In last week’s post I complained about using Easter as a metaphor for the cycle of the seasons or a kind of vacuous spirituality. But then I talked about a potted Easter flower already drooping on our kitchen table. I wrote, “Perhaps it serves as a metaphor for the danger of Easter faith drooping as Sunday turns to Monday and a new week too much like the old week unfolds before us.”
Several of you were kind enough to respond. Reflecting on the danger of drooping faith, one of you wrote, “Maybe next week you can write about not allowing that to happen.”
Hm. So how do we keep our faith from drooping? The new week gave another metaphor to help as I pondered the question. On Good Friday I ordered a needed item from a seller in Wisconsin, but the need was not urgent. No next-day delivery needed, and no next-day delivery promised. Good enough. The Monday after Easter I received notification that the package had been placed into the keeping of the US Postal Service and that I could expect delivery by Friday, April 10. Good enough. Still a week or so before I would need it.
I tracked the package, as we do these days. It made it to Madison, WI, by Tuesday and was in Indianapolis by Wednesday. Things looked good. Just an interstate run up to Fort Wayne and then the short trip to Auburn. But Friday came and went. By Saturday it had turned up in Charlotte, North Carolina. It was quickly sent to Gastonia, North Carolina and was back in Indianapolis by Sunday. Delivered to our mailbox on Monday. All’s well that ends well.
Now, I should say that we have seen FedEx and UPS send packages on more exotic trips than my package’s 3-day, 1200 mile trip to North Carolina. But I can also say that the USPS Indianapolis Distribution Center is notorious for its mis-directed packages. A year ago Congress launched an investigation of the center because of so many complaints about lost and delayed packages.
I wonder if my Christian life isn’t like my three-day late package. I tend to take side trips from Indianapolis to North Carolina when I should be headed north to Auburn. I find myself on I-70 east when I should be on I-69 north.
“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love,” the old hymnist wrote.
Pilgrim must not only flee the City of Destruction, he must enter the Wicket Gate. But even on the path to the Celestial City he encounters guilt, despair, mocking persecution, and false teaching.
I am prone to wander. My Easter faith can droop. I end up in Charlotte, North Carolina, instead of Auburn, Indiana. Maybe Congress should investigate. Or maybe there are ways to limit my wandering ways.
As a first response to my friend who wrote last week, some initial thoughts on avoiding wandering:
- Drink of the ordinary means of grace – regular participation in the life of a congregation where the word is purely preached, the sacraments rightly administered, and the people offer prayer for one another and praise to the Triune God.
- Read the Bible daily, devotionally and in serious study – and join a group of brother and sister pilgrims in your study of the Bible.
- Pray even when you don’t feel like it or don’t understand it.
- Seek deep fellowship and friendship with other Christians.
- Serve in a ministry of the church – teach Sunday School or set up tables; join a committee or sing in a choir or praise group.
- Share in mission – love your neighbor and our needy world in word and deed. Talk about Christ and faith with non-Christian friends and offer time and talent to works of care, compassion, and evangelism.
- Come to Christ for his rest and his strength when the burdens of despair, temptation, worry, and guilt are too heavy to bear alone.
Seven habits to end my wandering ways? No, gifts of grace always ours – even when faith droops. Even when we find ourselves in Charlotte, North Carolia, instead of the home to which we have been called.