Risk

I led a retreat this past weekend for the leadership of the Broad Street Ministry in Philadelphia. This is definitely one of the important new church developments in America. Not liberal, not conservative, not "emergent." Just a community trying in center city Philly to look and feel like the Kingdom of God (last = first, greatness = service, new creation in a place of desolation, etc).

The theme of the retreat was "risk."

I had never given much thought to risk. I always assumed that a risk was an act of crazy abandon--rock climbing a sheer face, swimming with sharks, asking out the prettiest/handsomest thing in the bar.

Not true. Not exclusively true, that is. Risk is simple uncertainty. Not knowing the outcome.

Everything, in that light, is risk. Life = uncertainty. Life = risk.

The Way of Jesus is risk. You have to take up a cross, focus your life energy on service and love and forgiveness. Yes, that brings with it a precariousness: you risk being wounded by those you would love; risk being misunderstood or rejected; risk pouring yourself out and having nothing left. But every other way of life risks something, too. There's risk in making fistfulls of money: that you will have made money (or the things money can buy) more important than people; that people love you for your money, not you; that you die with lots of toys and no love.

Life is risky. Which risks are "better"? When the paths diverge in the yellow wood, and you need to make a choice about who you are, which path do you take--which set of risks will you assume?

Of course, all risk obscures what we hope lies at the end: reward. The reward, according to Jesus, of the Way of Jesus, is life. Participating in love that transcends you brings life to others and also to yourself. That's the promise that makes the risk worthwhile.

My recent exploration in risk has been giving up the image of myself as a radical--an image I cultivated for years as a nonprofit startup guy and as a seminarian (and probably for my first few years as a pastor). I loved to think that I actually GOT Jesus and that I was able to live the Way like few others were able. I loved that image of myself. Looking back, I say "yuck."

I'm letting that image go quietly into the night. I'm busy making a life instead of an image of a life. It makes sense to me this way, but letting go of that beautiful image of myself sure felt risky--felt like I was dying... giving up something dear and precious... even if it was false.

Perhaps that's the biggest risk of the Kingdom life. Not that we're asked to risk giving up certain things (money, safety, status, your life), but that we must risk giving up specific things--the ones we love most.