I remember riding my first roller coaster like it was yesterday.
I was probably 11 or 12, visiting Six Flags with our youth group, and I had finally worked up the courage to get in line for The Scream Machine – the wooden roller coaster that was the focal point of the park in the late 70’s. My older brothers had ridden it, so naturally I wanted to do it, too. Standing in line, sweat dripping down my back, I watched group after group leave the station, climb the terrifying first hill, and then stop – frozen before the first drop. My heart pounded in my chest as we inched along. It was impossible to ignore the sounds around me: the rattle of the tracks, the squeal of the brakes, the screams of the riders. The closer I got to the front of the line, the more my mind raced with the question: “is this really safe?”
By the time I was buckled into my seat, gripping the lap bar for all it was worth, I was petrified. We lurched up the first hill, and I closed my eyes tight, praying I’d make it out of this alive.
Is going up this high really safe?
Two minutes later, we screeched back into the station with everyone indeed living, hoarse, and exhilarated. When I opened my eyes and realized that somehow I had survived, my love for roller coasters was born.
I’ve ridden the Scream Machine more times than I can count. Then came the Mind Bender, and eventually Space Mountain and Expedition Everest. In recent years, Universal’s Veloci-Coaster and Hagrid’s Motorbike Adventure have got me staying late at the parks. The thrill and excitement are just too good to pass up.
Even so, I still remember that first ride, and the question that nagged at me as I stood in line:
Is going up this high really safe?
To be fair, I think that most roller coasters are safe. But as I consider the state of the church these days, I have to wonder if we have taken our fascination with heights too far.
More and more churches are elevating their pastors. More and more pastors are intoxicated by the position and power they are given. More and more people line up to experience the excitement and “thrill” of a growing, dynamic church. More and more communities of faith are modeling their congregations after our society, longing for the attention of the spotlight, lusting for power. And while the dizzying heights may garner attention and numbers, they are also positioning our churches and pastors on a dangerous precipice.
It’s time to re-evaluate our obsession with heights.
When Jesus was taken to a high place – not once, but twice – He was offered a shortcut to power and position that bypassed the suffering of the cross.
But Jesus didn’t take the bait.
He saw clearly the source of the offer: the enemy.
He held resolute to His decision to follow only His Father’s path - not a shortcut.
And He resisted the temptation to circumvent the pain of the cross by choosing what was easy and gratifying.
He could’ve used His power to serve Himself - to call down the angels of Heaven in His time of need, to spare Himself suffering, or gain quicker results.
But that’s not what our Savior did.
Jesus used His power to lift the lowly. To heal the broken. To embrace those on the outside – everyone that their society considered “less than.” They were treated with dignity and were valued and truly seen by the most powerful and humble person to ever walk the planet.
He resisted the allure of heights and chose the lowly, gentle path of a servant, washing feet and laying down His life for outsiders.
And that’s what we must do.
We must model our lives and ministries after Jesus and stop taking shortcuts to garner attention and attract people – even shortcuts ostensibly to help them find Jesus. There is no “fast pass” in the Kingdom. And when the work of Jesus is done outside of the ways of Jesus, the fallout is far-reaching.
When the work of Jesus is done outside of the ways of Jesus, the fallout is far-reaching.
Spoiler alert: not everyone – or everyone’s faith – survives. In fact, the damage can be devastating.
The question I find myself coming back to these days is this: if Jesus Himself had the option to take a shortcut that would mean less suffering and quicker results, but flatly denied it – shouldn’t we?
Heartbreak after heartbreak at the hands of the church would tell us that elevating people isn’t working. We must resist the draw to elevate ourselves or our pastors - or any person.
There is only ONE who can handle that kind of elevation, position, and power. And He laid it all down to serve the rest of us.
May it be so in our churches and our lives, as well.