Get Them to the Stream
My son, give me your heart, and let your eyes observe my ways. -Proverbs 23:26
Exhausted after a long day of trekking through the muddy terrain, General McLeaderpants comes to a small stream. He has a company of men following his every move. If he goes left, they go left. If he scratches his arm pit, they scratch their arm pit. Coming to this stream the thirsty leader drops a knee to the earth, cups his hands and takes a drink from the stream. It’s cold, refreshing, and pure. After satisfying his thirst, he pulls himself up and proceeds to march through the stream with his muddy boots.
The guy after him, as expected, drops a knee to the earth, cups his hands and takes a drink from a now slightly less pure source of water. By the time we get to the dude in the back, the once crystal-clear stream is now a rather murky color.
Now, I realize that as streams go some of that muddy water is likely a little further downstream and not quite as bad as one might imagine. But I couldn’t very well make it a puddle—nobody drinks from a puddle. So, you’ll have to suspend a little of your scientific accuracy here to catch this analogy. And don’t blame me, blame a 6th century pope—Pope Gregory. In his Pastoral Rule, which is phenomenal, he shares this illustration from Ezekiel 34:18-19:
For indeed the shepherds drink most pure water, when with a right understanding they imbibe the streams of truth. But to foul the same water with their feet is to corrupt the studies of holy meditation by evil living. And verily the sheep drink the water fouled by their feet, when any of those subject to them follow not the words which they hear, but only imitate the bad examples which they see. Thirsting for the things said, but perverted by the works observed, they take in mud with their draughts, as from polluted fountains. [1]
As a pastor this is a striking image for me. It hits me because I know what he is talking about with these pure streams. There are times in study when you can feel and sense this direct communion with the Lord. The text is coming alive. It’s convicting or nourishing my own heart. It truly is like drinking from a cold spring.
And I also know what it’s like to have taken such a beautiful thing and then stomped my own muddy boots through the water. It feels like that some Sunday’s when I’ve drank something so sweet and refreshing and then the delivery to the people seems far more mediated than I’d like. It feels like giving them water I’ve muddied up instead of the cool and refreshing drink from Christ.
Gregroy is talking here about muddying things up with our life-style, though. That our lifestyle may not match up to our words. I feel this one too. I know the importance of things like community and life groups and gathering with other believers deeply. And I also know the complications of some of those things for our family. It can feel like I’m pulling down by example, what I’ve just said by words.
I think here too of parenting. And I find Proverbs 23:26 particularly interesting. Here Solomon, I think it’s Solomon, says “My son, give me your heart, and let your eyes observe my ways”. Then he starts talking about prostitutes and adultery. And I think we’re supposed to say at this point that he’s done a good job of avoiding these things. But we know the whole story and we see the snare there for Solomon. He polluted the stream with muddy boots.
What I’m attempting to say here is that it’s a scary thing to say, “My son, give me your heart…” But that is what we do as parents. It’s what we do as pastors. It’s what we do as disciple-makers, Sunday school teachers, and really any time we are in the position of General McLeaderpants. When people follow us we’re essentially saying, “give me your heart”. And if we do that without fear and trembling, we’re fools who haven’t realized what it means to have a heart in your hands.
My only refuge is that God is bigger than my fumbling hands. And my job as a pastor, as a daddy, as a disciple-maker, is to point people to Jesus. It’s not to point them to my own sufficiency. And here we can go back to how that analogy doesn’t exactly work because of the nature of streams and say that it exactly does work because of the nature of streams. That is how the church can survive—the stream is more powerful than my muddy boot. It keeps flowing and cleansing and dispersing out all of my foibles, follies, and even foolish rebellion. And that’s how people can drink after someone so fallen as myself.
It’s about getting them to the stream.
Yeah, don’t muddy it with your boots. Do everything you can to keep that water pure for the people behind you. Keep that stream uncontaminated by my own sinfulness and foolishness as much as possible. But also keep in mind that the stream is much greater than my weakness. It’ll refresh. Just get them to the stream.
[1] Gregory the Great, “The Book of Pastoral Rule of Saint Gregory the Great, Roman Pontiff, to John, Bishop of the City of Ravenna,” in Leo the Great, Gregory the Great, ed. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, trans. James Barmby, vol. 12b, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1895), 2.
That’s beautiful. What an awesome picture I will keep and remember. Lead them to the Stream.