Prodigal Magazine

Guilty of Quitting Too Soon


In communities where honest words and raw truth are the very currency of relationship, New Year’s resolutions tend to make us uneasy with their ring of unoriginality and a lack of authenticity.

I bet you’ve forgotten about yours already, haven’t you?

Or maybe you didn’t make any in the first place.

I think one of the main reasons resolutions fail is because they are usually profound, life-changing decisions made in obligation at a pre-planned season in time. The very concept of it deviates from the sense of organic living we’ve come to find most effective, and more often than not, our hearts are not ripe with the grace needed to conform to our good intentions.

Resolutions made at the turn of the year tend to sound more like “confessionals” cast in a positive light than true resolve.

Add that to the fact that our life turns are being made en masse with the rest of the population because it is dictated by a calendar, and the sense of emptiness is only amplified. There seems to be a general understanding that New Years Resolutions rarely bring true, noteworthy change.

With these things embraced in mind and heart, I still find the beginning of the year a good time to be intentional about priorities, goals, and dreams, at least in part because of some advice I was given. The advise didn’t have anything to do with New Years Resolutions per se, but I find it applicable. It proposed I step back and see my life and decisions with a wider angle, considering my personal goals in light of the global Church.

It asked me to consider how my actions had a wider impact.

When I lay this filter over my resolution making, it feels like a small act of worship… an offering to God… a seeking first of His Kingdom. I feel like I’m focusing the big picture of my life on something greater than myself, and I find more passion and resolve than if I’m simply hoping to run more, walk my dog more, or save more money (all of which I need to do).

When I set out to do this, I always pull up one of those end-of-year recaps from a media company. I look at the ways culture is memorializing the Church’s role in the affairs of our society, and I ask myself, “What can I do to help the Church?”

2012′s list of most-remembered events include: the Treyvon Martin shooting, the upholding of Obamacare, a fight over amnesty for the undocumented residents of our nation, a royal battle over gay marriage with the issuance of President Obama’s support and the Chick-fil-A debacle, a fight between cheerleaders and atheists on whether Bible verses could be used on football signs, the Aurora and Sandy Hook shootings, Hurricane Sandy, and last and certainly not least, the 2012 Election.

What will 2013 bring?

It is sometimes painfully obvious that I not only need to be the change, but I am an active part of the problem in the Church. The problem is not that we disagree. I think that’s actually a hopeful reality. It means we’re thinking, and it means we care deeply enough to fight about social issues.

The problem is that when all the words have been exchanged and viewpoints made unequivocally known, we so often throw our hands in the air and walk away, shaking our heads, incredulous at the notions others can embrace while calling themselves a Christ follower.

And with each passing scenario, we start our conversations a little cooler, a little more stand-offish, a little less trusting.

We argue like we don’t understand the fact that we, the Church, will never entirely agree on the proper response to the issues that concern our culture. Here is truth: we are still commanded to live in peace and unity. We are called to love, regardless of views, regardless of theology, regardless of embarrassing mistakes we’ve made. What is antichrist more than any given erroneous theological view of an issue is the disunity that manifests when we discuss these things.

I am guilty of walking away, hands in air.

I am guilty of standing back and withholding my voice next time around.

I am guilty of labeling, pre-judging, and disengaging.

I am guilty of being a partaker in disunity and distrust of the Body of Christ.

I am guilty of being the wrong answer to Christ’s plea to the Father that we be unified, built brick upon brick, into a house of prayer for all nations.

This year, as I survey the state of the Church and ask myself how I can be the change, I am resolved to reconcile and to remain. To reconcile with those I have parted ways with over issues both small and large, and to remain in conversation with those who challenge me in uncomfortable ways.

I am learning there are people God puts in our lives specifically to shake up our certainty.

To make us think deeper. To turn our stony hearts to flesh. To resource our empathy and supplement our viewpoints. To send us to our knees with questions in our hearts.

I am thankful for the promise of the proverbs: “For though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.” And this year, I rise again to relationships, especially the hard ones, committed to staying, to hearing, and to being part of a whole. Our voices may never be in chorus together on every topic, but we are part of the same family, and that’s what matters most.

That’s what should be most obvious about any of our discussions. At the end of the day, after a good hard talk, we should go have a beer, or a coffee if you please.

What about you? How can you be the change you want to see in the Church?

