If at First You Don’t Succeed….

Thomas Edison was once asked if he felt like a failure after 9,000 unsuccessful attempts at inventing an electric light bulb. Famously, Edison replied, “Why would I feel like a failure? I now know definitively over 9,000 ways that an electric light bulb will not work. Success is almost in my grasp.” Sure enough, after 10,000 attempts, Edison succeeded.

I share this story as I stand somewhere between experiments one and 10,000. As you have seen over the past year, I have been hosting the Cave, a contemplative worship service I feel called to offer to those drawn to more quiet prayer. And as you may have seen more recently, I have decided to put the Cave on hiatus. I am grateful for those who have attended and who have said how meaningful it has been for them. And I am grateful to Faith Church in Emmaus for its hospitality in allowing the Cave to meet there. But attendance has been low, and demands of the Presbytery have been great, and something had to give.

But in the spirit of C Change, the Presbytery’s effort to support new worshipping initiatives, I am grateful for the nature of experimentation, and for those in the C Change community who can help move the conversation from “I failed” to “What I have learned?” And if you think this is pie-in-the sky naiveté, consider the personal mission statement of Sir Richard Branson, founder of Virgin Atlantic Airlines and Virgin Music. Branson aspires “To have fun in my journey through life and learn from my mistakes.” If it is good enough for a man employing over 50,000 people worldwide, or one holding patents on electric light bulbs and over 1,000 other inventions, learning from what doesn’t work ought to be good enough for us!

I will now pray and think and talk: has the issue with the Cave been day, time, or place — or the idea itself? What can I learn from comparing the Cave to two other more well-attended experiments I lead in contemplative prayer? And can I allow myself the time to discern the possibilities and make adjustments, without a knee-jerk “it has to be now” or “it has to be the way I originally thought”?

Now, what about your ideas, as an individual or as a church, a God-given gift through you to the world? Can you take that concept, risk sharing it with others, and take the first uncertain steps toward making it happen? Because if you really think God may have inspired you to something new, but you do nothing to test it out and see if it is real, that is the very definition of burying a treasure in a very deep hole.

The world needs too many God-given gifts to throw any of them away.

God is all in all,
Steve