Tim Clark’s Blog

The other day I had an honest conversation with a dear friend of mine. It was good—I was challenged in just the right places to think through some of my assumptions. I left without taking any offence whatsoever; if anything, I was encouraged to grow to be a better leader.

A few hours later he sent me an email asking my forgiveness for pressing so hard. While I honestly felt that there was nothing to forgive, I thought his response to his conscience was fantastic. Too often we feel what might be the conviction of the Holy Spirit, and we blow it off. We do this for many reasons, but one of the chief ones is that we think people will think we are just being overly sensitive.

Our biblical friend David faced a situation in which his conscience-sensitivity did not match that of his friends. In 1 Samuel 24, when David fell into a perfect opportunity to kill Saul (who, by the way, was trying to kill David), his men egged him on to do it. Instead of killing him, David secretly cut off a corner of his robe.

It seemed that David had every right to preemptively defend himself against Saul, and that taking a little souvenir was harmless. But he was conscience-stricken for doing even that and he subsequently rebuked his men for their insensitivity… then he went on to essentially expose his life before Saul.

I’m not sure his men ever understood why he did that, but this episode was just one in a life long series of events where David displayed a sensitive and soft heart before God.

Usually our sensitivity isn’t to the Lord, however, it is to our pride and our flesh.

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a young man who feels called to leadership and he was sharing how he had felt wounded by something a more mature pastor had told him. As we unpacked the cause of this pain, it turned out that a godly elder had delivered a very appropriate word of loving correction and rebuke. But the young man was offended and hurt. He was more focused on his pride and flesh than he was on the opportunity to be trained and developed. I told him that unless that changed in his life, there was no healthy pathway to leadership available to him.

My refrain to developing leaders is this: “learn to develop a soft heart and a tough skin”. A soft heart maintains sensitivity to respond to the correction of the Spirit and of others. A tough skin doesn’t allow every instance of criticism by others—whether appropriate, misguided, or, more usually, somewhere in between—to destroy you.

It may be embarrassing to admit fault or receive correction, but it’s even more damaging to become insensitive to the Lord. On the other hand, if we cultivate sensitivity to our own pride, that will eventually take us down.

So let’s remember to be sensitive to the right things.

The story found in the first few chapters of 1 Samuel both encourages me and makes me ill every time I read it.

I’m encouraged because what happens to young Samuel has many parallels to my hopes and prayers for my own kids:

I pray that my children would “grow up in the presence of the Lord” (2:21); that they would “continue to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with men” (2:26); that they would learn to clearly hear and respond to the Lord’s voice (3:1-14); that they would become individuals who are known by God’s presence—that He would “let none of [their] words fall to the ground” (3:19) and, that God would continue to reveal Himself to them through His Word (3:21).

This story also makes me sick, however, because of what I see in Eli:

Here is a Priest of Israel who is not raising his children well. His boys, who Eli has installed into ministry, have no regard for the Lord. They are stealing from the offerings and sleeping with the women who serve at the tabernacle.

We know that Eli is aware of the grievous sins in which his sons are engaging, and that he fails to restrain them. The sons, in fact, end up championing the worst religion has to offer—they are leaders who know how to run the religious machine but who are totally in it for themselves, and worse, who do not even know the Lord.

As a pastor who is raising three kids I want my children to look like Samuel, not like Hophni & Phinehas.

I understand if I want them to reflect Samuel I must teach them to be ready to hear the Lord speak to them and train them to obediently respond to the revelation that comes through God’s word.

But how do I keep them from acting like Eli’s sons?

I’m not really sure.

As I read the story this last time, however, I saw something I hadn’t noticed before. It seems, like most parents, Eli cared about his kids (2:23-25 & 29), but I think He cared about the Ark of the Covenant even more.

It is telling that when both the Ark and his sons go off to battle that Eli sits at the side of the road worrying about the Ark…and the news that came regarding the death of his kids didn’t kill him, but the capture of the Ark did.

It turns out that the Ark would be OK (as we discover in chapters 5 and 6 God takes care of the Ark better than Eli could). But twice leading up to that event God castigates Eli for not raising his children right and for getting his priorities all mixed up.

It looks like he had religion (the Ark) first, his sons second, and God dead last.

In other words, he was enticed to sacrifice his family on the altar of ministry and leave God standing on the sidelines.

Why do I get the feeling that if Eli would have paid better attention to the Lord and taken responsibility to raise his kids, that the function he carried out as priest would have been much healthier, too?

I’m not suggesting that we can guarantee our kids will turn out righteous—each person makes their own choices in life. But I do think that putting ‘ministry’ (religion) above both God and family is always a disaster in the making, and that wrong priorities ultimately undercut the very thing that should be most important to us.

Are you excited?

I mean, like when-you-were-a-kid-and-you-knew-you-were-going-to-Disneyland-the-next-day excited?

About 2,000 years ago Jesus’ disciples were not excited. They were sad. Really sad. They were sitting in a house together with the doors locked wondering what had just happened.

But we have the benefit of 20/20 hindsight.

Tomorrow morning, Jesus is risen…INDEED!

Everything changes, indeed!

My sins are indeed forgiven, indeed!

I have entry into an eternal family and Kingdom, indeed!

Death has been defeated and I have no fear of it, indeed!

The power of the brokenness that has effected our world is broken, indeed!

Eternal life, indeed!

Of course I can’t sleep tonight…

INDEED!!!