Words from the Office
In September, I was privileged to preach at the outdoor drive-in worship service in Fennville many of you are familiar with. The proceeds support the Rev. Ralph Houston Memorial Fund, honoring the legacy of Fennville Immanuel Reformed Church’s longtime pastor. Ralph, along with his wife Sandra, devoted many years to missional work in the community before his death, which eventually led to the ministry closing to make room for something new. The service is only canceled for inclement weather, such as thunderstorms or a tornado watch/warning. Otherwise, it’s all systems go. While the sound system has been recently upgraded, the experience is still far from polished or extravagant. It’s simple, heartfelt, and absolutely beautiful. I love preaching there. From the partially enclosed, two-story building where the preacher and worship leaders are stationed, you enjoy a bird’s-eye view of a sea of automobiles scattered across the field. Congregants honk their horns in lieu of saying, “Amen.”
Before the service began, I spoke with a gentleman who shared that he was in recovery. He thanked the Lord that there had not been, in his words, “a sip nor slip” in 34 years. A few months later, I encountered a woman who was celebrating 12 years of sobriety. Her rock bottom was when her husband and best friend found her unconscious on the living room floor. Many people are familiar with AA (Alcoholics Anonymous), Al-Anon (which supports families and friends of alcoholics), and Celebrate Recovery (a Christian 12-step program), because alcoholism, pride, disordered eating, violence, neglect, drug use, sexual immorality, working too much or not enough, or other unhealthy coping mechanisms have touched their lives.
Part of why simplicity is so beautiful is that it helps to protect us from ourselves.
Simple words. Simple tasks. Simple living. Simple faith.
Of course, the temptation, however, is to supersize everything, which leads to the perception that nothing is enough. Leonardo da Vinci once said, “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication,” but today, in a world saturated with gadgets and gizmos, where we’re racing toward a real-life version of The Jetsons, it is easy to think that perspective is obsolete or patently false.
Preaching from an overgrown tree stand, with wind blowing in your face, to a congregation of rubber and metal cars might take some grit, but it’s far harder to come clean about one’s shortcomings and acknowledge how those flaws have impacted others. Testimony and confession are good for the soul. They are also a practical way to simplify life, refocusing on what and Who truly matter—as we pursue healing.
2 Corinthians 5:16-21 offers valuable insight: “So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”
I am a minimalist pretty much. Although people sometimes drive me crazy, I value relationships over possessions. And while aesthetics has its place in my life, in many respects I’m drawn to what is practical or utilitarian. Too much stuff—especially when it’s unused or unnecessary—only gets in the way and makes it harder to appreciate the simple things in life.
As we navigate our journey of reconciling past decisions with present ones in pursuit of a mature future, may we recognize how hard it is to resist temptation, whether that means refraining from alcohol, controlling our anger, avoiding unhealthy places, or resisting other modes of rebellion. Thankfully in Christ, we are anchored to the firmest possible foundation. Let’s relate well to, support, challenge, and encourage those who are doing their quiet, critical work to experience renewal.
Avoiding “a sip nor slip” is no small feat. It requires a grace-filled, one-day-at-a-time commitment. The process is simple but rigorous; truly a miracle when you take the time to consider it.
Pastor James
