Building Without Pretending / Part 2

Building Without Pretending
Part 2

The company of the prophets said to Elisha, “Look, the place where we meet with you is too small for us. Let us go to the Jordan ... and let us build a place there for us to live.” And he said, “Go.” Then one of them said, “Won’t you please come with your servants?” “I will,” Elisha replied. And he went with them. They went to the Jordan and began to cut down trees. As one of them was cutting down a tree, the iron axhead fell into the water. “Oh, my lord,” he cried out, “it was borrowed!” The man of God asked, “Where did it fall?” When he showed him the place, Elisha cut a stick and threw it there, and made the iron float. “Lift it out,” he said. Then the man reached out his hand and took it. 2 Kings 6:1-7 NIV

Last month we considered the need for dependence, guidance and teamwork in building the Church, as illustrated in 2 Kings 6:1-7 above. In this month’s conclusion we’ll look at borrowed tools, lost things, stagnation and restoration.

4. BORROWED TOOLS – we have what we need
On losing the axehead, the concerned prophet did not cry, “Oh my lord, I’ve lost my valuable tool.” As he worked chopping down those trees, there must have been something else on his mind: “The tool I have in my hands does not belong to me.” or “I am effective here only because I have been lent this axehead.” On losing it, his first concern was, “Oh my lord, it was borrowed.” There is a clear lesson here for Christian ministry.

As Christians we work with borrowed tools. Are we administratively or musically gifted? Can we communicate clearly? Do others, young or old, feel comfortable with us? Have we been entrusted with a car, a home, financial assets? Why do we think the Lord gives us such things? Aren’t we really administrators living and working with borrowed things? Like the hard-working prophet, may that also be always on our minds: “The tool I have in my hands does not belong to me.”

5. LOST – do you have what you had?
In Scripture, the theme of losing things is recurrent. A shepherd lost his sheep. A woman lost a coin. Joseph and Mary lost the boy Jesus for a few days. The church at Ephesus was in danger of losing its “lampstand.” In our story, the young prophet was working hard with the right company on a good project, yet he lost his axehead. He then ceased to be effective.

Collective loss: After getting married, my wife and I moved and joined a local church in the south of London. We visited the saints, in the process of getting to know each other. I vividly recall this comment of an elderly sister: “If you had been here 50 years ago, you would have had to arrive early if you wanted a seat at the meeting.” It was, again, one of those occasions when I felt that I was born too late! But now on Sundays we could have four chairs each, and there would still be some to spare.

As churches, we can lose things. Perhaps we immediately think of losing doctrine. That’s clearly possible. In our teaching and practice of Christianity we can depart from biblical orthodoxy. This can be done when we fail to distinguish between principle and application, between Scripture and tradition. Doctrinal departure can also be brought on by careless imitation of the current trend, be it religious or secular.

But we can lose more than doctrine. By insisting on too much order, we can lose life. Our meetings can be technically correct, but dead. We can turn inward and lose the passion to bring the lost to Christ. We can become more concerned with religious procedures and red tape than spiritual reality and health. We can become a subculture and cease to influence and attract those around us. We can become overly critical and judgmental, and lose the joy of true Christian fellowship. Are we collectively losing things?

Personal loss: It is easy to recognize failure in others, but let’s turn the search light on ourselves. Perhaps we can look back at those happy days: when there was enthusiasm, joy and freshness in our walk with the Lord; when we were used by the Lord to bring others to know Him; when by His grace we were instruments in the Almighty’s hand for the edification of fellow believers. But then something happened.

Perhaps we began to feel pleased with ourselves and self-confidence set in. Perhaps we began to compete with other believers, trying to be more successful, more spiritual or more correct than they. Maybe we were hurt by some brother or sister, and have allowed a root of bitterness to grow. Maybe we have seen so many inconsistencies, sin and cover-ups among believers that we have become cynical. Or maybe we became too busy at home, at work or even in the church, and our passion for Christ cooled off. And now our devotion and service isn’t what it used to be. We’ve lost our axehead. We’ve lost our cutting edge. Do we identify with some of this?

6. STAGNATION – the curse of pretending
With some time to reflect, it’s not too difficult to identify things we are in danger of losing or no longer have. It’s more difficult to determine what to do about it. As in the case of the shepherd who lost a lamb, the woman who lost a coin, and the prophet who lost his axe-head, the first step is to recognize the loss. The alternative is to deny reality, to pretend, to stagnate.

