I feel as though we have been tall poppied, cut down because we were too successful.
I don’t know whether we really were seen as a shining light or a jewel in the crown, or even as a threat to the capital. What had we done that was great? Who was proud of us? Who was threatened by us? Who wanted us “changed” for the better, to either release us to grow in a new direction, like a tomato plant newly tied to a tier, or who needed us cut down like a weed in their garden so that they could shine without us blocking their light to others.
I don’t know. Was there a conspiracy? I really don’t know.
But what about inside? Were we becoming too successful for your own good? Did the new team put the old teams to shame? Did the previous generation think that they were going to be shamed by the “greater things than these” than were the “greater glory of the new house”? Perhaps so, and that one I am more confident to suggest. We thought we were the next leg in the relay, carrying the baton on toward the finish line that had been carried so faithfully by those running before us. They thought the race had already been won when they entered the change-over box, and were then confused when they saw us starting a another race, and race to which they had not been invited.
It was the same race.
It was the same Church.
It is the same Lord.
We were not tall poppies, we were lilies of the field, but we have been mown down.