Fantasies
rarely shape reality. More often, they simply frustrate
it. When we fantasize, we idealize something. And we
fantasize in almost every area of life - wealth, power,
sex, marriage, children, and church (to name but a
few).
Some
fantasies seem harmless enough and perhaps even noble.
We imagine what a great marriage would be like, if only
this or that could be changed. We dream about a
more attractive church, if only the leaders - or the
congregants - would change in some way. But therein lies
the danger. We romanticize how things could be, and miss
the grace of God in what
is.
Dietrich
Bonhoeffer once wrote: "Every human wish dream that
is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance
to genuine community and must be banished if genuine
community is to survive. He who loves his dream of a
community more than the community itself becomes a
destroyer of the latter, even though his personal
intentions may be ever so honest and earnest and
sacrificial."
How
easily we travel into the wishful world, and find
that its fruit is often a critical spirit. "A truly
godly leader would ... If only this worship service was
... These people are just not ... My marriage would be
so much better if ... Etc." Our fantasies and
idealism, rarely grounded in reality, serve only to fuel
a fire of unholy
discontent.
We
imagine how the Church or Christian community could be,
and when it falls short, we are bruising in our
reaction. We love the fantasy, but not the
people.
I
don't want to negate the value of visionary leadership
or pressing towards maturity. But a chasm exists between
vision and fantasy, and between maturity and naive
idealism. Some of us have formulated ideals that no
living person or real community could attain. This
fantasy then breeds frustration, not
motivation.
We've
often heard that "the grass is always greener on
the other side of the fence." Eventually, however, we
cross most of the fences and realize that the grass is
consistently the same. The problem lies in our
perspective.
"He
who loves his dream of community more than the
community itself becomes a destroyer of the
latter."
How
deeply do we love those who've been given to us? Or
do we long more deeply for those who don't
exist?
Our
fantasies, well-intentioned as they may be, do more harm
than good. They blind us to grace in the present moment.
They discourage and disillusion us. They undermine the
"fellowship of the fallen", and they isolate us from
those given to us. Such fantasies harm our marriages,
our children, our churches ... and us.
Let's discard
these seductive phantoms, the "perfect" people and
places, before we damage the real gift that we already
have.