Walking the Path

Several years ago I saw my heart and it was like God was showing me that I was not a compassionate person. I felt this challenge in my heart: What are you going to do about it? As a Jesus follower, I knew that he taught us to be compassionate, just like he and the Father were. I knew it would not come naturally. I knew it would require grace. But I also felt led by the Spirit to get off my knees where I was waiting for grace to “rain down” and begin to step out. This stepping out was the beginning of an interesting and challenging journey. A journey I had longed to go on for many years; one that I and others had talked about ad nausea in life groups; one whose lessons have exceeded what we imagined in those discussions – lessons that could not be taught in a discussion group.

There are dangers to such a journey, just as there are dangers to passively not starting the journey. The dangers, however, are more perceptible to me on the journey than when I was not on the journey. We have used the ridge path metaphor to describe those dangers. One of the dangers, perhaps the one that prevents some from even starting the journey, is the issue of pride. We have been wrestling with this issue.

Whenever you talk about your journey or, in my case, blog about it, the issue of pride comes up. Maybe it has come up to you, as a reader (all 2 of you). Maybe you have questioned whether pride is mixed in with some of what we are doing. I suspect it has, because it has come up in our own minds and discussions. We wrestle with this. Do you appreciate the tension, though?

We are on our own journey of discipleship; however, we also feel strongly that such a journey should not be taken alone. It seems the design of discipleship is to bring others along. We want and need others to journey with us. This seems quite biblical. How does one do this? Do we passively wait for God to bring others to us, or do we do some form of “promotion”? Obviously, we have decided to include promotion. We blog about the project. We write grants and ask for supportive comments. We write brochures describing what we do. We stand up in front of church and talk about what we are doing. Is this the way to go? We will see. People are supportive, but no one is beating on our door to join us.

So, what about pride? Since I write about this stuff, I can reflect on this. When I write about that fact that we are building 5 beds for kids in poverty who do not have beds, this excites me. I do not think the excitement comes from pride because I am doing it. I think this would excite me whether I was doing it or not. If someone told me they were doing this, I think I would think that that was one of the coolest things. The excitement comes from the fact that an injustice is being addressed; that love can come through in a world filled with evil, hate, and injustice. I don’t think that is pride. It may be more like joy.

We are meeting with William weekly. I so much want him to succeed. Why, because my pride is wrapped up in this effort? Maybe, but I desperately want him to succeed because I want to believe that compassion and community can work like I hope it does. I yearn for love to prevail. I need it to because my doubts are often immobilizing.

There is a distinction between pride and setting your light on a hill, or express joy, or encourage others to walk the path. Because the two can be misperceived, does that mean we suppress the former? False humility is the flip side of pride. I suspect that walking the ridge path of proper works runs the risk of being judged as prideful. It is a risk, however, that should not deter us. We need to enjoy the view from the ridge because it is beautiful. We also need to realize that we are on a ridge and watch our footing. We most certainly will lose our footing at times. That's why we should never travel alone.