scaffolding

I don’t typically like change. I guess you could say I’m a sentimental sap to the core. I much prefer “the original” over the “upgraded” version. But alas, over the years, I have given in to the new fangled toys, giving up on my "originals" that may be broken, or in some cases, just aren't as spectacular as they once were.

I’ve heard plenty of rants about how we as Americans always want more, and are always looking for better - that we’ll tear apart perfectly good highways in order to have one that allows more traffic. Often times, instead of fixing something, we will just replace it… It’s just easier to replace, than to fix what’s broken – especially when it has the potential of breaking again, right? And sometimes, we just want what's new and shiny. We’ll get rid of our sedans and opt for the bigger SUV which of course, is the car of Americans. (Note sarcasm. *wink*) But I think we bypass the beauty in restoring what is "old" with this idea of getting “bigger and better”

I live in an area of the country where construction abounds… Maybe it’s like that everywhere in the U.S. It seems that everywhere there is some road, some bridge, or some building under construction. I work in the city, and so every day I take detours to avoid such construction. However, there is this one building that I pass on a regular basis. The entire building is encased in scaffolding, and when I say entire, I mean ENTIRE building. There doesn’t seem to be one piece of the building’s edifice that doesn’t have scaffolding attached to its side. I took a picture of it, which unfortunately didn’t turn out… Hopefully, I’ll have one for you soon because it’s absolutely amazing! Typically, I wouldn’t be drawn to this sort of spectacle. I mean, it’s just some old building being restored, right? However, this building is huge and is visible from many different parts in the city – it’s hard to miss. And I’ve come to LOVE this building. Any time I drive anywhere near it, I come close to a collision because I’m simply fascinated with this idea of restoration – the idea of updating the building, restoring its original beauty. During my moments of awe and near-collision, I began to think about the scaffolding. While I've come to think it looks pretty cool, to most, it makes the building look really ugly. However, I realized that it serves as a visual for the building’s future. It may look ugly for the moment, but it’s in the middle of an overhaul, about to be completely revitalized.

This thought moved me a step further. I have been writing a great deal about the church lately. I know, I know… You’re all probably pretty sick of hearing my “woes” about the church. But this is somewhat a continuation of my thoughts on authenticity. As I began to search where my hurt and disgruntled demeanor towards the church stems from, I realized that it’s due to the fact that I don’t believe God’s children have mastered the art of being authentic. The Scriptures provide us with all the ways in which we should live, and to be honest, it can be a little daunting. But instead of saying, “Hey, I don’t really measure up,” we try to mask it with the “I’ve got it all together” façade. I think we’ve become so good at trying to look already restored that we ignore our scaffolding. Plus, it’s ugly… who wants to proudly display it?

We are in a constant state of being renewed and restored – just like the building I drive past regularly. We don’t have it all together. We have scaffolding strapped to both sides, and are in the process of being renewed by our creator. We are being stripped of the old, the destructive, and all that is unwanted. We are being given back that which is missing. And yet, we try to hide the fact that we're there... that we are broken, and in need of restoration. We put sheets over the scaffolding and hide the ladders. We cover up the parts that are currently being worked on, and emphasize the parts that maybe don’t need as much work.

What would happen if we embraced it? What would happen if, like that building, we could be seen, flaws and all, by everyone – Christians and non-Christians alike? What happens if we were willing to restore the brokenness, even if we knew we might once again somewhere down the road be in the same mess all over again? What would the church look like if we allowed ourselves to be seen as a work in process?

Maybe if we were able to let the sheets fall, we might be able to be renewed together.