Castles

Confession time.  Deep, deep inside me is a secret desire.  This desire motivates most of the things I do, almost every single day.  It dictates who I am (or who I act like) most of the time, and it directly influences how I treat my friends and family and the people I work and live with.  This desire is also responsible for most moments of unrest and uncertainty in my life, and it has wrought a lot more harm than good within my soul.  Just like Jesus said it would.

Obviously, I’m talking about my life-long yearning to live in a freaking awesome castle.  I’ve got it all planned out.  I’ll earn money, make friends, stockpile knowledge and get a few defensive tools.  Everything I buy goes in the castle.  Everything I make goes in the castle.  Everything I learn goes in the castle.  Everything (and everyone!) I love goes in the castle.  As I build up my wealth of things and people and ideas and experiences, I’ll put up some walls.  And probably a moat.  And my castle will be sitting on a beautiful hill.  And it will definitely have those little windows that you can stick a bow-and-arrow through, to shoot at intruders.  And it will have a good carriage out front.  And nobody can get in except those I want to.  And I’ll be able to leave whenever I want to go help people or visit my friend’s castles or do other important things, but I’ll always have a safe, comfortable, warm, beautiful place to return to at the end of the night.  It will be mine, and it will be awesome.

And while castles are really, really great (I mean…come on! They’re castles! ), I wonder if they can also be really dangerous.  I know that when I focus on building my castle, I’m not focused on building communities.  Or churches.  Or gardens.  Or theaters.  Or soup kitchens.  I mean, on my better days I try to help build those things too, but only as much as I can without endangering the welfare of my personal castle.  I have this idea that in order to help people and do what Jesus wants me to do in this world, I need to have myself squared away.  I need to have my life in order before I worry about others.  This is a logical way to think.  It makes sense, and it’s responsible.  It has led to the success of many, many great people in the past.  But it can also be crippling.  Because we really like comfort, and I know that when I’m worrying about myself I’m not worrying about others.

I wonder what would happen if I tried building a community instead of a castle.  I would probably have less stuff, and that would probably be a pain in the butt sometimes.  I would probably be more dependent on other people, and that would probably be humiliating (or at least humbling) sometimes.  There’d probably be a lot more awkward moments, and there would definitely be more eye-rolls and difficulties.  I would definitely not be as efficient, and I definitely wouldn’t be as comfortable.  But I wouldn’t be as alone, either.  I would be forced to be more intentional with my time, and energy.  And I would have to try loving everybody, instead of just those I want to allow into my castle.

I guess that the kind of community Jesus is creating is one without walls.  Without moats or arrow-shooting holes in the wall or locks on the door.  And that kind of community is really scary to me, because some thief could just walk in the door and take what is mine.  Some crazy homeless man could just come and hurt me or my loved ones.  Somebody who is bigger and smarter and better looking than I am could just ride in on his white horse and stage a coup for the hearts of all my friends and loved ones and associates, leaving me in the dust with nothing.  But if I really believe what Jesus says, I can’t get hung up on that stuff.  Because like he says, the kind of stuff that really matters isn’t the kind you can put in a castle and protect with walls.  I think my life would be a lot better if I acted like I believed that, instead of saying I believed it and continuing to build my walls and moats and castle, just in case.  Lord, tear down my castle!

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