Monday, October 09, 2006

Broken Bootstraps

Psalm 49:1-7, 13-15
"Listen, everyone, listen—earth-dwellers, don’t miss this. All you haves and have-nots, all together now: listen. I set plainspoken wisdom before you, my heart-seasoned understandings of life. I fine-tuned my ear to the sayings of the wise, I solve life’s riddle with the help of a harp. So why should I fear in bad times, hemmed in by enemy malice, shoved around by bullies, demeaned by the arrogant rich? Really! There’s no such thing as self-rescue, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. This is what happens to those who live for the moment, who only look out for themselves: Death herds them like sheep straight to hell; they disappear down the gullet of the grave; they waste away to nothing—nothing left but a marker in a cemetery. But me? God snatches me from the clutch of death, He reaches down and grabs me."

I recently inherited a pair of hand-me-down workboots. They were well worn, but had a lot of life in them yet. I grabbed a tin of mink oil and sat on the couch, rubbing the gel-like oil into the leather, reconditioning them and waterproofing them at the same time. It was honestly delightful watching the dry leather become moist and supple once again.

I love a good pair of workboots. The few times in my life when I've truly needed workboots, I have enjoyed them a great deal. There is something very satisfying about sitting on a chair in an old pair of jeans, and pulling your boots on and then lacing them up snugly, ready for the day of physicality before you. You will trod upon mud, and dust, and rocks, and whatever the worksite throws your way, but your workboots will protect you. There is a tremendous sense of the world being right when you're sitting there with a canister of mink oil, rubbing it into the leather of your boots to treat them for the elements. You can see it soaking in and you know that it will protect your feet from becoming wet. It feels good to slip your finger into the loop of your bootstrap and pull your boot onto your foot.

My bootstraps are well worn. I've learned to use them. "Quit your crying or I'll give you something to cry about" was my mantra for many years. I learned to be independent. I learned self-reliance. When the going gets tough, I'm one of the ones who will get going. Because all I really need to know I learned from pulling myself up by my bootstraps enough times.

This is America, the land of the free. Keyword: free. Independent. Not dependent on anyone or anything, or so we're taught. We're taught that life is only what YOU make of IT. In all of these teachings of self-reliance and self-empowerment, it is at least inferred, if not blatantly taught that we are in control of our lives. We have the answers to the questions. We have the solutions to the problems. We are in control of our destinies.

{imagine the sound of a needle being pulled off the record...or for those of you too young to know what this sound is, imagine the sound of your tape being eaten by your stereo}

If you believe that you are in control of your destiny, I have just one question for you: what color are your boots in the world you live in?

Control, in the sense that we perceive to have it, is an illusion. We have moments of control. There are some elements in our lives over which we do exercise some control. But there are simply too many variables at all times existing around us for us to ever truly be in control. It's simply an impossibility. And yet we don't know how to let go of it! This is about the hardest thing for me to do: let go of control. Why? Because I know the answers to the questions and the solutions to the problems.

{BZZZZzzzz...}

"Thank you for playing!" Who will be our next contestant in this game of life? The truth is, I don't know the answers to the questions, nor the solutions to the problems. Because my scope of vision is so very limited. I can only know partial answers to the questions as I perceive them. I can only grasp at simple solutions to problems more complex than I can ever know because of this limit on my vision.

And so I grasp at straws. I grasp at answers. I grasp at solutions. I grasp my bootstraps and I give them a yank and I try to pull myself out of the muck and the mire of my existence and you know what? Sometimes it works. Sometimes, I'm able to pull myself up. In fact, I've done this a lot. But I've looked down at my bootstraps and I've noticed they've become worn. In fact, it looks like they're about to rip through pretty soon. One of these times, I'm going to reach for my bootstraps and I know they're going to come off in my fingers. I will be left standing there with my boots half-on and my bootstraps in my hands and a look of bewilderment on my face. Because then I will truly realize how OUT of control I really am. With nothing left to pull, I can only grasp at something else.

And in a moment like that, I will truly realize my need for God.

Because God doesn't grasp for bootstraps. God grasps for our very being. He doesn't mess around with that which we have adorned ourselves. He reaches for our souls. God rescues us from the muck and the mire of our existence. God pulls us up, not by our bootstraps, but by our souls and He sets us upon the Rock of Jesus Christ, His Son.

These boots we've put on can only protect us from some very minor threats. And the straps which we grab to pull ourselves up can only work so many times before tearing off in our hands, leaving us grasping for control and finding none.

The only real, true protection we have can be found in Jesus. In no one, no where, and in nothing else will we find this protection or the answers to the questions, the solutions to the problems, the deliverance from the attacks of the Enemy.

Your boots may protect from some of the small things in life, but they can never protect from the wiles of the Enemy we face, nor can your bootstraps save you from the attacks this Enemy of ours will throw our way.

Are you still relying on your bootstraps? Are you still carefully rubbing mink oil in them to keep them supple and strong...ready for the time when you'll need them to pull yourself up by?

My friends, go get a pair of scissors right now, and lean down with me and join me in cutting off our bootstraps. In doing so, we'll have nothing left to grasp, but the very hand of Jesus...Who will reach down, and "snatch us from the clutch of death." Let's not be those who look out and live for themselves. We know their ending. And we know the ending we're promised in Jesus: a New Life.

Cut off your bootstraps. Surrender control…it’s an illusion anyway. But Jesus is no illusion. He’s real. He’s in control whether you acknowledge it or not. Stop fighting Him. Instead, surrender…trust Him.

Be WILD For Christ!

Pastor Shane

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