Imagine the young prophets happily swinging their axes making good progress in the forest. We can almost hear them laughing and singing as they work and perspire under the Middle-Eastern sun. Then something fairly insignificant happened. There was a small “plop” in the river Jordan. Did the other prophets hear it? Did anyone else notice? One young prophet had just lost his effectiveness. Without recognizing the loss, his work would never be the same again. He now faced a choice: continue swinging the axe handle at smaller trees or bushes to retain a feeling of progress, or face up to the reality of his loss. We also may painfully admit our loss, or continue to work hard while pretending.

Pretending is still hard work. One of the greatest dangers in Christian service is to continue working without the axehead. We hold the axe handle, and swing it as hard as always. We work hard, sweat, make the right noises, but we’ve lost our cutting edge! We carry on with our Bible studies, conferences, worship meetings, visits, etc., but without the joy, passion and effectiveness we once had. In fact, in our pretending, we are tempted to force visible results. We try to pick up the trees others have cut down. We become critical of those who display real joy in their Christian life. We judge the maturity level of those who still show passion in service. If we’re honest, we feel a bit envious of those who are still cutting down trees.

This need not remain so. Our God is in the business of restoration. But we must start by admitting that something has been lost. We must admit to ourselves and to the Lord that “unspeakable joy” is no longer a normal feature of our Christian experience, that our service is driven more by duty than passion, that there is now little evidence of the hand of God on our service. The restoration process begins when we freely confess our failure to the Lord.

7. RESTORATION – the human and the supernatural
The man of God asked, “Where did it fall?” As always in God’s path for restoration, we are called to return to the point of departure. Let’s look back. Where did we lose that cutting-edge in our service? How long have we been trying to do God’s work with just the axe handle? We must go back – to that bad attitude, that selfish project, that material ambition, that unrighteous act, those little lies, that careless attitude, that unresolved interpersonal conflict – and confess to the Lord. It was only after the prophet “showed him the place” that God began to restore.

The necessity of the supernatural: Restoration is not simply a matter of changing methods or adopting a new strategy. Revival will not come because we have rearranged the seating, adopted a new hymn book, started using musical instruments or changed the meeting time. Neither is it a matter of simply doing what we’ve always done. It’s not simply a matter of going to more meetings. The prophets didn’t dive into the water, or try to retrieve the axehead with a hook or a stick. Recuperation was not by human skill. If we desire to see again God’s hand over our life, our service and our assembly, we must cry out for divine intervention. The God we adore is a God of miracles. Only He can restore our axehead.

The necessity of the human: Most miraculous events are somewhat odd. Why did Elisha cut a stick and throw it on the water to make the axehead float? Why didn’t he simply say, “Axehead, float”? And if the axehead could float, why didn’t it also fly into the prophet’s hand, or onto the axe handle? Even with the miracle, the prophet still had to reach out and lift it out of the water. This combination of the supernatural hand of God coupled with human obedience is quite striking.

If Moses would not raise his rod, the Red Sea would not part. But the rod didn’t do it. It was the hand of God. Without walking round Jericho, the walls would not fall. But walking didn’t do it. It was the hand of God. Without Naaman washing himself seven times in the Jordan, God would not heal him of leprosy. But the washing didn’t do it. It was the hand of God. Without Paul and Apollos planting and watering there would be nothing to grow. But it wasn’t the planting and watering that made the seed grow. It was the hand of God.

Get Real!
If we are to be used in building something of eternal value, we must force ourselves to stop pretending and be real. To enjoy a genuine revival in our soul and in our church, we may well need to implement some changes. Without them there may never be revival. But the changes in themselves will not generate true revival. We desperately need the hand of God. We need a miracle. We need divine intervention. The early Church grew: “People believed and turned to the Lord” because “the Lord’s hand was with them” (Acts 11:21).

If we are to have a joyful Christian experience, to burn with passion in serving our Lord, to be used by Christ to build up His Church, we may well need some changes in our perception of God, in our style of living, in our spiritual disciplines. But above all we need the hand of God. Do we really want that? It’s the only alternative to pretending.

By Philip Nunn