Self-congratulations on my first blog entry that’s entitled by a quote from Star Trek’s Dr. Leonard McCoy! In my defense, this was already a working title before I connected it with my Trekkie past. And such phrases have been used as titles before (see D. A. Carson’s book For the Love of God).
But I digress.
True story (but with names/places changed): A middle-aged couple, Wes and Kim, once leaders of a church plant in Seattle, had relocated to Baltimore. Wes now worked at a factory to support Kim and their teenaged children, but they still found ways to use the spiritual and ministerial gifts God had given them by serving in a growing church plant there in the Baltimore area.
Then their marriage hit a storm. They stopped coming to church. They slept in separate rooms, sometimes even separate houses. Mike, a pastor at the church plant who had been counseling them, couldn’t believe that Wes, a former pastor himself, would say such things about his own wife. Nonetheless, the small church plant came around Wes and Kim, prayed for them and helped them to reconcile.
A few months after the ripples of the struggles had settled, Wes and Kim wanted to, respectfully, leave the church plant’s fellowship and serve somewhere else. It wasn’t disappointment in the church plant’s community, services or even philosophy. With a renewed passion for their marriage, they wanted to “start afresh” in a new church family elsewhere. After all, this little church plant family had seen Wes and Kim at their worst, weakest and most vulnerable state, having helped them through their potential separation.
It’s interesting, because Mike thought that reasoning is exactly why they should stay at the church plant.
Wes and Kim remind me of a lot of Christians today that developed a talent for cover-ups. Whether it’s a sin they’re honestly struggling with, a travesty or an impairment, they strive for self-sufficiency and the impression that they’re doing just fine. Seems somewhat selfless, doesn’t it? Nobody wants to be a burden, and there’s probably bigger problems to deal with, right?
How much of such an effort is made out of pride?
We like to be seen as self-sufficient and professional, which isn’t surprising in a country that celebrates independence. In the Church, this cultural mentality has to collide with the Christian truth that all have sinned, making the congregation a mixed group of broken, dependent, needy people. This is exactly why the Church’s fellowship exists (Acts 4): to provide for the needy (spiritually, financially, everything) through God’s blessings.
The popular hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” reflects on Phil. 4:6, and it goes into great detail about the “peace we forfeit” and the “pain we needlessly bear” because we do not pray. The popular three stanzas don’t address that the verse from Philippians encourages prayer and petition. If you have been blessed with the fellowship of a church that has offered to bear some of your burdens, please take them up on their offers. It helps you. It helps them. It gives glory to God.
I struggle with this, too, sometimes. When I’m sick, I tend to isolate myself from the family and sleep it off, get better on my own. I tell myself and my wife that I might be contagious and don’t want to be a burden, but it’s ultimately pride and manhood that I’m trying to prove. I needed help. I had to swallow a lot of pride, having a masters degree and a family of 4, to acknowledge, both to myself and to my in-laws, that I can’t financially afford to support my family right now . . . and I needed help.
Do you need help? Be honest. Has someone offered to help? Take them up on it.
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