Image: "Whether Awake Or Asleep"
©Jan Richardson
©Jan Richardson
November 16, 2014
You can tell a lot about a company by the risks it takes.
Insurance companies take low risks based on carefully calculated actuary tables.
That's good for us--we pay them to be safe.
Venture capitalists, on the other hand, eagerly go out in search of ways to risk money.
Losing it all is considered better than keeping what they have.
Today's parable of investing clearly puts the church in the venture capital category; and calls Jesus an entrepreneur who values risk over security.
Now, if that analysis is at all close to the truth, then how did the church become the largest, safest insurance company in the world?
Why have Catholics replaced Jews as Keepers of the Law instead of following the frisky spirit of adventure?
The Christian church began as a dare.
It dared to believe that the ancient dream of a savior actually came true.
The idea was so risky, the synagogue terminated their policy and forced them out.
So the church left the security of the traditional biblical ideas and took a chance on the new-fangled Greek philosophy.
That risk was repaid with the genius of Catholic theology.
And when the overly sophisticated Greeks lost their virility, the church threw in its fortune with the barbaric Roman hoard.
That high risk resulted in the Holy Roman Empire which ruled the world for centuries.
But when that amazing empire started to disintegrate, the church seemed to lose its nerve.
Anything new and exciting seemed to traumatize it.
In succeeding centuries, this insecure Church winked at the Enlightenment, winced at Nationalism, cringed at Industrialism.
And at the onslaught of Science, she stashed our mighty God in a fortress for safekeeping.
But it is perhaps unkind to belittle the fears of others while our own knees are shaking.
Prudence is still a cardinal virtue.
But when prudence paralyzes us, it becomes a deadly vice.
You can die of prudence without ever having lived.
But life is supposed to be Lived,
not Preserved!
Unbelievers seem to sense this more than we.
Pagans attack life, devour it each day as if there were no next day.
For them, there isn't.
For us, the miraculous belief in resurrection appears to have backfired.
Christians ought to swing from birches over roaring flames to land on a narrow ledge with the aplomb of a cat confident of eight more lives.
Instead, we camp on the safety island out of traffic.
Christians ought to dare the impossible, knowing that we cannot finally fail.
We ought to defy death, knowing that we will bounce right back.
We ought to be in the thick of the action instead of being wallflowers at the dance of life.
Why has Christianity not bred a breed apart, a people of adventure and daring?
For people who have been promised life overflowing into eternity, we expect far too little.
Creative people do not compress their lives, they enlarge them.
Architects always work with what they call the "Next Larger Context."
They design a room with the house in mind,
the house with the lot in mind,
the lot with the neighborhood in mind.
Humans are the architects of the universe.
Some of us have discovered continents, walked on the moon.
What have we done?
Christians are architects of the Kingdom of God.
Some of us have converted whole nations and died for the faith.
What are we daring?
I know.
It is no small thing to raise children, support a family, live single in a double world, balance a budget, and maintain sanity.
I know.
Some days, just holding the scattered pieces together is a heroic accomplishment.
I know.
Grimly holding on is sufficient for people who have nothing more to hope for, who are content to grind their teeth in the dark.
But for people of the Light, the way things are is not good enough.
For those who want to share their Master's joy, risk is demanded.
Insurance companies take low risks based on carefully calculated actuary tables.
That's good for us--we pay them to be safe.
Venture capitalists, on the other hand, eagerly go out in search of ways to risk money.
Losing it all is considered better than keeping what they have.
Today's parable of investing clearly puts the church in the venture capital category; and calls Jesus an entrepreneur who values risk over security.
Now, if that analysis is at all close to the truth, then how did the church become the largest, safest insurance company in the world?
Why have Catholics replaced Jews as Keepers of the Law instead of following the frisky spirit of adventure?
The Christian church began as a dare.
It dared to believe that the ancient dream of a savior actually came true.
The idea was so risky, the synagogue terminated their policy and forced them out.
So the church left the security of the traditional biblical ideas and took a chance on the new-fangled Greek philosophy.
That risk was repaid with the genius of Catholic theology.
And when the overly sophisticated Greeks lost their virility, the church threw in its fortune with the barbaric Roman hoard.
That high risk resulted in the Holy Roman Empire which ruled the world for centuries.
But when that amazing empire started to disintegrate, the church seemed to lose its nerve.
Anything new and exciting seemed to traumatize it.
In succeeding centuries, this insecure Church winked at the Enlightenment, winced at Nationalism, cringed at Industrialism.
And at the onslaught of Science, she stashed our mighty God in a fortress for safekeeping.
But it is perhaps unkind to belittle the fears of others while our own knees are shaking.
Prudence is still a cardinal virtue.
But when prudence paralyzes us, it becomes a deadly vice.
You can die of prudence without ever having lived.
But life is supposed to be Lived,
not Preserved!
Unbelievers seem to sense this more than we.
Pagans attack life, devour it each day as if there were no next day.
For them, there isn't.
For us, the miraculous belief in resurrection appears to have backfired.
Christians ought to swing from birches over roaring flames to land on a narrow ledge with the aplomb of a cat confident of eight more lives.
Instead, we camp on the safety island out of traffic.
Christians ought to dare the impossible, knowing that we cannot finally fail.
We ought to defy death, knowing that we will bounce right back.
We ought to be in the thick of the action instead of being wallflowers at the dance of life.
Why has Christianity not bred a breed apart, a people of adventure and daring?
For people who have been promised life overflowing into eternity, we expect far too little.
Creative people do not compress their lives, they enlarge them.
Architects always work with what they call the "Next Larger Context."
They design a room with the house in mind,
the house with the lot in mind,
the lot with the neighborhood in mind.
Humans are the architects of the universe.
Some of us have discovered continents, walked on the moon.
What have we done?
Christians are architects of the Kingdom of God.
Some of us have converted whole nations and died for the faith.
What are we daring?
I know.
It is no small thing to raise children, support a family, live single in a double world, balance a budget, and maintain sanity.
I know.
Some days, just holding the scattered pieces together is a heroic accomplishment.
I know.
Grimly holding on is sufficient for people who have nothing more to hope for, who are content to grind their teeth in the dark.
But for people of the Light, the way things are is not good enough.
For those who want to share their Master's joy, risk is demanded.
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