I participated in my first triathlon this past weekend. I’m not much of a swimmer, so it wasn’t a true triathlon. The race began with a three mile kayak/canoe on the Wolf River, followed by a 19 mile mountain bike, and it ended with a 3 ½ mile trail run through the hills and along the river. It was a blast. Challenging, grueling, and exhausting. But a blast nevertheless. I participated in the race with two of my best friends. We travelled up to northern Wisconsin and camped out the night before the race. It’s beautiful country up there, and I strongly recommend taking a visit to the Nicolet National Forest and exploring the Wolf River if you ever get a chance. The campground was great, the weather was perfect, the stars were bright and beautiful, and the lake nearby was gorgeous.
But, as I was exploring the area around our campsite, I discovered a large spider web…with my face! You need to understand that I hate spiders. I was attacked and bitten by numerous spiders once while sleeping when I was a young child. So my relationship with spiders is akin to Indiana Jones’ relationship with snakes. I truly believe they are evil. I’m pretty sure that the original language from Genesis is better translated with “spider” than “serpent” when referring to the creature in the Garden of Eden. I have sat each of my children on my lap when they are little and looked through their book of animals with them, teaching them to moo like cows, purr like cats, bark like dogs, roar like bears, and smash the picture of the spider that appears midway through the book. So, when I walk through a spider web, especially with my face, I freak out a bit because I can’t help but wonder, “Where’s the spider that made this web? Is it on me? Is it on my head?”
You’ll notice that mt. bikers in central Illinois are usually pretty eager to let others lead the way the first time through a trail, mostly so that person can identify the fallen logs, thorns, dangerous curves, and spider webs. So I know I’m not alone in this dislike of spiders and their webs. Admittedly, I may be a bit more phobic with my dislike than others, but I’m OK with that.
However, though I hate spiders, I also respect their incredible ability to produce a small strand of fiber that, proportionate to their weight and size, is incredibly strong. The tinsel strength of spider webs is incredible. If humans had the power to produce something similar from our bodies, it would be like pulling a 2-inch steel cable from inside our bodies. That’s wild. And spiders can weave their webs so fast. You can tear down a web on your house in the evening, and the next morning it’s back up. And, though I don’t like to walk through them, I love to see a spider web covered in dew and reflecting the sunlight on an early morning walk or run. They really are quite beautiful. And I think we can learn something from the web. It has many points of connection. It’s sticky, making things cling to it when they come in contact with it. And they are intricate.
What if we modeled our small groups off of the design of a spider web? What if our small groups had a number of points of connections? What if they were strong and resilient? What if they caused those who come in contact with them to stick and cling to the group, and the church? What if you drew an organizational chart for small group? Would it look more like a pyramid, with everything pointing to one person at the top? Or maybe like an inverted pyramid, with everyone else piling up on the one person who tries to remain the foundation. What if our chart looked like a spider web, with shared responsibility in many areas, with various people leading and facilitating and helping steer the group? Maybe that’s how we’ll find the strength, the stickiness, and the beauty in our small groups – by enlisting others to serve and to lead in various capacities. And, as leaders, when we can share the leadership and take a season off, then we just might have the opportunity to step back and recognize the beauty in the design.
