Embarrassing moments and massive failures...
Embarrassing moments and massive failures are not the usual topics of conversation unless they are not your own. In fact, I can’t recall this failure being the topic of any conversation I have had since its occurrence in 1994.
I’m not sure if one would call it a Jericho march, because the army consisted only of a solitary figure circling the local YMCA with no intention of praying it into a state of rubble. It was dark, with enough moonlight to identify large objects by, as I stumbled through the weeds imploring God for a miracle. During this “march,” I couldn’t help but wonder what went wrong with this “God-ordained” idea I had.
Flyers had been made and distributed. (I’m pretty sure they were hand drawn flyers that we photocopied. This was before the invention of “graphic design” maybe.) A massive cake had been baked and decorated. A large venue had been rented, complete with swimming pool. A massive order of pizzas had been ordered. A speaker had been secured to share the gospel message with everyone. I’m not sure what else went into the preparation. I just remember my state of exhaustion and bewilderment as I circled the building.
We planned for a hundred or so people, I believe. The total attendance at the end of the night was 0. You heard that right, 0. None. Nada. Zilch. Unless you count the car full of curious onlookers that drove by at one point wondering where the big party was. We had to shamefacedly explain that the masses hadn’t arrived yet. They of course drove on.
You see, I had had this brilliant idea a week or so before my graduation from high school. I would throw a graduation party to rival all others, and I would have the gospel shared, and my classmates would cry, and they would give their lives to Jesus in masses.
Humbling or humiliating was the result of that night. Maybe a combination of both. I’ve never told the story to anyone so maybe it wasn’t one of my finest moments.
Many, including myself, would say that I “missed” God. In a "success-based" walk with God, that would be an accurate assessment. That was my assessment for quite a while. Because the distance from the humiliating event is now 26 years, my assessment is probably a bit wiser and more accurate. Math is one of my deep loves in life, but Kingdom math is impossible to wrap ones brain around.
Failure = Success
Suffering = Glory
How many lessons did I learn on my trek around that building drowning in failure, and conversely, acutely aware of the presence of God? His presence was tangible that night, like when the air itself is thick like a blanket that could wrap you up and ensure your safety from all harm.
Innumerable are the lessons that I, not only learned, but maybe inhaled into the core of my being. I probably don’t need to list them, because all of you marketing, big-event planning people can see the error in my ways already. (Note: Maybe I have suffered from some residual fear before every event that no one will show up to my party.)
The most profound lesson I learned that night was that failures and suffering are good for my soul. I’m not saying I learned that particular lesson immediately. I’m a little bit more thick-headed than that, but the lesson, itself, weaseled its way in there over time.
Am I the only one that prays this prayer and stops abruptly, tires smoking and screeching, after resurrection without fail?
"That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death."
I glory in the thought of being like him in the power of his resurrection, but the “fellowship of his sufferings,” is not a party I want to attend. Ya’ll, I have even done this when praying:
"That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship…oops, too far…let me go ahead and pray for…”
I’m even cool with the death part. I’m not sure I even want to RSVP to the “fellowship of his sufferings” shindig.
So here’s where I’m at on this faith journey, I don’t run headlong into suffering and failure, but I know I need it for the health of my soul, so I’m trying my best to start praying that prayer in its entirety. (Yes, I do pause for an abnormal amount of time before that part about “the fellowship of his sufferings,” but don’t judge me, a person has to breathe.) Help me, Jesus.