Just a Fearful Pawn

I have been the one who hid the true God.

I have been the one who twisted true love into heartless control.

I have been the one who led children into fearful servitude.

I folded my skirt under my knees and gathered my little cluster of kids into a circle on the blue, scratchy carpet of a nondescript Sunday School room. Anticipation and excitement made made my voice more enthusiastic than usual.  I had even practiced the illustration I was about to share with my wide-eyed, but well-behaved group of kids.

My friend had prepared the chessboard in front of me with the pieces already displayed as if a game was in progress.  The white and black spaces and plastic, medieval pieces waited my explanations.  The squares were the options we are given in life.  The pieces, us; but more specifically, a strategically-placed pawn who mischievously wanted to move to the space just in front of it. 

I explained that sometimes we don’t know the whole story, the whole plan; like this pawn, who only has eyes for the row directly in front of it.  The grandmaster, though, knows which piece should move next and where it should go because he has thought it through to the end game.  It’s not the pawn.  In fact, if the pawn moves, the king is in checkmate in 1 move by the sneaky opposing bishop.  If the pawn chooses to act on his own, disobeying the grandmaster, the game is lost.  This illustrated the risk of disobedience to God.  If we strike out on our own, the consequences could be deadly.

I lived by this fear.  I was the pawn who had dreams, but any move without the full assurance of approval could lead to disaster.  I would lose the love and blessing of God because I moved too soon, too slowly, or in the wrong direction.  Even small decisions like what road to take to church, or when to leave held such enormous risk.  If I didn’t ask for God’s approval and blessing, then I could have an accident that would change my life’s direction.  But, how to know I had God’s approval?  I didn’t have time for fleeces, only feelings of peace that passes understanding after a flare prayer.  Flawless obedience was the only guarantee of success.  This is fearful servitude.

A chess grandmaster is also a master at tactical sacrifice.  The pieces are only as good as their usefulness.  They are not friends and therefore, can be sacrificed with little emotional damage if that is what is needed to win.  It’s heartless control and the grandmaster is the controller.

Fearful servitude forced by a heartless controller was the point I effectively illustrated for my captivated group.  I believed it wholeheartedly.  It took me by the hand and betrayed me to its friends, Panic and the grim Self-Denial.

Love started filing down my chains when I met the true God.  Not the heartless controller.  He doesn’t sacrifice me to best his personal enemies.  He doesn’t cow me into obedience by threats of destruction. He whispers his presence when I’m looking across the board and see only scars and doom.  He promises to make good out of every situation and that includes the ones I may have muddled even with disobedience (gasp!).  The Ultimate Good establishes me securely in his blessing and sings his approval over me like a love song.

So, when the bishops, knights and queens of my night attack, when kings refuse to yield, my voice squeaks into the ruin that my God truly loves.  The deep rumbling bass of my Father sings me forward.