the way God ministered to me, the way He introduced Himself and secured my heart forever. He is my Anchor, my Champion, my Hero and my Salvation. He used those same hymns to bring me security when I left home and found myself lonely and small. His Word and the detailed memory of those songs was a stability that carried me through those months and years.
My heart hurts when I hear people say, and I have heard this, “I hate hymns!” To them they are archaic disciplines. Unnecessary print that turns off the young and hides truth. I have learned not to be angry with those people, I have learned to understand their perspective and to realize that my experience was in some ways unique in that I was taught to actually “worship” as I sang from a book while others were simply taught to sing.
Yet, I have for years gone to a church that rarely leads our people in hymns. I questioned this and how I can still say I have roots in such a different soil but I’m firmly and happily planted in new ground.
I think the answer is the root ball.
Kris bought me two trees for Mother’s Day. We took them home and planted them immediately. I don’t know where they were planted as seeds and I don’t know how they were fertilized or cared for, but I know that all they were given is still with them. We did not peel back the burlap sack around the roots of the tree, we simply cut off any plastic and put them into a new hole. The process will inevitably weaken the plant for a short time, but it will eventually continue it’s growth. The roots are still wrapped securely in the original soil and will push through that burlap to grip the new earth around it.
Traditions and family heritage are not my salvation or my future, but I still carry the good soil they supplied for me. My roots are now extended beyond that history and as I have grown I have found new life and greater security in the new ground that God chose to plant me in. I do not have to worry, I am like that tree in Psalm 1, planted by the rivers of water who bears it’s fruit in season and whose leaf does not whither.
There is argument as to God’s desire to transfer everyone’s life to that river with their root ball attached. What if my heritage was one of abuse, neglect and evil? What if I had little to look back on with affection? I believe God is in the business of redemption. He knows exactly what is in that root ball and He will work all things for our good (Romans 8:28). Leaving our history in tact is not leaving our sin, it is removing us from sin and planting us in new ground. That history is there but it doesn’t have to dictate our growth or our fruitfulness. As long as we seek the water of His Word, stretching those roots into that new ground, believing that we are exceedingly valuable to Him or He would not have troubled Himself with asking us to change. He has great things He desires for us and through us. Things that require us to stretch, to seek His face and rest in His security.
It is not just change in our church’s methods that cause us to move to new ground. There are many areas of life where change is necessary. Career and family changes, changes in direction, changes in ministry, whatever it is that God moves us to He has the water available to keep life and joy flowing in us. He will prepare us, nurture us and ensure that we are truly ready for all that He has in mind for us.
Kris’ lesson this past week was about the fear of failure. That is another area that keeps us from moving forward. We grip our secure ground with fingers of steel and refuse to be pliable to God’s will, because we cannot imagine the ground He’s called us to being a welcome place. It’s not the kind of soil we’re used to, it’s not in an area we are familiar and it’s not among others who are like us, whatever it is, we are afraid to go.
As God leads you into new things, remember that being uprooted is not a call to leave your appreciation or your history behind. It is not a sentence to struggle and fail the rest of your life. It simply means that your fruit is needed in new places. It is an opportunity to take all the good, the bad and the ugly of your past soil and allow the good soil of the Word of God to enrich it and make you even more fruitful for the Kingdom of God.
Rivers change, the recent flooding has changed the geography of Tennessee in certain areas. Sometimes the path of the river moves to ground that was unable to receive it before. To remain well fed and fruitful, we must allow God to plant us in that new ground as well. Those who refuse to change may find comfort in the security of their tradition and familiarity but will soon lose the ability to grow for lack of living water.
Higher Ground – Johnson Oatman, Jr., 1898
I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining every day;
Still praying as I onward bound,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
refrain:
Lord, lift me up, and let me stand
By faith on Heaven’s tableland;
A higher plane than I have found,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.
My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where these abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
I want to live above the world,
Though Satan’s darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.
I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I’ll pray till rest I’ve found,
“Lord, lead me on to higher ground.”
He will not disappoint. Do not settle for what is comfortable. Find the usable parts of where you are, the joyful things, the Godly things and allow them to encourage you to move forward.
“For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6 NASB