He Said Duty

I am the king of doing things out of a sense of duty.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's part of the internal mechnism for what makes me tick. It's one of my motivations in life. Every person has their own means of motivation. Some people are goal-oriented, some are people-pleasers, some are competitive, some act out of compassion. For me, duty is one of my triggers for action.

As a result, I'm Mr. Dependable. The go-to guy, the rock, fill-in man. If I say something, you can pretty much bank on it. Not that I'm perfect but I do feel like I have completely let myself down if I mess up on a commitment. Profuse apologies will almost certainly follow from me.

Let me prove it, then.

• I'm the person that has been a part of three different cell groups for the past seven years of my life with only a little time off as each group dissolved. Am I supposed to read the study notes, participate in discussions, spend time with friends, join in prayer? I'll get right on that.
• I'm the singer and percussionist that has been a constant part of church worship teams since I was a teenager. Four services on weekends? I'm there. One day a week for 4-hour practices, plus a long service on Sunday? Count on me. Appearing week after week for an entire year, with only a couple of weekends off? Not a problem. Leading worship at Young Adults or Youth Group, in addition to everything else? Yeppers.
• I'm the guy that missed having a mentoring relationship with someone, so I decided to join Big Brothers. And every single Saturday for more than two years now, I've been the Big that shows up at the door to pick up my Little. Money, time, energy, planning...I'll invest it all without a question.
• I'm the man with the van that always offers rides. Heck, that's why I bought a van instead of a much cheaper car. Need to go across town? Sure. Need a ride to church? Give me a call. Throw in a few more people and I can easily take more than an hour driving all about.

Such is my life. That's how I roll. At one point several years ago, I found that I was committing to too many things and I was exhausted and resentful as a result. I took that lesson to heart and I make sure that I do not commit to more things that I can reasonably handle. That's the reason that I will rarely volunteer to bring snacks to Young Adults. That's the reason that I will say no when someone asks if want to join yet another new ministry at church. That's also the reason that I constantly volunteer to give rides to friends, because an extra five minutes along my route to the same place doesn't cost me much.

And yet here I stand. More frequently these days, I find myself asking, "Why?" What is the purpose in this particular church ministry, or that particular service, or one other commitment? What is the point? What am I really accomplishing? What I am getting out of it, and what am I contributing to it?

And so I allow myself to question the need for a Sunday service. I allow myself to raise red flags when someone talks about starting a new ministry at church. I allow myself to doubt the effectiveness and goals of a new initiative. I allow myself to wonder if I can use my money better by not tithing and instead giving a friend a useful gift.

And in return, what is the most common response? Duty. We should do such-and-such because the Bible says so. We should do this-and-that because we're a member of the church. We're adults, we're good people, we have talents, we have friends that rely on us, so get on with it.

I am the master and commander of this sense of duty. I know better than most about doing things out of some idea of personal responsibility. I have been there and done that more frequently and for much longer than almost anyone else I know. I haven't done these things as part of my career or for any personal reward. I've done these things on my own and against the crowd for eons. My obediance is immediate and concrete, my submission absolute.

If I now politely refuse to join new activities, or I ask challenging questions, or I lost my faith in "church for the sake of church," what kind of man am I? It's so easy to question my commitment, to raise red flags about my servanthood, to doubt my personal goals, to wonder about my sacrifical spirit. The labels are right there and the stick is in reach for an easy beat-down.

I'm not suggesting that anyone actually does this to me or to anyone else that I know. For that matter, my friend Richard challenged me last week about my commitment to church and, as a loving friend, I knew that he was only asking me out of concern without any judgment. That's useful and encouraging. I can respond well to that.

However, I do find a lot of instant opposition when I raise honest questions about the value of the Sunday service or the like. We defend these things because that's just how things are. We serve this sense of duty to the institution of church and we add band-aid solutions and work-arounds for any problems that there might be. And while we're at it, we nail the people that leave church, that don't agree with the pastor, that have a slightly different theology. Out of love, of course.

And when I use the word "we," I actually mean "me." I am the man that said those very words. I am the one that has preached submission to church and pastor and elders, without ever looking at what the Bible says about this hierarchy. I am the one that privately doubted the commitment and heart of a person that refused to do anything besides attend Sunday services. I am the one that always expected more out of people and I was the one that was disappointed when people refused to conform.

I have seen the enemy, and he is me. I apologize for defending principles that I did not understand. I apologize for enforcing rules that I did not comprehend. I apologize for pouring out Bible verses as correction and instruction, only to guide people into shallow water. I apologize for defending institutions and habits and Christian ideas that should have had no defense. And most of all, I apologize for allowing my sense of duty to be more important than helping people find real life in Christ.

P.S. "Tee hee. He said 'duty.'"