Just Do It (Right)

Swoosh (Photo credit: monojussi)

Just do it (right)... Nike's slogan hurt me last week.  Caught in the midst of the pre-Thanksgiving break storm of papers, presentations, and readings, the days since my last blog post were piling up.  It was Thursday afternoon, and I finally had a chance to write.  I had brainstormed the idea of "fellowship" earlier in the week, and so I set out on the path to a well-written and thought out post.  I thought it looked good, but when I  later asked my fiance about it, her response was, You didn't say much.  Not used to such critique from her, I brushed it off for a little while, but when I went back and read what I had put out I realized just how right she was.  While I could go back and add to what I said, I need to allow the failure to be real.  I missed the mark, and it won't be the last time.

I wrote last week because I desire for this to be engaged weekly.  While I'm in school I don't have a pulpit to preach from Sunday to Sunday, and this enables to reflect and invite all of you to consider how the Word speaks to you in your vocations.  This cannot mean, however, that I "just do it" knowing that I have a chance at redemption next week.  The routine does not exist for me to slack off when I don't feel like I have time.  For pastors, much like celebrities, politicians, and news reporters, our failures are public.  To speak from the pulpit, to write in the form of a blog, to give a meditation in a daily devotional is to be vulnerable.  Writing and speaking requires passion and articulation, it is expected to be understood in a certain way, it hopes to be agreed with yet challenge.  Unfortunately, requirements are often swerved away from; the path of mediocrity allows for sloppy work like what I did last week.  

Lest I make a mockery of my own blog for 2 weeks in a row, why am I giving a public admission of guilt?  I've mentioned before that I think churchgoers need to interact more with their leaders.  For most of us, the only interaction that we have with our pastor is probably the "thank-you" or "good morning" mentioned with a handshake as we walk out of the sanctuary (and that's if the pastor is in our aisle).  I want to encourage you to invite your pastor into conversations.  If you're wondering how that sermon about Jesus being the Bread of Life affects you as a farmer or why that quote from John Calvin on some doctrine that you can't even pronounce matters for you as a hairdresser, then ask your pastor that.  I can't guarantee he'll have an answer on the spot, but that's the prodding he may need to be reminded a world exists outside of academia and the jargon of commentaries.  Chances are your pastor may even be looking for a way to connect on things they enjoy; he might not know all of the stats for your favorite team or have any idea what flower you should plant with your hostas, but pastors are shockingly human.  Critics aren't always right or just, but their suggestions should remind us Just do it, and do it right.