Author: Jonathan Dodson

Misplaced Security and the Promise of New Strength

Security. It’s something everyone wants, but doesn’t want to want. We all desire the assurance that our health, our families, our jobs, and our ministries will remain and not decline. If you’re like me, you want these assurances without the sense of dependence on other(s). When the noble layer of desire for security is peeled back, beneath festers a bubbly-hot, self-sufficiency—I want to be the source of security—for myself, my family, and yes, even my ministry. Removing this sense can lead to depression or spiritual awakening.

I have been without consistent income and clear ministry direction for months. In April 2005, I began interviewing for full-time ministry positions. It is now October 2006 and next week I will begin a “secular” job to support my family. During this time, I have visited and revisited my sense of calling. Should I be applying for teaching positions? Do I need more pastoral experience before planting a church? Should I apply for doctoral programs? Are there hidden character issues that need serious attention? Why has God chosen to not provide a full-time ministry position, one which I have been preparing for years to fulfill?

The answer that keeps coming back is wait upon the Lord (powerfully captured by Chris Tomlin’s new song, “The Everlasting God”. As vision for churchplanting grows and strategies begin to unfold, I am committed to planting with two other like-minded pastors and this has been a part of the waiting. However, the waiting goes much deeper. It is faith-growing patience and trust that God wants to cultivate beneath my ambition and in place of my self-security. It is acknowledgment of personal bankruptcy to carry out this vision of cultivating communities of Spirit-led disciples who redemptively engage peoples and cultures through Christ for the glory of God. It is waiting in weakness in order to discover that He alone is my security and strength.

When we wait, by faith and not by frustration, we are offered the rich promise of new strength: “Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary” (Isa 40.31). This is a strength that requires weakness and promises wings.

Interestingly, becoming strong through our weakness is God-like. Not only does God give us wings to fly in faith to new heights, but these wings, in turn, can be a godly source of strength and security for others, as we shepherd them into waiting on the Lord.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High Will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the LORD, “My refuge and my fortress, My God, in whom I trust!” For it is He who delivers you from the snare of the trapper and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark.” (Ps 91.1-4)

By waiting on the Lord, I am realizing that we gain a new strength, wings from weakness, that image forth God’s wings, his abounding generosity, protection, and love for his children. By waiting upon his provision and timing, his humbling and giving, I am beginning to truly bank on this all-too-familiar promise, a promise that holds out strength for me and for all whom I shepherd, knowing more deeply the superior source and sense of security that come with dwelling under the wings of the Most High.

Sanctification, Bono, & Barth

In his introduction to U2 By U2, Bono remarks:

“Your nature is a hard thing to change; it takes time. One of the extraordinary transferences that happen in your spiriutal life is not that your character flaws go away but they start to work for you. You’re insecure: you end up a performer who needs applause. I have heard of people having life-changing, miraculous turn-arounds, people set free from addiction after a single prayer, relationships saved where both parties ‘let go, and let God’. But it was not like that for me. For all that ‘I was lost, I am found’, it is probably more accurate to say, ‘I was really lost, I’m a little less so at the moment.’ And then a little less and a little less again. That to me is the spiritual life. The slow reworking and rebooting of a computer at regular intervals, reading the small print of the service manual. It has slowly rebuilt me in a bettter image. It has taken years though, and it is not over yet.

I think Bono is onto something here. Sure, it’s not the Puritan ordo salutis, but perhaps the ordo is a bit too organized, even for the Bible. Barth has said that sanctification is a series of conversions. The idea is that sanctification is salvation (not vice-versa) and salvation is as much a point as it is a process. Gradual change. Even the addict has deeper and more significant sins to deal with than addiction to crack. That’s just the surface of the sinner’s heart. But the propensity to be addicted just might be a spiritual value–the human impulse to desire, to crave.

Do you think Bono is right? Can spiritual transformation be described as “your character flaws working for you?”? What of his honesty? A dose of that for the evangelical church, starting with numero uno, could go a long way…

Electrolux and Humility


God’s provision can be humbling. As some of you know, we live on the Atlantic Ocean on Boston’s North Shore. Our rent–$150 a month–for a two bedroom garage apartment. 229 Summer St is nestled in the woods, on a hill overlooking the ocean. Below is a private beach, beyond is Cape Cod and the city of Boston. The view is stunning. But there’s a catch. In exchange for this outstanding rent, I do work on the grounds and errands for our landlords.

Yesterday I broke out the electrolux at my landlord’s request. Time to clean the two Lexus SUVs. Ironically, the Electrolux automatic is what I use to vaccum the SUVs. As I was vaccuming, I began to think about the humbling nature of this agreement–I do whatever work they want for cheap rent. I also did some of the weekly duties yesterday, like emptying all thier trash and recycling to take it down to the bottom of the driveway for pick-up. Picked up Poland Springs bottled water and sparkling water with lime and restocked their kitchen. Sometimes I wish I could just take out my own trash, vaccum my own car, and not buy my own fancy water.

But God’s desires are greater than mine. He has called me, us, to a life of humble service. Whenever he provides, humility should abound. God’s provision, I’m learning, is not only about meeting my physical needs, but also my spiritual needs. I am poor in humility. God wants to make me rich. So he provides a servant-like job in king-like grounds. I am a care-taker, not the king. All that God provides–health, finances, homes, children, respect, vocational success–should be a humbling reminder that I am brokering what is his. My family is his family. My money is his money. My success is his success. Whenever pride peaks at any flourishing in my life, may I always remember the Electrolux and vaccum any hint of hubris with repentace and faith in the gospel-providing God.