The Fruit of Failure

 

One of the questions we discussed in the Methodist Identity: Our Story class was how John Wesley's experience in Georgia prepared him for fruitful ministry later. 

Wesley’s experience in Georgia – his failure in Georgia – prepared him in at least two ways for a fruitful ministry later.  On the way to Georgia, he encountered a group of Moravians.  Watching them and their devotional practices during frightening ocean experiences helped him to see that his relationship with God could be closer.  He believed if his faith had been stronger, he would have been less frightened as he saw the Moravians were.  Whether this is true or not, it did create in him (or enhance) a yearning for something more.  Secondly, his failure as a missionary, even up to and including legal charges, created a new humility in John.  He left Georgia less reliant on himself and his own beliefs and abilities.  Amy Oden calls it a “heart broken open.”  He is more prepared to rely on God than he was before.

What is the role of failure in our ability to have fruitful ministry? I can see how John's new humility would open him to new ways for relating to other people and to God. When we learn from our mistakes - what we should do and should not do - and when we allow failure to transform us from what we were into something new and better, we are growing, aren't we? We are allow God's grace to sanctify us.

I doubt any of us like the pain of failure or humiliation (John Wesley left Georgia fleeing from legal charges). We should take care not to waste the pain.

Failure

Pipestem River

Brene Brown, in her book, Rising Strong, is speaking of her guiding principals - the basic tenets about being brave.  This first one is:

"If we are brave enough often enough, we will fail; this is the physics of vulnerability. When we commit to showing up and risking falling, we are actually committing to falling.  Daring is not saying, "I'm willing to risk failure." Daring is saying, "I know I will eventually fail and I'm still all in."

This is true in life, but I want to talk today about how it is true in the Body of Christ - in the work we call "church." I think in our church we are afraid.  We are afraid that not enough people are coming. We are afraid because we don't know what to do about it. We are so afraid, and so tired of the fear, that we do nothing. 

Do we fail to try because we are afraid of failure? Maybe sometimes. Is it freeing to realize that stepping out, and trying something, guarantees failure? Can we move forward with ideas if we give ourselves the permission to fail - not even that, but the expectation of failure?

1. Do we not ask someone to do something because we know they will say, "no"? Ask anyway. Knowing they will say "no," ask anyway. 
2. Do we fail to try an idea because someone says, "We've done that before, and it didn't work." Knowing that you will fail, the fact that it didn't work before is no excuse. Do it anyway - as long as God is leading and you are following, do it anyway. Or, if that doesn't seem like where God is calling you to go, then:
3. Do we fail to try something because someone says, "We've never done that before; it won't work." If you know you will fail, do it anyway.

The corollary to not trying is doing nothing. Do nothing will lead to nothing. Doing nothing is a failure. So try something instead. It's OK to fail - you are guaranteed to fail. At least fail at doing something instead of doing nothing.

Throwing Away our Failures

Our church has a Sunday evening worship service called Blueprint Worship.  In it, we explore different kinds of worship. One night last year, during Advent, we had prayer stations.

At each station, there was a different activity - different prayers, different thoughts to consider.  One of them was a nativity scene. We were asked to read the nativity scriptures, contemplate the nativity scene, and then use scissors, pens/crayons and paper to craft ourselves and place ourselves in the scene. 

My first crafty attempt didn't go so well, so I did it over.  After I finished, I gathered my scraps of paper, and headed to find a trash can.  I passed our associate pastor and said, "These are my failures. I'm going to go throw them away." I meant it as a joke, but God struck me with how profound the sentence was.

These are my failures; I'm throwing them away.  

We should do what I did with paper and scissors that night.  See our failures.  Learn from them.  And then throw them away in God's grace.