Does Success Start on Sunday?

In the outskirts of the city, on a road that’s walked as much as driven, a typical car brakes at a red light.

It is the kind of car so typical that the actual model stays blurry in memory. It is the kind of braking so natural that the driver must know this block. Everything in the scene fits: the worn road, the red light, the common car, but not the bumper sticker. That is a different story, with its weathered corners and sunbaked background accenting a phrase in all-caps Comic Sans: “Success Starts on Sunday.”

There is also a church name, one as typical as the car, listed below the slogan in smaller letters. And now we get it. Said straight, the shiny message on this tattered sticker goes:

If you want success then go to church.

We’ve seen this before. Whether the devil’s out to get us or that big promotion needs reeling in, the most necessary thing for us to do, as this initiative would say, is to be at church today. Prophesying peril is one way; promising prosperity is another — and it’s actually more insidious.

A lot more folks like the sound of success over the sensationalism of Satan-talk. Whole movements are built on that, in fact. And even if we’re not driving to a basketball arena this morning, there’s still a chance we’ll be gigged by that gimmick. Does success really start on Sunday? Does it?

The real question is, “What do we want?”

If what we’re really after is to drive a nice vehicle or wear tailored suits or pad the 401k or grow business clientele or raise healthy kids or feel good about ourselves, then church attendance is not our problem. Idolatry is.

And if idolatry is our problem, we don’t need success, we need dust and ashes. We need to be made alive. Sunday, indeed, brings us hope for that, but it’s not this Sunday. It was a Sunday two thousand years ago when the earth shook and a large stone was rolled away. Jesus Christ, our Savior, crucified for our sins, dead in our place, was raised in power to overcome every obstacle to our everlasting joy in God.

Truth is, success doesn’t start on Sunday. Victory was accomplished on Sunday, and therefore we worship God alone, today and every other day of the week.

Why Rooting Joy in Ministry Success Is Disastrous

Is there a greater thrill than to know someone's life has been permanently transformed because you reached out to them?

It is sweet to know your sister was saved through your series of conversations, or that you helped to disciple a struggling couple whose marriage was headed toward an inevitable divorce, or that you preached a sermon that God was kind enough to use in someone's spiritual awakening.

Each of those things are treasured experiences — but none of them are intended to sustain our joy.

Jesus’ chose 72 of his followers and sent them out in his name. And they found incredible success in healing the sick and in watching demonically sabotaged lives get radically and immediately repaired. The experience must have been intoxicatingly fun.

But ministry success wasn't the most stunning thing, and Jesus warned his followers of that when they returned. He told them to look beyond the fruit and see an eternal foundation: "do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven" (Luke 10:20).

Written in heaven. That’s what he wanted them to see and us to see. Our highest joy is to know that our names are written in heaven. Knowing we are heirs to the bliss of God's eternal presence is the foundation for our greatest joys.

And knowing that means:

Pastoring is not the most important fact about the pastor.Missions is not the most important fact about the missionary.The spiritual gift is not the most important fact about the Christian.

But Jesus’ words apply to ministry “sag” just as much as they apply to revival.

By unplugging the disciples’ joy from their ministry effectiveness, Jesus likewise protects them (and us) from depression during seasons of seeming fruitlessness. Seasons of what appears to be effectiveness and ineffectiveness come and go. Seasons of revival are replaced by seasons of stagnation.

Perhaps we can include all of the fluctuations of life. Marriage, parenting, work, school — all areas of life where we are called by God to bear fruit. Our joy is not rooted in our successes, and it's not extinguished by our failures. Our joy is rooted in the unalterable fact that in Christ our names are written on heaven's roll-call.

Paul reminded his ministry associates of this point (Philippians 4:3). And I need that reminder every morning. Because whether ministry is flourishing or not, we need to remind ourselves, and remind each other, that our names are written in heaven. And it is in heaven, in the presence of God forever, where our joy is rooted. May God protect us now, in the bustle of life and the wins and losses in ministry, from losing the sweetness of that truth.

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