By Brandon Smith
The epiphany occurred on an ugly couch in our ministry center””a couch that resembled one my grandmother had in her living room. I was leading our college students through the first verses of Philippians. As usual, the apostle Paul had begun his letter with a prayer:
“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best” (Philippians 1:9, 10).
Wait a minute. “What is best“””not “what is good” or “what is helpful.” We must be able to discern “what is best.” Paul deliberately chose that word, best, which implies there are good things and better things and there are, most definitely, the best things.
I looked at my college student friends and dropped the bomb: “What good things do we have in our lives that are keeping us from the best things?”
Silence.
A Struggle with Being Good
I have struggled with being good. On that harvest gold couch, I realized my history was a series of mile markers commemorating good things. Good childhood, good grades, and good jobs. Good campus ministry, good reputation, and good opportunities. But, in all my goodness, I had misplaced the biggest piece of the puzzle and, despite my good efforts, the picture of my life was incomplete.
For example, I hadn”t consistently read the Bible to nurture my relationship with God in years, only perused Scripture to prepare my next good lesson. I hadn”t really prayed in months, only looked up to the sky briefly to seek God”s help as I started my day. I hadn”t felt the real presence of God in my life in ages, only slightly hoped that he would be with me as I scurried from one good thing to the next.
I realized on that hideous couch that things were not right. I had forsaken a living, breathing relationship with God and demoted my wife and children to the minor leagues. The ministry I was leading had followed my example: always sacrificing the best things on the altar of the good things.
I had been blind to this reality for a long time. After all, it”s not as though I was doing bad things. That”s one of the quirks about sacrificing the best for the good, the good is so . . . well, good. Very rarely must we choose between good and bad. Almost daily, though, we must choose between good and best.
Since this epiphany on the ugly couch, I have identified three areas in my life where the conflict between good and best flares up.
My God
I was a hypocrite. Day in and day out, I encouraged college students to pursue a deeper relationship with their Maker. I longed for them to connect with God in a healthy union, complete with deep love, commitment, and communication. When students filled our ministry center, I fronted this type of relationship with God as the norm for me. I spoke loudly of God and prayed eloquently to him. I led countless students into the trenches to serve him and his people. Like the worst kind of Pharisee, I looked beautiful on the outside. On the inside, though, there was no life. Only the bones of a dead faith.
To further the lofty view of my personal piety, I enrolled in seminary classes and spent hours reading, writing, and learning amazingly spiritual things. Ironically, I was reading more about the Bible than reading the Bible itself. Good, but not the best.
I felt like one of the folks Jesus describes who will say: “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?” (Matthew 7:22). I imagined telling him, “Didn”t I deliver good sermons and lead good Bible studies? Wasn”t I a good campus minister, loving those crazy college students in your name? And have you seen my diplomas?”
Jesus responded plainly, “Yes, Brandon, you did many good things in my name. But the best thing never happened: I never knew you.” (See Matthew 7:21-23.)
These days, I strive to have a relationship with Christ that engages my heart and doesn”t just go through the motions. Bible reading and prayer have taken on a new dimension. When I sit down to read God”s Word, I don”t immediately flip to the passage I will be teaching this week or reading for my class (which I have dropped). Real communication with God, as in all relationships, is a two-way street. I don”t just talk at him; I listen for him. I ask God, “What would you have me read this morning from your Word?” And a funny thing happens when I listen for his answer””I hear it. And he directs me to the passage he wants me to read, knowing what I need to hear.
I attempt to retain this posture of humility throughout each day. God knows what is good for me and what is best. I long to hear him and respond. In doing so, I have found signs of life in my faith that had once been, in my estimation, suffocated by good things.
My Family
I felt as though I had done a fair job of keeping family above ministry. However, in attempting to provide more for my family, I unknowingly allowed a good thing to slip in and unseat what is best.
This may shock some readers, but a job in ministry does not bring in lots of coin. I have, over the years, dreamed up many ideas to keep food on the table. My last dream, though, grew legs. I started a small business that took off. I kept busy, and the money was good. Sacrificing Saturdays with my family, though, was not good.
Ten months in, I sold the company. I refused to allow this good thing to steal my best time from my family.
What does this look like for you? It could mean ending the premium cable package or foregoing the fall softball league. You could say “no” to the overtime this week. Or something else I did: drop the data package from your cell phone. Being constantly in touch with work or Facebook is a good thing, but not at the expense of an uninterrupted family dinner.
My Ministry
I lead a ministry to students at a public university. One demographic that does not need help keeping busy is college students. I realized, on the ugly couch, our ministry had played the wrong role in the drama. We were cast to play the part of Mary but learned Martha”s lines.
If you”ll recall, Jesus took a break from his travels and put his feet up in the home of Martha. Martha, pleased to play hostess to Jesus, busied herself with cooking, cleaning, filling glasses, and assuring her guest had all he needed. As Martha labored, her sister sat down and listened to Jesus tell stories. Mary completely forgot about, or ignored, all that needed to be done.
So, Martha did what most would have done: she complained. “Lord, don”t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (Luke 10:40).
Jesus” response to Martha cuts to the heart of all of us who struggle with being good. “Martha . . . you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better” (Luke 10:41, 42).
Mary has chosen what is better. Martha had not chosen what was bad; serving your guests and meeting the needs of those around you are good endeavors. However, these good acts of service were overthrowing that which was better: sitting and listening to Jesus.
Our ministry was serving students well. But, we were so busy doing this ministry for Jesus that we had no time left for being with Jesus, which clearly is better. I was setting up our students for that dreaded exchange: sacrificing what is best (sitting at Jesus” feet) for what is good (busyness in his name).
We now commit ourselves to avoiding that sacrifice. This means (gasp!) taking many good things off the calendar. We want to serve our neighbors and have fellowship gatherings in Jesus” name. We want more, though: we want to know this Jesus in whose name we operate. We give our students the tools to nurture a relationship with Christ on their own. We train them to study the Bible for themselves and to talk to and hear from God in prayer. We instruct them on being sensitive to the Holy Spirit”s leading and encouraging them to find balance.
Jesus warns not to allow the good things to replace the best things. Clearly, the best thing is to know him and be known by him. Once this is made a priority in our churches and ministries, the many good things will fall into their appropriate places.
Back to the Ugly Couch
As I write these final words, I go back to the ugly couch. The view from here is now different. I spent this morning with my God, absorbing his Word and hearing his voice. I pruned several good things from my life and am now free to pursue him as he leads me to the best things.
Find your ugly couch. Sit there and hear from God. Follow him as he leads you out of your busy schedule of good things and into a place of freedom to pursue his best.
Brandon Smith serves as campus minister with Christian Campus House, a campus ministry serving Northwest Missouri State University, Maryville.
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