Sunday, August 22, 2010

Pillars of the Church are Often Made of Salt

Lot’s wife was forced to leave her home through no fault of her own. Sodom was a sinful city. God allowed Lot and his family to escape from the city’s destruction. The only warning was not to look back. But, Lot’s wife couldn’t resist the tug of her old life. Her sin was to look back at the place they needed to leave. She longed for her home, for her belongings, her friends. But the city was incinerated because it was also full of sin.


Turning to salt isn’t a good thing. It’s the end. It’s the statue that remains of what we used to be. It’s the net result of looking back over our shoulder. Like the Daniel Amos song, we “take too many trips down memory lane.” Then, we are only worth our salt.


The tendency to live in the mode of looking backward is a hallmark of the “Pillar of the Church.” Church pillars, of course, are those people who are the kingpins of the church, the leaders, the reliable old “saints.” But I’ve also heard the “pillars of the church” defined as the people who hold up the church and block vision.


Have you ever heard this phrase in a church? “We’ve always done it that way.” If you ask a pillar of the church why the sacred cow programs exist, they will often say “because we’ve always done it that way.” There’s no thought to whether they are effective in achieving anything or if they are the best use of money and time, much less if they are reaching the lost or not. Those programs just exist because that’s what the church pillars sees as he looks over his shoulder at the burning embers of what used to be effective. But those programs have long since been subject to the sins of pride and human tradition.


Should we consider whether our churches are being effective at reaching the lost? Should we eliminate antiquated, ineffective programs in order to fulfill the Great Commission? The Church Pillar thinks not. Instead, the pillar believes the church needs to continue programming on the basis that it makes the church people happy, creates a comfortable homelike feeling, and helps them enjoy “going to church.” Every time a new initiative aimed at reaching the lost is rejected (be they “contemporary” worship, creating new uses for the facility, transitioning away from traditional Sunday School, etc.) in favor of the status quo, you can taste the salt in the air.


It goes beyond mere church programming and into the heart of the pillar of the church. The church pillar also looks to the past as the high point of his own spirituality and of the church. “I was brought into this church 80 years ago when I was 2 weeks old.” Translation: “This is my church and you’ll have to put me in a box before you change it.” Another saying: “I was saved 54 years ago,” said by a bitter woman who has been mad at every pastor since 1960-something. But ask her about her current walk with Christ, the people she’s impacting for the Kingdom and you’ll get the blank stare of a salty statue. Another favorite: “That church hasn’t had good music for years.” (I will write another time on cultural relevance in music. Suffice it to say that we don’t throw theology out the window in the name of relevance.) What the person really means by that is: “I don’t care if our band is helping us reach people, I don’t find the music as entertaining as Lawrence Welk.” Another great one, "they took away my ministry." The meaning of this sentence is really: "all I did at the church was sing in the choir and we don't have one now so I can't be on the platform anymore." And finally, said with a great deal of pious pride (I heard this at my previous church): “we used to be a church of 1000.” This actually meant that they had a thousand members on paper but never averaged above 490 in their heyday in the 1940s. Salt, salt, salt, all of them said by pillars of salt.


The sad truth for the pillar of the church is that the best really is in the past. The church services that meant something to them are gone. The experience of the close-felt reality of God is a thing remembered only. The worship services where they raised hands, or shed tears, or prayed earnestly are all decades ago. The problem is that pillars of salt have no current spiritual experiences any more than the statue in the Lincoln Memorial can preside over our nation.


It is very dangerous to look only to the things better left behind: our old life, our old spiritual experience, the things that worked at our church in yesteryear, even our sinful ways. But, the churchist can’t resist. Yet, every time we gaze behind us too long, we lose our direction because we can’t see our destination.


Pastor, resist listening to salty statues. As much as we'd like to stay and reminisce about the places we leave behind, God calls us away. It's no fault of our own. The past just needs to be left behind. Listen instead to the living Holy Spirit who will direct your path into the future. Leave the past behind and press on toward the mark which is the call of Christ.

1 comment:

  1. A pastor friend of mine who is also a forester was asked to evaluate the state of our church. He concluded after study and in Forester terms that we are an aging church. He said that it was good in one sense as the towering tress stand as pillars of faith and the lasting work of God in the church, but he also said that it was bad in that the towering trees blocked the sunlight that would help the young tress to grow. The solution was to chop down the towering pillars and use them in a different capacity like in building, furniture etc. Then the young tress could grow to be the new pillars. To this the towering pillars of the church said "thank you" to him and carried on as usual ;) Check out my blog Openhorn@blogspot.

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