One Mistake is Not the End

In the United States, local governments routinely count traffic volume on important roads and major highways. The data is collected to help with repairs and provide insight into future infrastructure projects. In the 1970s, the process was complex. Local authorities would use a pneumatic road tube counter connected to a paper tape. Every time a car would pass over the tube, the counts were recorded onto the tape. The local government would then hire someone to manually count the information on the tape. This could become time consuming and costly, especially to towns and cities on a budget. But a company called Traf-O-Data developed a solution that would change the game.

Traf-O-Data was a Seattle-based company that had conceived of novel idea: what if a computer could count the data from the paper tapes attached to the road counters? Intel had just released the 8008 microprocessor. It was a ground-breaking evolution in computing speed for the time. The founders of Traf-O-Data realized the 8008 could not only read the tapes but calculate them as well. There was one problem: they did not have any experience in computer hardware design.

Through a few well-placed calls to friends at the University of Washington, Traf-O-Data eventually built a prototype of their computerized traffic counter. Seattle officials were intrigued. If they could automate the counting experience, they could save time and money by not outsourcing private contractors to do the counting. The moment of truth came when a Seattle County official came to examine the prototype.

It was a disaster. The prototype failed to work as efficiently as promised. To make matters worse, the state had recently started offering local governments free counting services. With the prototype not working and the financial incentive removed, Traf-O-Data went out of business.

Who were the owners? Bill Gates and Paul Allen, the future founders of Microsoft.

Gates and Allen provide a prime example of how one mistake does not mean the end. Christians, of all people, should understand this mantra. Our entire faith is grounded in the principal that our past mistakes no longer bind us. So, why do we wrestle with believing it?

The answer is complex. Sometimes people don’t let us forget our mistakes. Distrust and doubt are easier to maintain then practicing grace and forgiveness. Sometimes people feel our mistakes reflect on them. This is especially true in families, churches, and pastoral-staff relationships. Embarrassment is a powerful tool, and sometimes as parents and pastors, we feel that the mistakes of our children, congregations and staff reflect on our ability to mentor. Conversely, when we make mistakes, we sometimes feel that our mistakes have so shamed and dishonoured others that they will never give us a second chance. Whatever answer explains our attitude towards mistakes, they are often upended by the Gospel.

Running

The problem with mistakes is that we all make them. Yet, Christians often live in a culture that forgets this reality. Churches and denominations can suffer a collective amnesia. It’s a subtle forgetfulness. On the surface we say, “grace for all,” but we betray these proclamations with qualifiers like “there is forgiveness, but one must still live with the consequence of sin,” especially as it pertains to who can serve and not serve in the church. The moment we add qualifications is the moment we betray the very grace we preach. This subtle zero-tolerance towards mistakes seems to contradict a pivotal teaching of Jesus: The Prodigal Son.

The Prodigal Son is an easy-bake sermon sitting in the minds of many pastors, but no matter how many times I hear it from the pulpit, the emphasis is often skewed. We imagine the story of a wayward son returning home as a mirror of the redemption story. To some extent it is, but the story reveals less about us and more about God’s feelings towards us in light of our mistakes. This is particularly highlighted in the final moments of the story, which require notice:

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”

Now it’s important to remember first century Jewish culture. The father would have been rich, respected, and honoured within his community. For this man to run towards a son who had shamed him in the eyes of the community, and then for the him to demonstrate intimacy by kissing him, would have been remarkably confusing to Jesus’ listeners. But Jesus’ emphasis cannot be overlooked: God does not look at mistakes and shame the same way our culture and religious sub-culture does. The prodigal son made many mistakes and caused great shame, but the father’s response is one of love, compassion, and grace. It seems that it is only our human nature that casts shame and makes others pay for their mistakes, not God. In fact, this is witnessed by the brother in the story when he complains to the father for showing compassion:

‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

The “good” son’s response reveals a particular point about religious expectations. When Christians use subtlety to make others pay for their mistakes, its often rooted in a sense of self-righteousness. I have slaved away in ministry or I have been faithful to you God, how can you give this sinner a pass? Certainly, there must be some consequence for their mistake? But what if there is not? At least, not in the eyes of God? What if a completely wayward individual is accepted by God and then able to serve him consequence free? What if our mistakes no longer define our lives? What if, like the father, God is running towards us, unafraid of the shame of his neighbours and unafraid of the shame we’ve given him? What if, surprisingly, in the Kingdom of God, mistakes become tools for our ministry, not barriers to further ministry?

Learning as Consequence

Traf-O-Data must have seemed like one big mistake to Bill Gates and Paul Allen. But it didn’t curtail their destiny as highly successful businessmen. Why? When asked about the company years later, Allen replied:

“If it hadn’t been for our Traf-O-Data venture, and if it hadn’t been for all that time spent on [University of Washington] computers, you could argue that Microsoft might not have happened…In my experience, each failure contains the seeds of your next success — if you are willing to learn from it. Bill and I had to concede that our future wasn’t in hardware or traffic tapes. We’d have to find something else.”

Humans tend to look at failure or mistakes as something in need of a consequence. But this betrays the truth of mistakes. Mistakes are already fused with a consequence: shame. So, when Christians come along and attempt to add an additional consequence to mistakes made by others, such as barriers to ministry, we end up serving a double portion of shame (much like the Pharisees of Jesus’ day). When my son is caught writing chalk on the wall, he suddenly feels the weight of shame. What good is it for me to compound that shame by adding additional punishments? I will certainly suggest he help clean up, but retributive chastisement serves little purpose when dealing with an already wounded soul.

Throughout my ministry, I have made a plethora of mistakes. But here’s the truth: the true consequence for my mistakes is that I learned from them. Maybe not the first time, but as I began to grow, I began to understand that “the stove is hot if I touch it.” More importantly, those mistakes, as Allen suggests, became seeds for success.

One mistake did not cripple Gates and Allen. Instead of allowing it to define them, they allowed it to motivate them to learn and grow. The plethora of the prodigal son’s mistakes did not cripple him. He eventually came to a point where he allowed those mistakes to inform his decision-making. He learned from them and returned his father for forgiveness. Most importantly, the father, who is God, did not allow those mistakes to define his relationship with his son, even if it meant further shame from his community.

God is not going to allow whatever mistake you’ve made to define the entirety of your story. Even if others seek to compound the shame and embarrassment you already feel, God is going to restore you and help you learn. God is going to take the seeds of failure and grow you out of the proverbial pig sty of life.

In terms of others feeling “embarrassed” by you, I’ll leave you with a simple thought: those who claim to follow Jesus and yet make others pay for past mistakes are scarcely practicing what they preach. If you were the prodigal son, would you rest in the love of your father, or the bitter words of your brother?