Spiritual Benchpress

On the flight back from BNYC, I sat next to "Jerry." As Jerry and I continued to talk, he mentioned that he played offensive line for Long Beach State University. Clearly, he noticed my great physique [/sarcasm], and we began to talk his strength regimen. Jerry mentioned that he eventually bench pressed over 405 pounds. As we continued to talk, he mentioned he had no use for steroids or any chemical help.

How ever does a person get to being able to bench 405 pounds?

Jerry explained it was his strength and conditioning coach. "He believed if you never felt it, you'd never lift it."

(There was an awkward pause as I wondered what Jerry meant, and he wondered how someone as buff as me [/2nd sarcastic comment] didn't already know what he meant.)

Jerry went on to explain. Even though his maximum lift was only 385 pounds, shortly after arriving on LBSU campus, the strength coach had him try 405. Jerry said he thought his chest was going to tear. He thought his arms were going to be crushed under the enormous weight. The first several times he "lifted" 405, the spotters did all the work, Jerry arms just traveling on for the ride. However, after a couple of weeks, he noticed he was doing more and more of the work, until he finally even moved beyond 405. He wrapped up the explanation by telling me, "Had I never felt 405 on the bar, there's no way I ever would have lifted it."

Weighty Theology

Jerry's weight lifting seemed to correlate with other things I had been thinking. Do we avoid certain doctrinal issues or teachings because we are convinced "the people" can't handle it? Have we focused so much on our audience, that we don't really push the congregation? Is it possible that one reason teens walk away when they get to college is because they enter college with the same spiritual strength they had in third grade?

I know I experienced this phenomenon in Greek class. The author of the text book referred to it as "the fog." I remember working through a chapter in the book and feeling like I didn't retain a thing. I would feel so frustrated that the professor would move on, even though I felt the entire class did not understand a bit. However, a week or two later, "the fog" would lift, and you suddenly realized you understood after all. If the professor has stopped, and tried to make sure we were all on board, I seriously wonder if the fog ever would have lifted.

What is the nature of the cross?

Why is penal substitutionary atonement such a big deal?

What about the doctrines of grace?

What about people who've never heard the name of Jesus?

These questions, and many many more like them, are "controversial" questions or too deep for many people to tackle. Pastors, fearful of being to heady or not connecting with their congregation, tend to avoid these issues then. Then, questions that children used to learn the answers to, are now questions adults still haven't had answered. But we as pastors think they aren't ready (and often they tell us they aren't ready) so the congregation continues to sit...

unable to do the heavy lifting.