Risk

I’m not good with protocol. I just miss it. I always worry if I’m in a situation that will require me to know and follow the protocol. I was once chairing a church meeting when I was moderating for a church on the day they had to vote on something important. My worst nightmare came true when they needed to know if abstentions counted in the total vote count (and therefore affected the percentages for the vote). I didn’t know. Turned out neither did they. Out came the constitution and still we were none the wiser. We made a decision, which turned out, in God’s grace, to be the correct one! But my fear of protocol was simply confirmed. And now we’re into risk assessments.. I’m not good with risk assessments. It’s not that I don’t think it’s good to think about the risks associated with actions. I do. In fact, in many ways, I’m very good at it. I was as a teacher and I am now. But my heart sinks at the pages and pages of risk assessments we have to do today. I had to do a COVID risk assessment for the Monday night football club a couple of weeks ago. And tomorrow I have to read a code of conduct to all the guys before we start to play. Seriously?!! This is just common sense. And we’ve doing it for the past two months already! I spoke to a minister from a different denomination last week and he told me he had to fill out thirty eight pages of risk assessment before he could open the church for services Thirty eight pages! And he failed. So he had to do it again! I’ve heard that from two ministers in that denomination. I haven’t counted the pages for the BU risk assessments, but so far we have five risk assessments (I think) and there are more to do! It’s all in a bid to keep us safe. We want to be safe. But the world isn’t safe is it? There is always risk in everything we do. If we took no risks, we would never do anything. Ever. God took a risk. God took a huge risk. I have no idea if God did a risk assessment. I doubt it. But he knew the risks. He understood what might happen. In fact, he understood so very well, that he tried everything he could before taking the risk. He started again with Noah. He chose a rag tag group of people to be a nation and an example. He gave them the best set of laws to help them live well. He gave them prophets to remind them and challenge them. He gave them land to live in. He worked miracles, was the mind behind great escapes, and stood with them in everything. But nothing worked, so he took the risk. He understood what would happen. He trusted his son, his only son, to two Jewish teenagers. What a risk. He left all the glory of heaven to live among his own. What a risk. He did life with them. He walked with them. He helped them, healed them, he taught them. What a risk. And they nailed him to a cross. It would have been tragic and foolhardy if it were not to become the means of transformation for all who turn their hearts to him. It would have been a risk that was never worth taking if it did not become the death that brings life. To everyone. To you. To me. Today. I doubt God filled in a risk assessment. But if he did I think it would say “Because you’re worth it!” all over it! Because you are. Worth it, that is. Filling in a risk assessment doesn’t mean you never take a risk. It means when you do take a risk, you think it’s worth doing. And I’m so glad he took a risk. For me. For you. And maybe, just maybe, when I step out and take a risk following God, I have something of my father in me. And maybe you do too.