This church is dying
He walked into church on Sunday morning.
His suit was pressed; his tie was perfect.
His shoes had a glossy shine.
As he passed into the doorway,
he kept his eyes on the floor.
Mumbling to himself.
"This church is dying.
Nothing is like it used to be."
As he walked through the narthex,
he almost bumped into a homeless man.
Someone had given the poorly dressed slob
a loaf of bread
from a visitor's packet.
"What's he doing here?
This church is dying."
He shook his head,
and started for the sanctuary.
He frowned at the usher,
a short woman who smiled at him,
and welcomed him to church,
as she handed him a bulletin.
"Hmph," he grumbled to himself.
"This church is dying.
There are not even enough men to be ushers."
He looked down at the carpet,
as he headed to his pew.
He missed seeing the young couple,
freshly married,
who were so excited to come to church
the first time,
as a married pair.
He frowned at the two youth,
who were sitting in his spot,
taking up his space.
"Hmph!" he said again,
but they didn't notice.
He grumbled,
"This church is dying.
They don't even know me,
or that they are in my pew."
Reluctantly, he found another seat.
He frowned throughout the entire service.
At the soloist, as she sang to the accompaniment of guitar,
At the pastor, who delivered his sermon wearing his father's fishing hat,
as he talked about fishing for men.
At the baby who cried when she was baptized,
At the children who laughed through the children's moment.
Didn't they understand?
This church is dying.
The choir sang a postlude,
and as they finished,
the congregation burst into spontaneous applause.
Clapping!
How dare they?
This is CHURCH!
He threw down his bulletin,
and stomped out,
almost running into a group of friends,
saying goodbye for the week.
He finally made it outside,
glad to be away from this dying church.
He marched off, late for lunch.
He had been so sure that his church was dying,
that he had missed all of the signs of life.
Babies, children, youth.
Young couples, old couples,
Single friends in fellowship.
He had missed the beauty of the music,
the truth in the sermon,
the praise in the clapping.
He had missed the relief of a full stomach,
the claiming of a baby by God,
and the spreading of the gospel to children.
He had been so sure that his church was dying,
that he had seen more of the carpet,
than of God working in their midst.
He had felt so much pessimism and fear,
that he had missed the feel of the Holy Spirit,
trying to shake his shoulder,
and say,
"Look up! God is in this church.
Something incredible is about to happen.
Don't miss it!"
posted by Kim at 9:55 PM
7 Comments:
Amen
Great post... as usual.
I read it Saturday and thought of it again during today's meeting after church.
I hope that the "dying" church doesn't buy one of those "new fangled" video screen things or it's dead for sure.
Wait, maybe it was the radical change when folks added a pipe organ that "killed the church"... I don't recall Jesus using one during the Sermon on the Mount. He didn't feel the need to "entertain" people, so we shouldn't either.
Or maybe the church died when the choir started singing in harmony... or with polyphonic melodies... That church has probably been "dead" since they stopped singing Gregorian chants.
Those heretics probably even have stained glass windows distracting people's attention from the Preacher.
While we're at it, they should probably get rid of those printed Bibles because that will be a distraction too. There's no need to communicate the Gospel with those modern inventions and contraptions in a manner that people can understand on an individual or personal level.
I like my wineskin just the way it is. Yeah, it may be a little bit leaky, but those new wineskins are just way too risky. Aren't they?
bjs--Christ lived beyond Calvary, and that's where the Church began. I don't know much about Catechism or Mass, but why should authentic worship stop at the cross? Why can't it be joyful?
bjs said, "The Catholic Catechism teaches us that the Mass is a continuation of Calvary. It is this fundamental belief that we hinge our faith on."
A very wise man once told me that in order to understand Christianity, we begin at the resurrection. Our faith hinges on Christ, who died for our sins, and was then resurrected. A cause for celebration, don't you think? Our worship needs to express our unending thanksgiving for that. We are not called to remain at Calvary in our worship; it's not the end of the story.
Reverence is a bone-deep respect for God, and we should certainly have that. If our worship is only standing at the foot of the cross, witnessing to the humilation, then we fail to show God the reverence He deserves. If we can't move beyond the horror to the joy in our worship, then we miss the point of the death.
The hinge is the resurrection.
I would go further than Jeff the Methodist. I know nothing about catechism and Mass. I can only tell you where I stand, and what I know by faith.
Clapping is just another way to offer thanksgiving to God for all the wonderful, marvelous things He has done. And to me, that certainly qualifies as worship.
I guess we're talking about different things. I know nothing about the mass or the catechism. I don't think we can fit worship into a man-made box.
bjs -- Thank you for your comments. As the adage goes, I think we will have to agree to disagree.
I am Methodist, and our concept of worship is different from what you describe.
I agree that we cannot and should not forget the crucifixion. In the same breath, however, I must say that I cannot limit my worship of God to only the crucifixion. To do so, for me, is to ignore the hope of the resurrection.
As I say, that is my faith, and I can tell that it is different from yours.
Blessings,
Kim
bjs & kim- Christ's sacrifice was meaningless without the resurrection.In my heart I believe that (to continue the metaphor) the hinge of our faith connects the crucifixion (the door) to the resurrection (our home in glory).
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