This is Insane

"The job of a football coach is to make men do what they don't want to do, in order to achieve what they've always wanted to be." -- Tom Landry

I always say I want to be in shape, that I want to workout, that I want to stay healthy.  But do I really want these things?  Because when the time comes to actually do something about it, it is so much easier to not do the things that would bring about change.  So, if I say I want to do something, but don't do anything in response to it, do I really want to do it at all?

I've recently started a new workout regimen called "Insanity."  It really is ridiculous, a sort of slow torture that is designed for people who want boot camp without the uniform.  When I think about it, I get excited.  When I tell people about it, part of me is proud that I'm doing it.  But when it comes time to actually stick the DVD in there and DO it, I'm filled with a sense of dread.  I know after I'm done I'll feel better, but it is just SO difficult that it is a struggle to get motivated every single time.

This week I'm preaching on spiritual disciplines.  They aren't any easier.  The hill we have to climb is less related to physical discomfort (most of the time).  But the dread and the pain involved in exercising the spiritual disciplines is no less real than the pain of physical exhaustion.  And frankly, most of us just won't do it.  We know we should, we may even tell others they should.  But we have been nurtured in a culture where comfort is a god to be worshiped.  And we are at his feet (on soft carpet).

Does this sound crazy to you?  Maybe it should.  My favorite preacher William Sangster wrote a sermon called "Drunk and Mad."  In the message, he talked about two passages in Acts.  The first is in Acts two, where the apostle Peter has to defend those who've received the Holy Spirit from the charge of being intoxicated.  He explains, "These men are not drunk, as you suppose" (Acts 2:15).  The second is when the Apostle Paul is making his defense before Festus and Festus accuses him of being crazy.  Paul responds, "I am not insane, most excellent Festus” (Acts 26:25).

Have you noticed? No one seems to think Christians are crazy any more.  This is not a good sign.  When what we do is making perfect sense to people who are lost, the church has missed the boat.  The Spirit, like Elvis, has left the building.  I wonder how long the American church will be content with this status quo?  And I wonder how many of us are willing to endure the pain to live differently rather than just ponder it.  If we really do, prepare to have people think you're nuts.

Wouldn't that be great?