CONFESSIONS OF A MARANATHA PASTOR: PART IV

 

Vulnerability

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons
Well we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms

                        - Rich Mullins, Growing Young

 In the Desert

I love the red desert of the American southwest. That’s probably why I also love the music of Rich Mullins. He basically wrote the soundtrack of the American desert. I also love Rich’s music because he says things that are truer and purer than what I’ve been trying to live out. Having been a pastor in the Church Industrial Complex,[1] one of the things I’ve been taught is that I need to lead with my strengths and either master the areas where I’m lacking or pretend they don’t matter or exist. One thing is for sure, the people I shepherd need to know that I am together enough to lead them in a way that makes them comfortable and not suggest that I am as broken, insecure, and vulnerable as they are. How could I possibly lead them otherwise? I have been accused on more than one occasion that I share my brokenness a little too freely and that makes some people uncomfortable or that a pastor just shouldn’t share those things. It’s not that I can’t have those things, it’s just that I shouldn’t let others know until there is enough passage of time between my struggle with those things and the present day. I think there is something dreadfully wrong that began a long, long time ago and it desperately needs to be corrected. It might even be the reason that, as hard as I try, I just can’t get to a depth of intimacy with Jesus that the Bible says is possible.

 In the Garden

Let me start where I think the lie we’ve built ministry upon began. God planted a garden in Eden where he placed Adam, the man he created.[2] Then he made Eve, the woman who was the perfect fit for the plan of tending and expanding the beauty of this garden. It was the perfect environment for humanity to grow a deep and intimate relationship with God. At the completion of this beautiful and personal moment with God, the narrative says, “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.”[3] Before moving on, what is the most vulnerable state a human being can find himself in? I would argue that it is the state of nakedness, whether physical or emotional, it is our most vulnerable condition. We even have a terrifying “reality” series called Naked and Afraid. Interestingly, Adam and Eve found themselves in the garden and they were fully comfortable, without shame in this vulnerable position. Fast forward to the moment that the couple rejects God’s clear instruction, believes the serpent’s lie, and shoulders the blame for sin entering this ideal environment. Here’s where the lie that we are raised to believe is necessary begins to take form. Adam and Eve’s eyes were immediately opened, and the first thing they realized was that they were naked. They had been naked and vulnerable all along, but now realized it. So the first thing they did was to cover themselves and then hide from God as he arrived like clockwork to go for a walk with them. The solution to their very real vulnerability was to make it disappear and hope that no one noticed.

 According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the word vulnerable is derived from the Latin word vulnerare, meaning “to wound.” The definition includes “capable of being wounded” and “open to attack or damage.”[4] The interesting thing is that Adam and Eve were in a state of vulnerability since they took their first breath and they were fine with it, no anxiety or fear or desire to protect themselves. What changed? Sin had redefined their environment and their relationships. But before the corruption of sin, vulnerability was not something that needed to be eliminated. In fact, it was this vulnerability that evidenced their total dependence on God and satisfaction in Him. They had no shame, they had no fear, they had no reason to believe that total reliance on God was a sign of weakness or that it suggested they were not enough. This dependence that resulted from their vulnerability is what drew them toward intimacy with God. What did Adam and Eve do to deserve or maintain their lives? Nothing. They were keenly aware that their mere existence was dependent on God who created this perfect environment and pursued intimate relationship with them. They were unconcerned that they could not live without him. Vulnerability was not a weakness to be overcome, it was the posture of intimacy with God. This is the vital element for living in communion with God. Only after breaking God’s command and sin entering into God’s perfect creation did the enemy redefine vulnerability as something that needed to be eliminated as a weakness. The exact moment that Adam and Eve desperately needed to lean into the intimacy they had with God, they went the other way and tried to cover themselves, hiding from the only one who could actually deal with what they had done. Imagine what the conversation could have been like as God asked them if they needed help. “No God, were good. We found some leaves and provided for ourselves.” And from that point on, those who bear God’s image have done a great job of minimizing their vulnerabilities believing they are less dependent on God while drifting further and further from Him. I don’t believe that we can truly become intimate with God apart from embracing our vulnerabilities because pre- or post-fall, this is how God designed us to find true intimacy with him. 

In Obedience

The author of Hebrews seems to give solid credibility to the vulnerability-intimacy connection. “And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account. Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”[5] No matter how well we dress up or hide our vulnerabilities, they will be exposed. When we have been completely exposed, we have an opportunity to be fully known and then either find intimacy or rejection. As long as I have things hidden, there will always be a chance my house of cards falls apart. The beauty of vulnerability with God is that we have confidence to draw near and find intimacy with our Father on his throne. If I am naked and exposed to his eyes and he still bids me come, then there is nothing left to be afraid of and I can experience the intimacy with him that I was created for.

I am fully convinced that without vulnerability in our relationships with one another and with God, there will be a ceiling to our intimacy. My confession as a pastor and as a person is that I am constantly in conflict with myself over whether or not living out my vulnerability before God and others is worth what it costs. It’s often painful and sometimes people don’t know what to do with a person who doesn’t hide. As much as I wish that I would experience the intimacy I am craving every time I’m willing to step out in vulnerability, I don’t. But when is obedience contingent on results that I want? I can’t help but wonder how many of us who minister in our backyard all the way to those who serve in far away places have decided to be “fine” and project an appearance of strength for the sake of the call. That kind of thinking never ends up in finishing well. The hard work of vulnerability is that it forces me to the precipice of total dependence on God. I have to trust that God is enough when I no longer have control over what others see and when I no longer am protected by an image that I am more together and stronger than I am. I’m getting better at living this out, but I’m still not to the place of intimacy with Jesus that I yearn for.

My prayer for myself and for you is that we can grow to a place where we agree fully in heart and mind that God’s grace is sufficient for us, because his power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore we can boast all the more gladly of our weakness, so that the power of Christ may rest on us.[6]

Maranatha.



Matthew has been pastoring in one form or another from the Midwest to Central California for 20 years. He and his wife are in the parenting adult children season of life.  Over the last few years, Matthew has been awakened by the Maranatha Cry and now carries with him a deep conviction to ready the church for the return of Jesus, calling the church to intimacy with Jesus and obedience by making disciples.