Words: 874
Time to read: 5 minutes
Perhaps one of the most difficult decisions in the Christian walk is when we have to yield the good we do for Christ so that we can give Him our best. In the Gospel ministry, you may have surrendered. You may have given up on your dreams, plans, and future to follow His call. That is not a one-time thing. There can be no impassive commitment to Christ in His service. Too often we become so engaged in His work that we forget to check what the Master would have us do. I believe strongly in planting roots and a lifetime of service. That service, however, is not for my reputation, self-promotion, or idealistic projection of what the ministry should be. Faithfulness is not limited to planting roots deep in one place and saying, “God called me and I’m not going anywhere.”
Our faithfulness is not to any one ministry. It’s to Christ. Our allegiance is not to a location. It’s to our Lord. Certainly, there’s something to be said of faithfulness and decades of service in one place. I’m a beneficiary of such a ministry. Perhaps every once in a while, it would be good to look at it like this: have you allowed the comfort of His will and blessing in this place to become the supposed criterion of His blessing when it is merely your own stubborn self-will and desires? It can be easy to fall into the trap that because I’m in the ministry I must be in His will. We would be wise to remember and always seek not just to be busy in His service but constantly to sacrifice for His honor and glory. That could mean even sacrificing something God has allowed you to build or enjoy for the present so that His glory could be even more revealed through you.
I recently pondered on the call of Elisha. There’s little evidence that he was anything besides a young farmer toiling day in and day out on a piece of land that had likely been in his family since the days of conquest and settlement under Joshua. He’s doing what everyone expected of him. He’s not even presupposing that he’d be anything other than a farmer. And yet, for all the expectation, or lack thereof, of this young man, when Elijah quietly passes by his field and thrusts upon him his garment and with it all its gravitas, Elisha does not falter at the beckoning call. He quickly catches up to the elder prophet, asks for a moment to take leave of his family, then kills his pair of oxen and burns the apparatus that could keep him burdened to the field. Why such a radical step? Elijah never asked for anything akin to that. He never asked for anything. Our Book does not explain it, but I believe there to be a simple explanation. Had Elisha not burned his plow and yoke, the memory of all that he had left would forever be emblazoned on his heart. The family farm, one he was likely to inherit, would forever be beckoning, enticing him to return to comfort, the ease, and familiarity that he had grown accustomed to. With all that smoldering and a parting goodbye fresh off his lips, Elisha could go forward and not look back with any regrets.
We know that we must surrender. The issue often is not missing out on God’s best because of sin. Obviously, there have been plenty of examples of that both in God’s Word and our personal memory. Often we miss out on God’s best because we’re simply too comfortable and set on what we’ve got going at the moment. Even those of us who are already in ministry. The ministry has never been about comfort or personal platform building. This modern notion that so pervades our society today and metastasizes in our hearts as pride and self-promotion is foreign and altogether unseen in God’s Word. God is not seeking for us to have a following. He’s not looking for us to have influence. He’s looking for us to glorify Him in every aspect of our life. We preach on surrender yet shy from the awesome responsibility of self-denial. We bloviate about letting God use others and are completely ignorant and blind to our own self-will.
Don’t mistake me, I’m not advocating that you resign your pulpit next Sunday. I’m not saying that you up and leave everything behind. I’m simply curious if our comfort is not because we’re in His will but because of our own complacency and self-satisfaction. The pew always is a reflection of the pulpit. May we be living examples of a lifetime of sacrifice. Perhaps it’s time that we stop lobbying harangues on the uselessness of this generation in God’s service and start being the living sacrifice that we’re exhorted to be. Perhaps we’d be better served to be a broken vessel that He would have us be than scornfully berating the local church about the apathy of today’s world. May His will always be ours and not ours because of the benefits, prestige, or opportunities, but because it’s the only way that we can truly make a difference in the scope of eternity.