Taking the Risk

The world is divided into two kinds of people. Those who like cruises and those who don’t. Or to be more precise: those who think a cruise is a foretaste of heaven, and those who think a cruise is the aftertaste of hell.

The world is divided into two kinds of people. Those that suck the life out of every day, and those that let every day suck the life out of them.

The world is divided into two kinds of people. Pitchers and catchers.

The world is divided into two kinds of people. Those who take risks and those who play it safe.

Back when I was in the Army, the officers of the battalion would meet socially every few months for hail-and-farewells.  These gatherings involved greeting new officers and saying goodbye to those who were leaving the unit. But the most anticipated part of the evening was the FUBAR Award.  FUBAR stood for Fouled Up Beyond All Recognition.  Some hapless officer, usually (but not always) a lowly butter bar (Second Lieutenant) would be recognized/noted/honored for some recent performance-related action that totally screwed up the battalion’s mission.

And no, I never received a FUBAR while serving Uncle Sam.  I always played it safe, didn’t take any risks, operated under the radar, kept my head down.

Recently I read about a temp agency in Washington that offers a $100 bonus to the employee who makes the biggest mistake of the month. He doesn’t get a reprimand. He gets an extra $100.

And then there was an executive for a company called Sara Lee Direct who thought he was getting a great deal on a shipment of belts, so he acted quickly and bought a whole warehouse full. Only later did he discover that what he bought was not manufacturing belts for the conveyor system at the factory, but a bunch of those three-inch-wide paisley belts from the 1960s. But instead of getting fired, he was awarded a bronze plaque that proudly commemorated the event as the “Worst Buy of the Year.”

When I read these stories, I had two reactions. My first was: Are these businesses nuts? Have they gone crazy, or what? And then my second thought was that maybe I could talk the vestry into adopting a similar policy. Maybe there could be a bonus for the worst sermon of the month.

Seriously though, there’s a strategy behind rewarding mistakes. The president of that temporary help company explained it this way: “The object is to get people to take risks.” An official at Sara Lee Direct where the employee got promoted instead of fired for making that terrible purchase put it this way, “If you don’t go up to the plate and swing hard, you’re never going to hit a home run. If you’re not willing to make a mistake, you’re not really trying.”

The bottom-line is that risk-taking is the only road to success. And companies are finding that it’s worth rewarding a few mistakes along the way if it encourages their people to take the kind of risks that can bring huge rewards. And the same is true for people of faith.

How much faith does it take to follow? That’s the crux of the discussion between Jesus and Nicodemus. That’s what Jesus meant when he said you must be reborn. For birth is an inherently risky procedure, even today.

With that in mind, Jesus tells Nicodemus that being part of the kingdom of God requires the same. No one can be a follower of God unless he is willing to take a risk. No one can be part of the kingdom of God unless she is ready for commitment.

“You must be born again” is the way Jesus put it. You must take the risk to start again. For taking risks is the only way we grow — not only in business, but in our spiritual lives as well. Either we take a reasonable risk and expand the horizons of our life, or we become stagnant and, in the end, live a life of regret.

When people over the age of 95 were asked in a survey what changes they would make if they could live their lives over again, one of the responses they gave most often is that they would take more risks. It seems that at age 95 people are more willing to be born again.

But you don’t have to be 95 to look back on life and wish you’d been more of a risk-taker. Think back to high school days. Don’t you wish you had taken the risk to try out for the school play or the cheerleading squad or the football team? When you look back on some of your friendships, don’t you wish you’d taken the risk of being more honest and open with the people you love? Many of us can look back on businesses or investments or personal ventures and wish we’d hadn’t played it so safe at the time.

No one can go back to seize opportunities time has already snatched away. No one can live life again. But we can go forward. We can take the risk of trusting Jesus.

What is risk, anyway? Well, risk is simply the ability to stretch beyond the usual limits in reaching for a goal. Risk involves facing a fear, chancing failure. And risk always involves adventure.

The same can be said for living a life of faith. It’s when we face our fears and take a risk that we experience the thrill of following Jesus. But as long as you hold on to the old, as long as you are afraid to follow, as long as you are unwilling to risk your life for God, you will not be part of God’s great adventure.

And that adventure is all around us. For instance, when we follow God’s teachings on honesty despite the fear of the price it may cost us, that’s spiritual adventure. When we ask God to open doors for us to make a difference in the lives of others around us despite our fear of where that may lead us, that’s spiritual adventure. When we talk to someone about our faith, in spite of our fear of what they may think of us because of it, that’s spiritual adventure. When we think enough about God to want to be in church in spite of the inconvenience it may cause us, that’s spiritual adventure.

Those are the times when we leave the smooth, paved road, when we abandon the boring residential streets for the adventure of unmarked trails — that’s when faith becomes real and that’s the new birth that Jesus is promising us. Faith means being born again as a new person, leaving the comfortable behind to adventure with God.

For some, it will mean asking God to use us as a blessing in the lives of others, starting a conversation about values and faith. For some, it may mean that God has basic training in mind — time to get serious about Bible study and building a more solid foundation for our faith. It may mean setting aside some bad habit, or being more loving at home. It may mean coming to church while facing the fear of a virus that none of us had even heard of just a couple of months ago.

Yes, it’s a risky topic this morning, this question about how much faith it takes to follow. Because it really isn’t about how much faith we need to follow, but whether we’ll use the faith we have. For when we ask God to use us, God will bring us a new beginning. And God will give us a new birth.