As I gather information for the previous year’s taxes, there are a few websites from which I will draw my information. To make access simpler, I keep a list of account names, numbers, and passwords. Saturday morning I try accessing one of those websites. I use an old link, and it rejects my login. So I use a brand new link and it rejects my login again. I confirm my username and password. Nope. I replace touch-typing with hunt-and-peck. Still no. I click the visibility eye in the password field to make sure it is correct. No. Other passwords. No. No. No. Pressing the enter key harder and with a grunt. No. Until I lock myself out of the account. I console myself only with the fact that I can’t get into the site anyway.
Here’s the thing. I access this site once a year, around tax time. And every single year I go through exactly the same thing. This company’s job is digital access to this financial information. It is not the financial company. It is a company whose only job is to provide digital access to several other companies’ customers. And every single year they fail to give me the digital access I need. Instead, I will have to call them soon and speak to a person to receive login information to access a system designed, for all I can tell, so that I will be able to access my information without having to speak to a person.
Why is it so hard to make something designed solely for convenience convenient? Because with that convenience comes the huge risk that someone else will access my information. So instead of complaining, I will thank the person I speak with on the phone about my login for the same reason I thank the 1 in 100 cashiers who ask to see my photo ID because I haven’t signed the back of my debit card. They know digital convenience brings real-world risk. Can we mitigate risk? Of course. And we do. But we cannot avoid it altogether.
Ministry brings exactly the same thing. Serving people means being exposed to the possibility of litigation, embarrassment, frustration, and rejection, just as a start. But we still serve people, because they are worth it. A counselor working in a clinic or applying their expertise for the benefit of others is taking risks. A teacher in the DISD is taking risks. A young pastor working in a rural church, or for a local megachurch, is taking risks. (And every time someone we influence risks ministry, so do we.) Entrusting responsibility to employees is risky. So is entrusting a career to a supervisor. Every time we open a door, we take a risk. But in that openness we are also serving the people commissioned us to serve.
Is having the convenience of the digital world at my fingertips worth the risk? That Saturday, no. Today, maybe.
Is giving an employee, a supervisor, a student, or a friend an opportunity for renewal or redemption worth the risk?
May our answer reflect God’s about us.