The Edge, Not the End

As I was reading Pastor Kevin’s blog today, it occurred to me, “I need to be blogging”. I need to write. It helps me process. So, if you read this and get any benefit out of it, that will be icing on the cake.

The quote that really has me thinking comes from John Palmieri, a really great meat-salesman-turned-pastor that I knew in Chicago. He says,

“I'm sure that many more are on the brink...the edge...of throwing in the towel and thinking that there just aren't any more options. My prayer is that churches that feel they are on the edge of closing their doors would realize that the edge doesn't necessarily mean the end...but just maybe the beginning -- an opportunity for something Fresh and New. After being a part of three restarts, two of which I was intimately involved...I've become a firm believer that what looks like the death of a church could very well be the closest to a fresh start then they have ever been before. Oh, God increase our faith - help us to see with your eyes and to have a true Kingdom mentality.”

As I reflect on where our church is, has been, and is headed, reading this triggered something in my mind.

Death and resurrection.

Dying to self.

We all know (and by “we” I mean those of us who have been significantly indoctrinated in the Christian faith) that being a Christian means taking up your cross daily. That in order to allow God to live through us, we have to die to ourselves.

Have you become anesthetized to this terminology like I have? Does the word “die” no longer evoke a visceral, painful image for you?

An incredible man of God at my church said to me once (as his wife was nearing death), “As Christians, we love to talk about heaven, but we don’t want to do what it takes to get there.”

Wow.

When it comes to actual death, are we afraid? I am. I’m not afraid of that moment when I die, but I am afraid of the deterioration process that will probably occur before hand (assuming I don’t die instantly). What scares me is the process of losing my basic abilities to function without help, or even to have coherent thoughts. To endure pain and be humbled by depending on younger people to do things like dress myself and go to the bathroom. I don’t know about you, but this is a sobering thought for me.

But the reward of making it through that, after having given my life to Jesus, is that I will see Him face to face. I will be in a place where there is no pain, only freedom.

To quote a Cross Movement song:

One day I won't cry no more

Can't wait for the day
when people won't die no more
Daddy's won't say “bye” no more; lie no more
In the streets, bullets won't fly no more

Won't feel no pain no more
Won't have to push, pull, won't have to strain no more

Won't have to
walk lame no more
Won't have to play the game no more.

This is what I have to look forward to, and thought of it fills my eyes with tears of joy. What encourages me most today, though, is that Jesus isn’t just coming back for me. He is coming for His bride – the Church.

And I have hope for my local church because it is a part of His Church. Not because of the leadership - the leadership consists of mere humans. Like myself, all they have to offer is what God does through them.

Our only redeeming -- literally-- quality is that we are the bride of Christ. He loves us. He died for us. He rose from the grave, victorious, for us. All to glorify His Name and His Character. He didn’t need to do it. And He certainly didn’t need our help to do it!

So why do we think He needs our help now?

As if by our intellectual wisdom, by our human efforts, we can piece back together what is broken and turn it into a thriving ministry.

I realize today that what I have been in the midst of is a dying church.

Don’t panic, fellow church members! There is redemption at the end. This is not a cynical, hopeless litany of what once was. Keep reading.

The process is humbling and painful. Just like the process of dying to self, it is nowhere near the warm and fuzzy experience we thought Christianity would be like when we listened to “Better is One Day” and “You are My King” (no disrespect to Passion, of course - just harkening back to the days when I thought my newfound passion for God would make life less difficult than it was before I was a “radical follower of Christ”).

We have discovered that we are incapable of paying for everything that was in our budget. We have discovered that we are incapable of producing all the ministries and events we envisioned. We have discovered that we are incapable of deep, reconciled, ministry relationships. And I think we are on the verge of discovering that God is capable.

But first, we have this process we tend to go through…

1. Realization of the true state of reality.

2. Shock, sadness, desperation.

3. Rolling up our sleeves and diving in, determined to save the day. Praying harder, meeting longer, thinking further outside the box, going, going, going, 24/7...

4. Getting tired, and, God forgive us, a bit angry/hurt and cynical.

5. The point of humility: asking others for help.

6. Discouraged and dejected – too burned out to even talk about church issues, we watch the
“others” go through the process above. We hope it will turn out different for them. (The “others” don’t understand why we don’t want to talk about this anymore. They encourage us, and some of us jump back to step #3 for awhile, if we have it in us…)

The people in our church are going through this in waves: First the staff and Council, then those closest to them, then everyone else, in layers.

I think we have to let go.

I think of the difference between the face of someone who just started battling a life-threatening disease, and the face of someone who has one foot in heaven.

Do you know that look?

That peaceful look of acceptance and being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see. Yes, there is pain, yes I am incapable, but I am about to see His face. I have to let go of how I think things ought to be right now in order to embrace what He has for me.

There is no Resurrection without death.

I think sometimes in our personal lives, and also in our church, we try to hang on to what God did for us last week, last year. Sometimes, I’m afraid that if I let go of those things, I will be left empty-handed.

Despite the fact that we have seen God come through again and again, it doesn’t make the dying part easy. We think, if we were just more “spiritual” we could trust Him more and it wouldn’t be so hard. If we had more faith, we wouldn’t be crying out, “Why? Why?”

This makes me think of the verse in Matthew – the one I like to breeze past so I can get to the good part:

From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. About
the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sachthani? –
which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

(Wait a minute, you didn’t try to breeze past that part, too, did you? One more time, just to make sure…)

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

The truth is, God has never forsaken us. He let His Son go through that so we wouldn’t have to. But isn’t it interesting that even though Jesus completely trusted His Father and was without sin, He still asked why?

Too bad Job’s friends weren’t around to explain it to Him. They would have shown Him where He went wrong!

So the next question becomes, when do we reach the point of Resurrection? In the historical account of Jesus, about three days. But what about in our church? In our lives?

I don’t have the answer to that one. All I know is…

death comes before Resurrection;

the refining fire produces something extremely valuable;

we can’t hold on to what God did last time (or what we think we can accomplish on our own);

and we can’t skip the “Why?” part.

So, if I can’t fix the problem, and I don’t have the answer, what can I do?

I can fall on my knees and say to God,

Why, God? I don’t understand. Where did it all go wrong? Why can’t we just love each other and serve You together? Why does it have to be so hard?

I can’t do this. But I know that You can. My ideas didn’t work. My efforts failed.

God, bring us Your plan and Your power. We want to be Your church. Do what You want. Use us, if You want. Use someone else if You want. Turn Your church into what You want it to be. Bring us new life, a fresh start, a revival… a Resurrection.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

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