How do you respond when things don’t work the way they are supposed to? I believe there is a qualifying question that should be added. What kinds of things impact you most when they don’t work the way they should? I would imagine that failed windshield washers on a car evoke a lesser degree of frustration or pain than a marriage that is not working or justice has been mishandled or abuse of a loved one. Some may not see the difference. In their view, everything that doesn’t work impacts them dramatically. Perhaps to some, tearing a paper off the perforated line is as dramatic as failing to fulfill a promise.
For most of us, however, there is a difference between the disappointment associated with critical things not working and mild frustration with minor breaks. For me, the mild frustration category is when the wheels on the car squeak or a person has a broken record response to every question or miscues on the primary point in a conversation. Those things happen. In fact, when certain things are not functioning properly, it can be humorous if you allow it to be. I have engaged in broken conversations that remind me of Abbott and Costello rendition of “Who’s on first.” The conversation didn’t work. But, it was hilarious that it didn’t. I will remember it for years- far longer than I will remember some of the conversations that worked well. Yet, that drives some people to distraction. Not me. I laugh at myself all of the time. Someone else should get in on the fun.
However, for me, it is no laughing matter when the church does not work at its most basic reason for existence- love, acceptance, forgiveness and commitment. When that doesn’t work well, there is little to laugh about and much to cry over. I have watched people languish in the world, needing someone to care for them and fail to find it in the church. That breaks the heart of Jesus and it certainly breaks my heart.
There will be people who are hurting and have messed up miserably. That is as certain to happen as water running down hill. However, responding with love and confidence and compassion and forgiveness is not something that should be too hard or laborious for us to do. That is why we are here. I’m quite sure that if someone comes to church on Sunday with a mess that has left them fractured, that it would be more critical that we helped that person toward recovery than we took notes on the sermon. However, sometimes the sermon is elevated above the need of the body. It is faintly reminiscent of Jesus trying to heal on the Sabbath rather than preserve the Sabbath’s best practices.
Whatever might not work in our lives, we can likely get over most of it. However, if love and acceptance and forgiveness and commitment don’t work, we are in deep trouble. I encourage you to find the broken and make sure that your “helping the broken” tools still work.