[Photo: Pinti 1, Creative Commons]

About The Author

Christy is a blogger, designer and speaker covering the topics of Church and Culture. She lives in Austin, TX, with her husband Dan. Together they run a brand development firm called Thoughtful Revolution. They are passionate about humbly bringing change and inviting people to ask the questions Jesus came to answer. You can read her blog at ChristyMcFerren.com and order her book, First Steps Out, at FirstStepsOut.com.

  • http://www.cross-platform.org John Hanan

    This idea of unity in spite of the difference in opinion we have with other believers has been on my heart a lot lately. I can’t help but see the division amongst the Church and think of Satan cackling as his battle plan works. Glad to know I’m not the only one who feels the need to remain, even when it’s uncomfortable.

    • http://christymcferren.com/ Christy McFerren

      It’s a tall order, isn’t it, John? These words stand preaching before me still, even though I wrote them. Glad to hear your heart.

  • http://everydayawe.com/ Stephanie Spencer

    Yes, yes, a million times yes. I wrote about this very issue this week- our need as a Church to model what it means to love and respect those who have very different views than our own. I was inspired by the Living in the Tension group our church has started. Have you heard of them? They intentionally engage people in dialogue about faith and sexuality in an environment that is safe for all views on the subject. I am looking forward to participating in and facilitating these conversations.

    I wrote a post about how it had me dreaming for the future of the Church- that it would become a sacred place of listening: http://www.everydayawe.com/a-sacred-place-of-listening.

    Great post. Love to see people writing about this.

    • http://christymcferren.com/ Christy McFerren

      I love your article! I love this line: “Because in His final days on earth, this was Jesus’ prayer for us:
      that we would be one as He and the Father are One. Because, He prayed,
      through unity in the Church, the world would believe that He was sent by
      God and that they were loved by Him.” One of the first Bible studies I ever led was based on John 17. It’s very close to my heart and what Andrew Marin is doing is beautiful. Thanks for being part of the solution, and the answer to His prayer.

  • http://www.facebook.com/allison.vesterfelt.7 Ally Vesterfelt

    Christy — I love this. I am so guilty of quitting too soon, even in the relationships closest too me. Sometimes it just feels easier not to argue or to disengage than it does to argue with understanding and grace. Thank you for sharing from your heart.

    • http://christymcferren.com/ Christy McFerren

      Me too, Ally. I appreciate your help with this article, and in so many other things. I love walking this writing road with you guys.

  • http://sarachoe.com sara choe

    “The problem is that when all the words have been exchanged and viewpoints made unequivocally known, we so often throw our hands in the air and walk away, shaking our heads, incredulous at the notions others can embrace while calling themselves a Christ follower.”

    Christy, do you remember our lively exchange about welfare on Twitter? I hope you can look to that conversation as our small success in not walking away or thinking each other as less of a Christ follower based on the notions we embraced; I do.

    Thank you for this, sister I haven’t met in person but will for sure in the next, eternal, life. :)

    • http://christymcferren.com/ Christy McFerren

      Ha! Sara! Yes! I do remember… and smile. I often reflect on that moment as one of those rare instances when two people (who met in Twitterland of all places) can see things so completely differently and then still be friends. I am so blessed by that, because it’s so hard for people to do. Thanks for sticking around. I’ve loved learning about you and your life and your story.

  • http://www.spiritualglasses.me/ Jennifer Upton

    You have given me words today that I have been searching for in how to properly respond to a torn relationship I desire to see reconciled. I want to do my part. Love you more and more!

  • http://goinswriter.com/ Jeff Goins

    Amen. :)

  • InciteFaith

    The irony and timing of this post is uncanny. I just had a conversation with three people about this earlier in the week, it was a healthy discussion. We don’t all agree and I think this is the beauty of authentic community and the power of grace. Yes, we *are* family, all of us. We’re the body of Christ and to walk in unity together we have see past our differences, background, and see people less as a label but a Child of God. Seems pretty cliche’, right?

    Thing is, I can talk to a homosexual, an abuser, an addict, and any one with a battered past and still see the image of God. The likeness of Christ resides in everyone we encounter. If we understood this, how would we learn to treat people with whom we disagree?

    It’s easy to throw up our hands and give up, I’m guilty. And in this single moment when I’m ready to give up, I’m down on my knees asking God to forgive me. Because I’m not perfect and it breaks my heart how easily we give up on people. This is not love. This is not Jesus. Our hearts should be wrenched for the people He loves.

    This is the kind of Church I want to see.