Hammering in the Nails

I’ve often been called an optimist — and not for good reason. There’s always been, I’ve found, traces of disapproval in the tones of those who diagnose this of me. And it’s true, I’m often naively optimistic, saying in truest caricature: “Smiling’s my favorite.” But optimism without hope is something Tom Wright calls a fuzzy optimism. And when floating and drifting rudderless, there’s really no journey I’m afraid to undertake. But something I’ve learned the hard way — pastoring a church will slap that smile right off of your face, as it’s no place for fuzzy optimists.

Three years ago, our church Christ Our Redeemer embarked upon a new journey through this thing called a church merge. And prior to merging these bodies into one church, a mentor of mine shared an analogy that stuck with me — that a church is much like a cruise liner and not a speedboat, because you can’t just pivot on command. New churches, likewise, don’t just happen but require planning and preparation that mitigate the possibility for these turns to amount to disastrous collisions and shuffles. And in these early steps in our church’s infancy, our intention has always been to plan and to prepare.

And that’s where Noah teaches us a great lesson. What we often remember in the Noah narrative is the event of the Flood. And how could we not? With a sizable boat preserving two of each animal and eight humans from the incessant rain pouring from the heavens, the plot travels quickly from gathering to gloom to the rainbow. But something that gets criminally overlooked in the narrative is Noah’s preparation. There’s debate on exactly how many years it took for Noah to build the ark, but the general consensus is that it took a really long time.

You might recall that Hollywood had its own take on the Noah story. And one of its many (depending on who you ask) errors in the film is the inclusion of the antagonist. They just had to let a bad guy into the ark, because Hollywood, much like the general public, severely underestimates the inner antagonist in all of us. And while John Calvin was very well aware of that inner antagonist of our sinful flesh, he was equally aware of God’s grace and mercy. In his commentary, he called the ark as the first picture of the church in a fallen world — where God holds securely those belonging to him as set apart from what’s outside the walls. For a significant detail with the ark is that it wasn’t Noah but “the LORD [who] shut them in” (Gen 7:16). For he who shut them in holds himself responsible for ensuring the preservation and security of those sealed within the walls of the ark. And with anything outside of God’s help, what we hold to is that fuzzy optimism that amounts to wishful thinking and an increasing uncertainty.

For Noah had planned and prepared for years with the certainty that God would do exactly as he would — protect and preserve those in the ark from what was beyond the walls of the ark. And what was it that Noah had constructed? We know it as the ark, but this was an extremely oversized wooden box with no steering capabilities. And while I don’t call life in the church an aimless or directionless endeavor, something that I learn from Noah is that much of the preparation Noah undertook was not to pave his own steps or directives.

I’ve heard numerous times the words of Tim Keller, when answering questions about what he wished had done different as a younger church planter. And each time, his answer remains the same — more prayer. Perhaps, this isn’t what the young and eager church minister or leader in the church is expecting to hear. We want missional strategies and growth methods. We want tools and tricks to maximizing the all-important scarcity of time. But what Noah and many of the matriarchs and patriarchs who have gone before show us is that man’s pursuits are aimless if they’re not guided and anchored by Word and prayer. And here, we pause and reflect on how Noah’s story teaches us about church in the modern world. For we live in a stormy and turbulent world seeking to disrupt what’s sacred in what’s built through and by God’s Word. All of us bring the inner antagonist with us into whatever community we join. But we can be certain that God’s overwhelming grace and promises are far more powerful and compelling than what maladies we bring in with us. And his Word is more indelibly carved into our Father’s records of us than any mistakes we’ve made by the virtue of Jesus’ perfect righteousness. Trusting in his unfailing promises, we hammer in one nail at a time.