When I was 16, I worked on the maintenance staff at a summer youth camp in upstate New York called Word of Life Island. One of my assignments was as a team member of the setup/tear down team for a twice-weekly concert the Word of Life Bible Institute put on. Through the week of July 4, the concerts highlighted a patriotic theme. So, one of the elements we had to set up was a pair of large mock “statues of liberty” which were 10-12 feet tall. Each weighed a few hundred pounds.
They were an element of the program that everyone on maintenance hated because it was the epitome of a “long run for a short slide.” The statues were on a swivel base. Throughout the 45 minute concert, the audience saw only a flat decorated background. On the very last song of the concert, the statues then swiveled 180 degrees as a patriotic anthem soared. This was capped by a small fireworks display. Yee Ha!!
The point of this blog surrounds the transportation of the statues. In transit they reclined on their back. They were so big and bulky that we had to surround each statue with about 10 young men and pick it up and walk with it. It was no fun….at all. One of the other young men on the team was named Colby. Colby was a very funny fella. Nothing seemed to faze him, and he was particularly strong for a 16 year old; a real farmer type.
One of the first times we moved the mockup of Frederic Bartholdi’s masterpiece, I noticed ol’ Colby was straining like an Olympic powerlifter in the Clean and Jerk competition. His face was red like tomatoes, and the tendons in his neck were so pronounced, if I had a bow, I could have fiddled The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Keep in mind, we were all straining to move this leviathan of a stage piece, but Colby was the only guy who seemed to be testing the limits of his abdominal cavity. Someone said, “Colby, you’re gonna give yourself a hernia. Relax.”
What Colby hadn’t figured out was that the statue was so heavy, and so bulky, that it was impossible for him to singlehandedly control its outcome. Although he was lifting with all of his might, it really made little difference to the distributed weight the other 9 of us had to carry. Had he stopped lifting, we would probably not have sensed it. As I reflected on this funny little event in our staff meeting this week, it struck me how many folk treat ministry activities like Colby.
I do it all of the time. I am part of a great church with a wide array of ministries. I am responsible to ensure they are moving along properly. It takes an organized staff, and a small army of volunteers to operate smoothly. We often use the phrase “help shoulder the load of ministry” to emphasize that to work effectively in the church, we each have to manage certain levels of responsibility.
Yet too often I think I can grab the 800lb gorilla of ministry and lift it all by myself. I strain, grunt, pull, push, get red in the face, and for what? The work of the Lord is wide and heavy and bulky. It was not designed to be manhandled by a select few. This grit-your-teeth mentality only leads to frustration, anger and bitterness. I begin to think I am the only one out on a limb. I am the only one “really dedicated” to the cause. I am the only person who cares. No one else pushes themselves like me. No one sees all that I’m doing. I’m indispensable. And boom, pride and egocentricity suddenly dominate the landscape Jesus created for love, selflessness and a servant’s heart. Don’t get me wrong, we all need to work hard and shoulder the load, but serving the Lord is a tremendous team effort. Relax, or you’ll give yourself a ministry hernia.
