Cynicism to Wisdom

In the opening chapter of the book of Ecclesiastes the Preacher makes this observation about the fallen world we live in: “All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it.” 

You don’t have to be a theologian or a sociologist to see that the Preacher is right. There is weariness in our culture. People are tired. It’s a weariness that has got into the bones. 

This is especially true for those living in Clinton. Everyday I bike past old buildings with crooked window panes staring back at me like the tired eyes of old men. There is hardly a patch of concrete, a piece of siding, or a lump of limestone that does not moan a weary song. Citizens of this place are all, to some degree, like tenants of an old house with an endless to do list. At some point, even the most heroic among us get tired of patching the holes and filling the cracks. 

One way or another weariness always leads to cynicism. Weariness weakens the immune system of a person's heart making them susceptible to the infection of cynicism. And you know cynicism has caught root in your heart when you see a young effort to plow an old field, and your response is, “that’ll never work.” 

Cynicism expresses itself in situations when new laborers are introduced to a field that you have spent yourself plowing and have become weary. Often when a young man steps into a hard work, he may have some grand ambitions and big goals. And in response the older man may scoff or express his cynicism, because he knows all too well where the work will lead. His knowledge of just how hard the work is makes him skeptical, uncertain, cautious. 

But cynicism doesn't have to be a festering disease. Yes, cynicism is an inevitable infection in a world full of toil, pain, and sin. There are things we work for and just come up short sometimes. And therefore our optimism is always tempered by the hard facts of life. But cynicism does not have to turn us into bent creatures of hopeless mutter and grumble. Recognized early, cynicism can become the first step toward wisdom. 

As a church planter in a tired river town I often wrestle with how to contextualize the gospel of Jesus to a cynical culture. My wrestling with this starts with wrestling with my own cynicism. I grew up here after all. The broken windows and shuttered storefronts have been the wallpaper of my life. Anyone that knows me would never describe me as a happy clappy guy. And yet I refuse to be conquered and marked by naysaying. The gospel won’t allow me to become that. My own heart was dead and hopelessly beyond repair, and yet Jesus saved me. I have been saved by an eternally joyful Savior. I abide in a King that promises to make my joy complete. I wholeheartedly believe that the Spirit of Jesus is stronger than the disease of cynicism, and is daily reminding me that the “joy of the Lord will be my strength” (Neh 8:10). 

Remembering the gospel and fighting to believe its promises is hard enough for me. And yet, as a church planter I am attempting to tell others about this gospel. But not just other people, people like me—cynical people who’s instinct is to shrug off what I have to say because they’ve seen it all before, and they aren’t impressed.

And justifiably so. Places like Clinton—places that have big, obvious, and complex problems—seem to be a magnet for folks who make big promises but don’t follow through, people who write big checks that they can’t cash, people that want to be the hero. These are people who have a messiah complex. For countless years young men with ambition have thrown themselves headlong into the mess of this place and have attempted to sweep it clean with just a few urgent strokes of the push broom. But in many cases they have simply created dust. And the folks that they recruited to help them clean have been left to cough on the dust and pick dusty boogers. 

A messiah complex is obvious when a person has the gall to think they can save the world on their own. Or that it is their idea that will finally be the breakthrough this town needs. If only the naysayers would move over. Like if I pushed my chair back, tilted my head to the sky, and in a pontificating tone said, “YOU KNOW WHAT THIS TOWN NEEDS…” My cynical brethren would begin to tune out at the sound of my chair squeaking. 

But a messiah complex can express itself in more subtle ways. It can even look pretty holy. For example, when a missionary says, “We’re going to go to [so and so country] and bring Jesus to the poor dears. As if Jesus is a piece of luggage to grab and drop off. A Biblically literate person ought to pause, pucker his lips with his forefinger in the air, and say mmmm. And then he should offer Colossians 1. Jesus made all things, holds all things, and is reconciling all things to himself. Jesus is actually already there. It is you, the missionary, that Jesus is bringing there. 

I see this all the time in Clinton. I see it in my own heart if I'm honest. It is an arrogance that says I, the noble and savvy Nick Powell, hereby proclaim, after much meditation on the mountain top, that I know how to plant a true church and solve all the city's problems. Now when I’m in my right mind, which I hope to be more times than not, I do not think that. I try to kill the self-righteous Gaston that lives in my heart. Because that guy will hurt people in the name of fixing things. In God’s kindness his Spirit tempers my selfish ambition and helps me arrive at something that begins to resemble wisdom. But it’s a struggle for sure. 

One thing you might ask is why would a person question a young man’s desire to “bring Jesus to a place”? Cynicism, that’s what. How many church members have been stirred up and mobilized to charge a hill only to discover that they were led by a fool hearty pastor who was nothing more than a mercenary. How many new leaders pop up in churches promising a “new” way of doing things. At some point the older members realize that what passes for a holy ambition often ends up being baptized selfish ambition. And so some churchmen seek to remove themselves from the endless cycle of new leaders attempting to reinvent the wheel. They do it out of a desire to save themselves from senseless heartache. Cynicism is often a kind of safety mechanism. It helps preserve a memory of what caused the pain. But if left unchecked, cynicism can become cancerous and its malignant growth can cause hopelessness and apathy in a person. This is not of the Lord. That is why cynicism is only a first step. The next step is to move toward the wisdom of Jesus.

But this is the key, cynicism must be recognized early and must not be used as an excuse to tap out. There are no scrooges in the Kingdom of God. Following Jesus means joyful belonging to Jesus and his church. A cynical person who does not respond to their cynicism well is like a person who has been burned by the oven and now scowls at and refuses all ovens from here on out. This is foolish cynicism. And the fool misses the delight of pie because he refuses the wisdom and knowledge of baking without getting burned. 

I know so many people have been burned by a church, a pastor, a “movement,” a culture, etc… And so many of you are just flat out tired of it all. But even despite your weariness I urge you to “contend for the faith” (Jude 3). Not because I want to be your pastor who finally shows you how to do it all right. I’m not that stupid to believe that. I’m going to make some blunders along the way. No, I want you to pursue deep belonging to Jesus and the church not because I’m doing it right finally. I want you to contend for the faith because it’s worth it. 

What I want is for you to harness that cynicism, make it lead you to Christ. Go to the one who provides a strong joy and a vibrant Spirit that invigorates your tired bones. Move toward Jesus, in whose presence is fullness of joy and pleasures forever more (Ps 16:11).

The longer we live the more weariness will enter our hearts. We all get burned by the heat of a fallen world. But the fool indulges in cynicism. He lets it fester into a joyless disease. But the wise fights to look beyond the immediate weariness of this broken world. The wise see hope. Because the wise sees eternity with Christ.