Value Added

Last night Sue and I attended a $150 a plate fund raising dinner for a good cause.  There were provincial representatives, a mayor, council members, the police chief, a number of other dignitaries, and it featured displays of remarkable talent.  There was a silent auction with an impressive array of offerings as well as a drawing for a very expensive item.  The people involved were sincere, passionate, and generous.  But something was off.  

The first moment came when the speaker referred to the “commodity of compassion.”  The second came with the all-too-familiar reference to “adding value” to people, through services and things.    

Adding a building – or a home, or a second home, or a farm or a new location -- doesn’t add value to you.  You are valuable.  Adding clothes or jewelry or tattoos doesn’t add value to you.  You are a treasure.  Adding degrees or certificates or credentials to your resume doesn’t add value to you.  You are priceless.  Adding status or popularity or a good reputation to your name doesn’t add value to you.  You are significant.  You matter.  You are of immense worth.  You bear the stamp of God himself.  Value added?  

When God created us at the beginning, he made us a reflection of himself.  He made us like he is.  He gave us a role that includes the care and custody of creation – a daunting task and privilege.  He made us – men and women equally – “in his own image.” 

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

So God created man in his own image,

in the image of God he created him;

male and female he created them.

Genesis 1: 26, 27

You don’t get more value added than that.  And because you carry God’s likeness within you, you are a child of the King.  You don’t need things or degrees or other people’s approval to make you matter, and nothing you have done can make you stop being in his image.  You can desecrate it, but you can’t disown it.  You can act contrary to your best capabilities, but you still matter, you are still worthy, you are still priceless and glorious.  You are made in the image of God. 

It is a truth that can solve any self-image issues you have and propel you toward purposeful living. You matter.  You are glorious.  Yes, you need an antidote for the bent within each of us to deface the glory within. And there is such a cure.  But you are of priceless value, of glorious significance, and you share a piece of divine real estate with the rest of humanity – right there inside you. 

Collusion in the Church

Leave our idols alone, and look the other way when we sin, and we’ll give you a comfortable living.  And God will bless us.

The man Micah had a shrine, and he made an ephod and household gods. Now there was a young man of Bethlehem in Judah, who was a Levite.  And as he journeyed, he came to the hill country of Ephraim to the house of Micah. And Micah said to him, “Where do you come from?” And he said to him, “I am a Levite of Bethlehem in Judah, and I am going to sojourn where I may find a place.” And Micah said to him, “Stay with me, and be to me a father and a priest, and I will give you ten pieces of silver a year and a suit of clothes and your living.” And the Levite went in. And the Levite was content to dwell with the man, and the young man became to him like one of his sons.  And Micah ordained the Levite, and the young man became his priest, and was in the house of Micah.  Then Micah said, “Now I know that the LORD will prosper me, because I have a Levite as priest.”

Judges 17

The current, traditional, "paid professional” model of pastoring is vulnerable to conflict of interest.  Maybe it's even inherent.  Look the other way about leaders' “household gods” and you can keep your job.  If we refrain from confronting the powerful about their sin issues (their "idols"), they’ll take care of us.  We can have a job, provide for our families, and hopefully have some stability.  None of us went into the ministry to build wealth after all.

That’s what the young Levite was after.  He was from the priestly class in Israel, so he had the pedigree.  Today, ours might include a degree from a respected seminary.  He was looking for a place to land.  The cultural climate during the time of the Judges was not unlike the rugged individualism, with its lack of respect for authority, characterizing North America today.  Lacking a king in Israel, “everyone did as he saw fit.”

The author makes a point to tell us that Micah had household gods – a reflection of the mix-and-match, make-God-in-our-image, syncretism of his day. There’s no indication the Levite calls his keeper to repentance for his idolatry.    Micah wants to have his cake and eat it too: keep his idols and worship God too.  And the Levite not only accepts his keeper’s compromise, he defends it.  In the next chapter, the Levite challenges five men – with their hundreds of armed companions – for taking the idols... till they offer him a job.

It’s okay if we prove our orthodoxy going after other people’s idols and confront their sin – especially if they are out of favor with the powerful.  It’s okay to go after heretics, liberals, Democrats, that denomination that just doesn't "get it" like we do, the "other," and the weak, baby Christians who haven't yet learned the right code words, the jargon, the correct political positions, the dos and don’ts of the mores of the North American Christian subculture, who have trouble fitting in, whose lives are messy, who aren’t as skilled at hiding their messiness as the veteran church goers.  But don’t trample in the garden of the power brokers.  Don’t challenge them about their idols. Or you will pay, stoned like the prophets of old.

They are paying our salaries after all; they hold our purse strings.  Like the Levite at Micah’s, if we turn a blind eye to their household gods, they will provide for us.  And if we do give in to the lie, ultimately, clergy or lay person, we deceive only ourselves.  At the end of the day, such shepherds are hirelings, and it's a business relationship.  Pastors are slow to confront sin impartially because they know the powerful will turn on them the moment they do.  And like Micah in our passage, leaders comfort themselves with the belief that because they are giving pastors a living, God owes them a blessing.

Reflect:

• If you're a church leader, what household gods -- what blind spots, what idols -- do you discern in your own heart, within your leadership, or in your congregation?  
• When does your natural tendency to hide your sin create a conflict of interest with your own willingness to be held accountable by the pastor you're paying?  
• How does your collective need for the gospel keep you both honest for the sake of Christ's church?