*You can read the previous post here.
At one point in our church journey, we invited our Sudanese neighbors—Nadia and Aketch—to visit a church plant near our low-income neighborhood. Nadia and Aketch were close in age to our own kids and melded into our lives like family. Only thirteen years old at the time, Nadia stood a slender, eye-catching six feet tall. She’d spent most of her young life trying to blend into her predominantly white community while her little brother, Aketch, sought attention by acting out and eventually getting kicked out of school for throwing a chair at a teacher. On this particular Sunday, Nadia and Aketch just wanted to spend time with our family while their weary single mother slept at home. But when we walked through the front door of this new church, they were descended upon by a troop of eager, white greeters. Oblivious to Nadia and Aketch’s closed body-language and frigid silence, these greeters battered and flattered them with one question after another. Our family, also new, stood awkwardly in the foyer as greeters engulfed our friends in a flood of words and left us out to dry. When we all finally escaped to the main sanctuary, another set of greeters singled out Nadia and Aketch for a hearty handshake and a compliment. Then we sat down in the back pew and listened to a sermon about how white people need to move into black neighborhoods to be the “hands and feet of Jesus.” Nadia and Aketch slumped low in the pew, trying to disappear into the background. Whether out of ignorance or self-righteous pride, these congregants failed to see how their attempts to prove themselves not racist did more harm than good. The over-the-top virtue-signaling came across kingdom-of-self, not kingdom-of-God.
Counselor and author David Powlison describes our little human kingdoms as “ladders to nowhere”[1] erected by our prideful hearts. In our fifteen years’ journey through the dark side of the American church, we’ve encountered leaders and congregants building “ladders to nowhere” on social justice, missions, inner-city ministry, a specific neighborhood, artistic expression, worship music and other created things. Powlison says, “Pride sets up these ladders and climbs on high . . . . Haughty eyes look down on anyone below you on the particular ladders you most cherish. Those particular ladders from which you gaze down in disdain are your precious and proud aspirations. You feel envy or despair when anyone else rises or threatens to rise above you.” Spotting the “ladders to nowhere” being built by public leaders and false shepherds isn’t all that difficult from the view in the pews. But false shepherds aren’t the only ones who build “ladders to nowhere.” The question we all must ask is “What is my ladder to nowhere?” What kingdom, other than Christ’s, are you tempted to build your life on?” Our hearts tend to be attracted to churches and leaders dangling off ladders similar to our own.
Identifying the ladder(s) we climb is the first step to descending into humility and rest for our souls. Instead of frantically scrambling around trying to prove our significance in our own eyes or the eyes of others, we can rest in knowing we belong to Jesus. We are beloved, chosen, holy, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, because we belong to him. Jesus, “never climbed ladders to nowhere. He’s the iconoclast, the ladder-toppler, the idol-breaker, the lie-piercer, the pride-smasher, the eyes-lowerer, the mouth-stopper. He gives life, makes peace, gives joy” (8)[2].
Churches filled with leaders and congregants climbing ladders to nowhere eventually topple and fall into a heap of bitter brokenness. Churches rooted and grounded in belonging to Jesus and making his kingdom great become ladder-toppling, idol-breaking, lie-piercing, pride-smashing, forces for good in a broken world.
Reflection
- Can you identify your own particular “ladders to nowhere”? What good things–missions, music, foster care, etc.–are you tempted to place your identity and hope in?
- How might Jesus be using your suffering at the hands of false shepherds to help you topple your own particular “ladders to nowhere”?
You can read other posts in this series here.
[1] Powlison, David. “Peace, be Still: Learning Psalm 131 by Heart.” The Journal of Biblical Counseling. 18.3: Spring, 2000.
[2] Powlison, David. “Peace, be Still: Learning Psalm 131 by Heart.” The Journal of Biblical Counseling. 18.3: Spring, 2000.
Pursued 