How to Fail
Preacher: Revd Dr Donald MacEwan, University Chaplain
Readings: Micah 6:1-8; Matthew 5:1-12
St Andrews is the oldest University in Scotland, and some would say the finest, the first and foremost, and if league tables are to be believed, better than all other universities in Britain. It’s not easy to get a place here. And so, once here, it’s no surprise that students can feel under a great deal of pressure to live up to expectations – from their lecturers, their parents and themselves. Essays should be exemplary, lab reports laudable, tests should be tiptop and exams exceptional; grades should be great and degrees distinguished. If you join a club or society, you should organise extraordinary events with scintillating speakers. If you play sport you should train with tenacity, and perform with prowess. The finest employers should be fighting to give you their most important internships and gratifying graduate jobs. Your friends must be fun, your flat should be the right side of the Kinnessburn, your body should be beach-ready, your sexual partners should be plentiful, and your main squeeze should be stylish, stunning or at least somewhat seductive.
There are echoes of these extraordinary expectations in the Christian life too. Many people try earnestly to be super-spiritual, attending every service, praying every morning and night, watching the latest must-see video by popular pastors and priests, volunteering for every Bible study, mission trip and retreat, being an indispensable help to all their friends, and who knows, maybe even writing second to none sermons.
Unfortunately there are a handful of people who fulfil these criteria. There are rare students who surpass others in academic success, commitment to societies and popularity with friends and lovers. And in the Christian faith there are occasional spiritual giants who remain grounded and humble. Every bell curve has individuals at the far end, and that can be great for them. But every bell curve has far more people in the broad middle section whose lives are full of honest ordinary ability and achievement, mixed up with misses.
Sam and I see this daily when students and staff come to discuss their lives with us. Many students struggle because they are somewhere in the middle, not perfect at everything or anything, but longing to be those outliers. That’s why I said it’s unfortunate in a way that there are lives of outstanding success and Christians of exemplary commitment. It can make perfectionists of the rest of us. And wanting to be perfect at things can lead us to fear failure, and so procrastinate about completing (or even starting) the task before us. And all that can contribute to anxiety in every aspect of life, guilt at letting everybody down, and paralysis in decision-making. For people of faith, we can add in some extra guilt for good measure at being a bad Christian, and failing God. Sure you want to stay in St Andrews?
Well, let’s turn to the Bible for some help. Help? Surely we’ll find commands in the Bible to be excellent, every bit as insistent as the University motto, Ever to Excel. Yes, there are such precepts here and there in scripture, counselling perfection. But today’s readings offer something far more interesting, far closer to the reality of lives most people live.
In the Old Testament, we hear from the prophet Micah of what the heart of the religious life should be. v. 6 explores what the Lord will be pleased with. Will it be offerings of goods, giving away huge amounts of stuff, sacrificing my loved ones? No. There’s no virtue in this virtue-signalling. Instead, God requires three attitudes – doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God. They are all about relationships – personal, social, with oneself and God. These attitudes are not nothing, indeed they are a significant commitment. But they’re not focussed on spiritual heroics – but on living well with self and others day by day. And they recognise our human frailty – our walk with God is humble. God requires our whole reality, and not merely our achievements.
Yesterday I met a friend and told him my sermon title today was “How to Fail”. Oh, that sounds interesting, he said, I should come. I don’t know how to fail, I’ve never had the experience. He was joking – but if it had been real it was a long way from Micah’s vision.
In the New Testament reading, Jesus is with his disciples at the start of a time of teaching known as the Sermon on the Mount. Between vv. 3 and 10, he tells them eight ways in which they are blessed, which became known as the beatitudes. Arguably, this is a Discipleship Strategy in eight pillars for the years AD30 into eternity. It starts with failure. Then it moves into loss. Then its third pillar is, yes, further failure. The beatitudes, before exploring other aspects of Christian commitment, begin with a threefold loss and failure. This is how to fail, according to Jesus.
First, v. 3: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Poor in spirit – I can’t think of a better expression for students and others who come to see Sam, me or other chaplains here when things are difficult with their mental health.
Their mood could be low, struggling to get out of bed, to get motivated to work, to see friends, to care about personal hygiene, feeling bad about themselves, believing that nobody could care about them, that the future will always be as bleak as today.
Or they could be full of worries, with every issue magnified, every deadline a mountain, every chance remark a trigger for endless cycles of negative thought, every relationship fraught, every action likely to lead to disaster, every ache or pain a sign of bodily breakdown.
Some will have specific difficulties over eating or over routines. And sometimes, there is the feeling that it could be easier not to be alive than to face the pain of this life.
Poor in spirit? I think so. And Jesus says they’re blessed. Blessed? Is that some sick joke?
Yet Sam and I have supported students and staff in and through their time being poor in spirit, and we have witnessed blessing. This blessing could be acknowledgment of reality, a reckoning with the self, a letting go of what doesn’t matter, a gaining of perspective, a growing trust in the love of friends, a letting go of guilt, a forgiving of self and, for some, a coming to trust in the loving companionship of God, a gracious kingdom of heaven. When I get photos on graduation days with joyful graduating students, sometimes they and I know how poor in spirit they were, and we acknowledge in a hug and a picture, how they’ve come to know blessing.
Let us focus also on the third beatitude, v. 5: Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Who are the meek? Could I suggest they are those who don’t succeed easily in material things, who may fail their modules, drop out of their degrees, miss the top internships, wait some time for a job after graduation, take two or three attempts to pass their driving test, who may never have the ample lifestyle they see fellow-students fall into seemingly without effort. And they are blessed, according to Jesus. Blessed are those who fail.
Yet Sam and I have supported students and staff in and through their failures, and we have witnessed blessing. A door closing leads to seeing another opening, a letting go of unreal expectations, a recognition that that particular path was the heart’s desire of someone else, not oneself; a growing sense that an apparently successful life can be an unending cycle of excessive work, worry, competition and fear. It can be a blessing to get off that escalator, wait on the landing for a while, or even take a step or two down the stairs. I have people in mind who’ve told me, “I’m doing less, earning less, and I’m much happier.”
I’m also conscious of a great place on the University website called The Usefulness of Failure. There are currently 18 short posts there by students and staff about how to fail. For example, one called Falling out of Love with my Major explores this student’s feeling they were a failure academically, but through that, learning there is more to life than their degree, enjoying sport, being a DJ and friends, a fine earthly inheritance.
Let me draw things together. According to both Micah and Jesus, God’s community has room for everyone in the bell curve of achievement. It’s a broad space of love, of welcome, of acceptance and forgiveness. It has room for our fabulous achievements, but maybe there’s even more space for our friendships, our foibles, our frailties and our failings. And as we come to know we are loved and accepted, the more we’ll be able to do what the Lord requires: justice, kindness and a humble walk with God. What a wonderful way to fail.
END