A different look at "Monuments"

What was this ship made to do?

Mark and his family signed up for a one day cruise on an old sailing ship in the Mediterranean. They had read every book they could find on what it was like on these old ships. They had looked at countless websites and Internet images of the ship. They could hardly wait for their adventure.

Now in their reading, they had learned that the ship normally traveled through the sea on its gas powered motors. There simply was not enough wind. But the adventure company did what they could to give you a feel for what it was like on the giant ship. Once you were well out to sea, the captain would give the orders and they would unfurl all the sails. Then the crew would load all the passengers into the little dinghy and put around so that the passengers could see the ship in all its glory. Everyone would take dozens of pictures of the ship. I'm sure it would be beautiful to behold.

Mark and his family found themselves on board the mighty ship and they launched from the harbor. About an hour out to sea, right about the time that they were expecting the captain to tell them to head for the dinghy, they noticed that the wind was picking up. The captain started shouting orders to his crew. The deck hands started scrambling around untying lines, unfurling the sails, tying things down.

The wind continued to pick up and as Mark looked up, the sails sprang full and almost catapulted the giant ship forward. The waves raced by as the ship was set free to sail like it hadn't in years. This mighty vessel was finally doing what it was made to do.

Mark looked back and was amazed to see the change that had come over the captain. There was a look of intensity matched only by a sense of deep joy on his face.

This captain, and his crew, didn't train for the mundane task of tourist travel. Their gifting and their passion surely was never tapped by the repetitive work of putting on a good show for the paying customers. But suddenly the captain and crew found themselves doing the thing they were trained for. The ship and its crew, charging full speed ahead and loving every minute of it.

I fear that those magnificent cathedrals of Europe (and perhaps in the not so distant future - the expansive, and expensive church buildings of America) have become mighty ships that people put around and take pictures of. They have long since ceased to do what they were made to do.

What would it look like for the church to do what it was made to do?
What would it look like if the crew (note - that's YOU, not the staff) found themselves doing the work they were made to do?
What would it be like if participating in the life of the church gave us an intensity that was matched only by the deepest joy?

We were made to sail.

"May they see your good works and glorify the Father in heaven."