The Rock Wall

On the day my son turned seven we were in a large sporting goods store getting gear for his soon to start baseball season. At the back of this particular store is a large rock-climbing wall, a wall that spans the entire two-story height of the building. Since each floor has very high warehouse ceilings, this is a tall wall. John wanted to climb it. He’s never climbed this particular wall before, but he’s been to plenty of birthday parties at “Atlanta Rocks.” He loves climbing these knobby contoured walls. So there in the store I paid for the climb and one of the store staffers helped John into his “harness.”

My son started making his way up the wall, and the higher he went the more I felt a kind of pride and delight welling up within myself. By the time he cleared the halfway point I was into it. From time to time he would pause and search for the next hand-hold, a place to put a foot, anything to hold on to. I would try to coach him. “Look to your left John” etc. Mostly I just encouraged him to keep climbing. I wanted him to make it to the top. And he did.

That picture of my son scaling the rock wall, making slow-but-sure progress, stopping to look for the next step – it’s stayed with me as a picture of what ministry is about. The words of Paul in 1 Thessalonians 2:11-12 capture the rock climbing nature of being a pastor. “For you know that we dealt with you as a father deals with his own children, encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God who calls you into his kingdom and glory.” Much of what I saw in John’s climb reflects life experience that most of us eventually encounter. Progress is slow. From time to time we need to stop and consider what’s next – look at options, assess where each option might take us. At times we’ve got a firm grip, at other moments we’re barely hanging on.

The good news is we don’t climb alone. We need people to help us, to offer some guidance and counsel, to tell us we’re not finished and that we can keep moving. Pastors get to do that. Parents and friends are also on the frontlines of this kind of work.

The rock wall experience took on an added dimension when John was finished with his climb and had been lowered back to the floor. Now it was my daughters turn. She’s five. She did fairly well, but after climbing the bottom third of the wall she decided she’d had enough. “I want to come down now” she said in a matter of fact tone. I kept coaching, urging her to reach for this or that knob, giving her the benefit of my superior vantage point on the floor. Anna responded to my exhortations by letting go of the wall. And there she dangled, swinging slightly back and forth. She was finished – but held firmly in place next to the wall by the belay.

Climbing the rock wall isn’t just about effort and progress. It’s also about grace. We all hit places on this climb where we decide we’ve had enough. We decide to stop. Sometimes, we slip. What we thought we could reach turns out to be beyond us. We can’t hold on. And at those moments God holds us firmly in place. We are anchored, even when we’re dangling.

I’d like to tell you that my daughter eventually reached the top of the wall. Not this time. But someday she will – and until then, and with every step, there’s always grace.