“So if you have been raised with Christ, seek
the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.
Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for
you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”
- Colossians 3:1-3
In
a corner by the bleachers of my middle school’s gym, there was a thick, heavy rope
hanging from the rafters, its end dangling inches above the floor. You couldn’t
miss it when you walked in the gym, so when my classmates and I got to gym
class on the first day of school, it didn’t take long for someone to ask the
coach about it. Smiling, he explained that we would be having a contest at the
end of the year—anyone who could climb all the way up that rope would win a
special prize.
We
got used to seeing the rope as the year went on, and it just sort of blended
into the background, no more notable than the paint on the walls. Until, that
is, the week before final exams, when the floor around it was suddenly covered
with soft mats stacked three feet high. The time had come, we realized—the
contest was about to begin.
Some
kids, the ones going out for football in the fall, pulled themselves to the top
with relative ease, sliding down and high fiving their buddies when their feet
hit the ground. Others barely even attempted to get off the floor, resigned to
the knowledge that they were not up to this kind of physical challenge. I was
somewhere in between—a good climber but not very strong. I didn’t know what to
expect as I made my way up the rope.
What
surprised me as I ascended halfway up the rope was not how quickly it wore me
out—I knew going in that it was going to be a challenge—but how mentally taxing
it was. When I looked down, I could see my whole class, from my best friends to
kids I barely knew, all looking up and cheering me on. Everyone was watching;
everyone had a guess as to whether I’d make it to the top. I knew there were
only two starkly different ways this story could end—with total joy or total
disappointment. With my muscles aching and the pressure on, all that remained
was deciding whether the reward was worth the struggle.
For
Christians living in a fallen world, every day is like climbing that rope. Believers
are called to the difficult work of living like Christ, of seeking the things
above instead of the things of this earth. Some days, armed with the power of
the Holy Spirit, you feel up to the challenge and you climb heavenward knowing
you have been raised with Christ.
But
other days you look down at a world mired in cynicism, suspicion, division, and
selfishness, and you want to just slide down where everybody else is.
Confronted with unhealthy conflict, it’s easier to join the fray than to seek
peace. Provoked to anger, it’s easier to lash out than to forgive. Told you
have to choose the lesser of two evils, it’s easier to resignedly comply than
to courageously seek something good.
Sinking
to the world’s level is easier than rising with Christ, and it places you in a
far bigger crowd, but the only reward it offers is disappointment. It is only
by continuing to climb heavenward, only by seeking the kingdom of God instead
of the kingdom of this world, that you will find joy. So may you seek Christ
even when it is difficult, even when it is counterintuitive, and even when it
places you outside the world’s norms. The reward is worth the struggle.
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