Paying The Cost To Be The Boss

Many years ago B.B. King recorded a song that would become a blues classic with its recurring refrain, “As long as I’m paying the bills, I’m paying the cost to be the boss.” Perhaps more accurately than any other song, “Paying the Cost” expresses a widely held sentiment in our society that by “paying the bills” one earns the right to be the boss.

It’s not difficult to comprehend the logic behind such a declaration, nor to be persuaded by it, for in many areas of our lives this is a very tangible reality. Moreover, many of us have experienced times when no clear decision-making structure was in place and an entire organization suffered because of a power struggle. Given the necessity of strong, decisive leadership and the ease of organizing along the lines of ability to “pay the bills,” many of us have grown quite comfortable with this approach to life.

Sometimes outcomes resulting from this approach to leadership are ideal. Unfortunately, however, we don’t have to look far to recognize the difficulties of such a philosophy. All too easily this organizational principle can become a fortress behind which abusive behavior is protected. A working spouse can oppress a stay-at-home spouse because he or she doesn’t work hard to pay the bills. A parent can manipulate children into all kinds of unhealthy or even inappropriate behavior by pointing to his or her bill-paying ability. A boss can coerce employees into compromising actions because as boss he or she is ultimately responsible for the success or failure of the company, not the lowly employee. A member of an organization can even try to force that organization’s leadership to submit to his or her agenda by threatening to withhold funds necessary for the organization’s financial stability.

Sadly these abuses are all too common among people who claim to follow Jesus. May God have mercy on us and forgive us for all the times we’ve tried to seize power. May we look to Christ to lead us into lives of service. And may the Holy Spirit teach us and shape us along the way.

Amen

For a few brief moments, it was as if time were standing still. It was lunchtime Thursday, and I was trying to catch up with a few more people before leaving Abilene to journey back to Hohenwald after my trip to ACU’s Summit. I was excited to catch up with an old friend and to hear about the changes that are just around the corner for him and his family. I was excited to share with him stories of friendships developed in my new surroundings. Perhaps most of all, I was excited we were going to be able to share one more fantastic meal at Harold’s Pit Bar-B-Q.

But it wasn’t the smell of the mesquite-smoked beef brisket as we walked through the door that seemed to cause time to stand still. Rather, it was the sound of owner Harold Christian’s voice stopping all conversations in their tracks by inviting everyone in the room to join him in a song and launching into the familiar refrain of the gospel spiritual, “Amen.”

Harold and Drucilla Christian

For a few moments, in the unlikeliest of places, it was as if we were standing on holy ground. The line stopped moving. Customers set their sandwiches down. Conversations ceased.

Sure there were some who didn’t sing along. Sure there were no conversion experiences. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that, for a moment, in that most ordinary place and time, Harold shared his faith, his foundation, with all who would listen in the way most natural for him: by using the beautiful, baritone voice God gave him.

Most of us aren’t going to interrupt a crowded restaurant by launching into songs. Indeed, most of us shouldn’t; God hasn’t placed us in a position like Harold’s or gifted us with that kind of voice. But Harold’s ability to allow his faith to permeate everything he does and to keep him grounded, even if it means sacrificing efficiency during the lunch rush, is an excellent example for us all. It is a picture of what it means to do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Here's a video of the scene that day.

The Silence of God

I’ll never forget the firestorm of controversy among many of my well-meaning Christian friends when Garth Brooks released his chart-topping single, “Unanswered Prayers.” “How could he say such a thing?” they asked. “Doesn’t he know there is no such thing as an unanswered prayer? Sometimes God just says, ‘No!’ I can’t believe he’d suggest God just doesn’t answer.”

It’s amazing how sometimes we’re so anxious to correct someone’s theology that we completely miss the point of what he or she is saying. Because the truth of the matter is, “Unanswered Prayers” was not intended to be a theological argument that God doesn’t answer prayers. Instead, the notion of unanswered prayers is reflective of the feelings so many have had at one time or another in life. We’ve asked and nothing’s been given to us. We’ve sought and we’ve found nothing. We’ve knocked and the door hasn’t been opened. It feels as though all we’ve been given by God is the silent treatment. These are the deep-down heart cries of one who feels (or felt) wronged by God.

The unfortunate truth is many of us are just as uncomfortable with cries of protest to God as we are the notion of unanswered prayers. In spite of the fact scripture is full of examples of people protesting what they feel are wrongs committed by God, we find ourselves jumping to God’s defense, as if God needs a defense team of amateur lawyers.

I wonder what might happen if instead of attempting to correct the finer points of another’s theology or jumping to God’s defense, we instead allowed ourselves to be vulnerable and share our own doubts. What if we shocked the world by acknowledging that sometimes all we experience in response to prayer is the silence of God? What if we told them of a man after God’s own heart who felt abandoned by God, or the Word made flesh who felt forsaken by God, or a suffering apostle who felt neglected by God? Could it be that opportunities for argumentation might be transformed into opportunities for spiritual friendship? Could it be that situations with the potential for conflict might be transformed into situations with the potential for conversion? Could it be that chances to correct others might be transformed into chances to love others? Could it be that the greatest opportunities for ministry occur in the face of the experience of the silence of God?

Here's a video of the song that inspired these reflections: "The Silence of God" by Andrew Peterson.

What experience have you had with the silence of God?