The Church–past, present, and future

As I look at the variety of books on church growth, church organizational patterns, church trends, and church management, I see an unsettling trend. Either the book is focused on maintaining the past–reliving the traditions and experiences of the past–or it is focused on continuing what is currently working–maintaining forever today’s models–or it is focused on pressing past everything that we have known to find an entirely new way of thinking. You may ask, “Well, doesn’t that cover all the bases? One of them should be right.” But my fear is that in the press of conversation about the church, we lose balance.

A church that is focused on the past cannot be a living church. Instead, it is a re-living church.

Just as a person with Alzheimer’s can waste away while reliving the experiences of the past, a church that focuses on reliving the past will die. This church may be living off of fat stores for the present, but it does nothing to ensure for itself a future. This church will die.

The church that is focused on the present is a selfish church. It is the narcissist church that insists upon forever maintaining itself as the star–not realizing that as the context changes, it must change to be effective. This church is forever keeping up with itself–never looking forward with dreams, never looking backward to correct mistakes. It is rudderless–directionless. This church will fail.

The church that is focused on the future is a pointless church. In its quest to be church of the future, its only definition is in rejecting past and present. This church dreams but does not accomplish, plans
but never executes. How can it, when the moment the future arrives it becomes nothing more than the present, and swiftly the past? This church is anchorless–having nothing to keep it from being blown about by every wind and wave.

What then should the church look like? How does a church avoid these pitfalls?

One of the most common injunctions throughout the Scriptures is to remember. Exodus 13:3 gives a stirring command to remember: “Remember this day in which you went out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage; for by strength of hand the Lord brought you out of this place.” In Exodus 20, the people were told to “remember
the Sabbath.” Throughout Deuteronomy, the injunction to remember brought with it both a warning and an encouragement. Remember God’s judgment and fear. Remember God’s mercy and obey. Remember what God has spoken. Remember God’s greatness. In the New Testament, we are told to remember Christ’s words. We are given the rite of Communion “in remembrance” of Christ. The church can not and must not disobey what is so obviously a part of the Christian life: Remembering the Past.

Paul’s life and letters clearly demonstrate the importance of the church being within the present. Paul’s epistles were not so much letters of remembrance or letters of vision casting than letters grounded in the current events of the church. Paul was busy dealing with the contemporary needs of the church–II Corinthians 8 refers to the physical needs of the church in Jerusalem and how the Corinthian church was going about meeting them. Galatians
addresses the immediate theological needs of the church of Galatia. The words of Christ also portray this present tense activity of the church. The teaching of Christ is not merely stories of the past nor prophecy of the future. Christ commanded concerning the present. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “When you bring your gift to the altar…” “Strive to enter through the narrow gate.” These are not injunctions of the past, nor dreams for the future. This is a present day command. The church can not and must not stray from what is so obviously a part of the Christian life: Being relevant in the Present.

One cannot read the Bible without gaining an overwhelming sense of the future. The prophecies of Daniel and Revelation put shivers down spines, but even without getting into “end time theology”, the future is an integral part of Scripture. Jesus’ prayer in John 17 is directed not only at the current believers, but at those who would come. The Great Commission, while being a present command, conveys a heady promise of the future. “And Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Paul preached of the greatness of the inheritance that will be revealed. Romans 8:23-25 says, “Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for
it with perseverance.” The church can not and must not fail to possess what is so obviously a part of the Christian life: Hope for the Future.

As a church, we must press past a time frame or a verb tense. We must refrain from arguing opinion. We must lay aside the idea that progress comes by throwing out the old, or that continuing the old is progress. We must recognize the value of God’s progression of history–how the past shapes our present, which in turn shapes the future. We must recognize our role as facilitators of the narrative of God’s story. We are not the author of the story, we are merely participants in a chapter of the story. We cannot break out of the narrative to begin a new story. No, we must take the chapter we
have been given and continue the story on.


On revival, renewal, and reformation

There was a day in the life of my church when we talked about revival, renewal, and reformation a lot. Now that day seems like only a memory. We ached for revival–the refilling of old wineskins, the refueling of empty lamps, the reenergizing of old and weary Christians. We longed for renewal–when new wine would be poured into new wineskins, when new bodies would be exchanged for old. We prayed for reformation–when the old would be put away with for good and we would be victorious forever. We saw that something was wrong with where we were and we desired that God would move us from where we were.

Somehow, though, we lost that yearning for a move of God. As church size dwindled, we started to look for church growth strategies. Lost in a mire of books and problems, we asked ourselves not “where is God?” but “Where are the people?” We forgot that where God is, He grows. And church size continued to decline. We were in maintenance mode and no one knew it. Maintaining the nursery, maintaining Sunday School, maintaining the youth group. We were maintaining much as a Nurse readjusts a barely living person in there hospital bed in a desperate, last ditch attempt against bed sores. But it hasn’t helped. The programs may still be holding on by a thread, but the church within is practically dead.

Somewhere, in the midst of our trials, we forgot to hope in God. We forgot that the one who began a work in us has promised to be faithful to complete it. We got busy trying to do God’s job. And we failed miserably. Instead of joining God in what He’s doing, we decided to think something up and ask God to join us. Instead
of asking for direction, we started looking behind us, asking Him to clear up our mistakes. We lost the sense of God, and we stagnated. We shunned the Holy Spirit, and we are dying. We tried to save on our own and have found nothing but bondage.

What has happened to the God who does miracles? What has happened to the God who speaks to His people? What has happened to the God who changes lives? Nothing has happened to God. It is only that the church has failed to reflect Him.

I was a young teen during those days of longing for revival, renewal, reformation. I was overwhelmed by the story of Moses on the mountaintop, who after seeing the glory of God, came away with a shining face. His face was so bright that they had to stick a veil over it so that it did not hurt the eyes of the Israelites. I wanted so badly to have an encounter with God that would leave me blinding. I wanted an encounter that would make everyone around me know that I had met God. I still think that kind of encounter would be cool, but I gave up hoping that it would happen. II Corinthians 3:18 reminds us of this encounter and points us forward, “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.” As we look at God, we are changed into His likeness. We are transformed to be more like Him. And our faces are not veiled–we are a shining example of Christ’s likeness. Why is it then that when I walk into church, no one has a glowing face? Why do not more lives show the transforming power of Christ?

Perhaps it is because we fail to behold the glory of the Lord. To walk into our churches, could anyone tell that a powerful, living God dwells therein? The cares and worries that overwhelm the church clutter the power of God. The multitude of our words clamour above the still small voice that speaks a Living Word. Our prayers are not accessing an all powerful God. Instead they exhort a weak man. But what are our words, what are our cares, what are our prayers if God is not our Life? We are pointless, dead, dying, irrelevant.

Lord, awaken in Your church a hunger for Your face. Teach us to desire Your presence, to long for Your voice. Help us to seek Your presence, and the transformation that only You can bring. Let us grow tired of man’s answers, and instead let us thirst for Your voice. We don’t need a new program. We don’t need a new solution. We don’t need more people. We need You. Teach us to desire You with all our hearts.