Living in Haiti, I’ve learned that culture eats strategy for breakfast. It’s my job as the President of Emmaus Biblical Seminary to strategically plan for the short term and long term future of the school. My team and I regularly envision new programs, calculate for policies and procedures, brainstorm methods for achieving higher enrollment, among a series of other planning activities. It’s just when we think that we’ve accounted for all the variables that something cultural throws us a curve ball and we have to start back at square one.
I preach a lot too in Haiti; nearly every Sunday. Sermon preparation is an intimidating thing. Having the charge to be the mouthpiece of God is intimidating. How do I reconcile the reality that a Holy and Good God can channel is life-giving word through a mortal and (very) imperfect instrument like me?
Going back to culture, when preaching, I’m always concerned that my sermon illustrations are culturally relevant, and my accented Creole is connecting with my listeners. Do they understand me? How do I say “trash can lid” in Creole? (yes, I was searching for this word for a sermon illustration last week) How will I be received as a foreigner and a racial minority? Is there a problem with the fact that I’m white in light of the history of slavery in Haiti?
All of these questions are perpetually running through my head, not just in preaching, but in all ministry planning activities. The meta question framing all that I do in response to God’s call on my life is, how can God use the likes of me to accomplish his purposes?
The answer is the Holy Spirit.
When we talk about the Holy Spirit as a purifying fire, we usually think of him purifying us of our sins and sin nature. What we usually miss is that he also purifies our work in the world for Jesus. As I preach, as I strategize, the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of removing all the human impurities, imperfections, and insufficiencies and transform my meager efforts into something meaningful, substantial, and life transforming for others.
Oil, as a symbol for the Holy Spirit, makes things beautiful. Esther 2:12 talks about Esther using oil to make herself (more) beautiful for being presented to the king. This is the same image used of Jesus being anointed for burial in Matthew 26. Oil makes things glisten, like Moses’s face when talking to the Lord in the Tent of Meeting (Exodus 34:29–35; cf. 2 Corinthians 3:18).
This means that the Holy Spirit can take our human efforts and make them beautiful. After all, he is capable of much especially in human weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9–11), because He is God.
I liken this to the story of the fish and the loaves that we read about in Matthew 14:13–21. There is a multitude of people to feed, and a small boy comes forward with five loaves of bread and two fish. Our human thought is, “Is that all? That will never get the job done!” How often I’m tempted to think these same thoughts as a cross-cultural missionary! Then the Holy Spirit corrects me, and reminds me that he can take the most modest of offerings and make them big and beautiful.
Offer Him what you have. He will make it beautiful.
