“I don’t even know what church looks like anymore,” said the
voice from across the table in the Board Room.
By his count, the Board had done 7 things to de-church the church: ending Sunday night and Wednesday night
services, stop taking an offering, got rid of the organ, took out the pews,
packed up the choir robes, and now, doing away with the bulletin. He was savvy
enough to know that 7 is the biblical number of completion. So he felt “biblically” justified in the
pronouncement of the church’s demise. From his point of view, the last vestige
of the “church” was gone. All that was
left was just a group of people and a building.
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| Church of the Immaculate Conception, the chapel for the Sisters of Providence of Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, Indiana. |
No one would ever say out loud, or even admit to themselves
the possibility that these things approach “idol” status. We all know better. We've read the stories. We all know that idols are carved statues,
right? But one look at the visceral
reaction that many people have had to these types of changes and you know the
heart is involved. The church had
American Idols way before Fox network.
This is a symptom of an affliction which infects many of us
from time to time. We so strongly desire
a “visible” quality to our “invisible” spirituality that we will accept almost
anything. We are generally uncomfortable
with the metaphysically mysterious. We
seem bound to find something material to validate the reality of our spiritual
existence. Something isn't real until we
can see it or touch it. We want these
various objects; pews, robes, and bulletins, to be the evidence of our
spiritual status. We want them to
silently affirm our relationship with the Almighty; that we are OK. Has our spirituality become so pathetically
inert that we have settled wood, cloth, and paper to encourage us in being the
church?
Maybe, just maybe these items are doing quite the
opposite. They may be the very witnesses
against us that we have lost the heart of what it means to be the church. The Apostle Paul suggests that one of the
marks of the last days is “having a form of godliness but denying its’
power.” Have we been pretending to be spiritual
giants by parading about with sacred clothes, furniture and paper?
Moses asked the best question ever. “What will distinguish us from all the
peoples of the earth other than your Presence God?” No amount of tents or trunks or candlesticks
or bread loaves will do. Only the
Presence of God Almighty would make the difference. It is alone the distinguishing mark of
identification.
Now I am all for pillars of smoke and fire. I could be really jazzed about a heavenly
cloud forming in the ceiling of the sanctuary.
Hey, even a self-ripping tapestry would be very cool. But all of those sights could be cleverly
manufactured by creative humans. All
this may have already been done in some sanctuary near you. To my way of
thinking, the indisputable manifestation of the Presence of God is a
transformed life. A transformed life that
then finds a home in a group of people who are being continually
transformed. Together they learn to “un-naturally”
love one another and the world around them.
Clearly, a God is thing.
But, I appreciate God’s sensitivity to us tactile
types. He knew there would be those of
us that needed something we could see, taste, and touch to really understand
the message of His Presence and work among us. So, He gave us the sacraments (ordinances, if
you prefer) of Communion, Baptism, and Foot Washing. These external manifestations are a tangible reminder
of His work and presence with us and in us.
So, please don’t start burning pews and robes and
bulletins. There is nothing inherently
evil about them. But neither is there
some inherently sacred about them. What
we must do is re-examine our measure of what makes a group of people the Body
of Christ.
What can we strip away from the church still be the
church? Why aren't we?
Or maybe, I’m just sitting in my own pew.
