A part of me thought, I might be able to leave it all behind in 2015. But I still find myself, every Sunday morning…mourning (yet with hope). My emotions feel messy; my mind seems muddled; my words fall flat. I still feel eternally hopeful, yet also so very deeply sad. In a sense, I guess that’s a good thing. It means I’ve loved her until the end. I will miss Hilltop because she was so good and kind to me. I feel like I gave her my all too.
I’m still reminded: I’ve just walked through one of the most difficult callings of my life—to close a church. It’s been a battle not to close off a part of my heart too. Visiting new churches… it’s been a little like trying to date again, after losing a spouse. You ask yourself: “Do I have the emotional energy to start all over again?” You know love is worth it…but you remember what a chore dating can be. And of course it feels everyone “has a friend,” has a site to recommend, has an opinion after the fact.
What complicates it more…I was an elder, a teacher, a preacher, a shepherd. God has called me to lead through some difficult seasons of differing ministries. And I’m beginning to wonder: am I called to be the anti-Midas? Touch it, so it will dissolve. Yes, that is very self-centered thinking, I know. The call is to be faithful no matter what. Though, I’d honestly love the “what” to be ten years in one place.
One of my favorite poems is “Verses upon the Burning of Our House” by the Puritan poet, Anne Bradstreet. In it, she challenges her heart to look to the worth of heaven’s treasure, instead of what’s left of her earthly goods. It’s a great poem.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172963
Yet, I haven’t been feeling very poetic . A friend told me, “After all this, you should write a book!” I chuckled, because I wondered: would it really sell? I’m not sure I’ll be getting many invitations to speak at the conferences, or headline the commercial church acts, with what I have to write and where I’ve travelled. My new bestseller: “Honoring Christ by Death: How to close a church.” That was the time… well, that’s where I am now. Or where I was. It’s hard to pick a verb tense after a death.
Yet even in that death, I do hope that I… know that we… have sought to honor Christ. We didn’t close due to any fighting or sin issue or division. It was simply due to the economics…a declining, aging congregation, no longer able to afford the real estate. In fact, there had been a lot of healing, and we were able to die with dignity, using our strength to bless another—all while loving one another. We entrusted the building to a sister ministry, who will be planting a mission church for the area in 2016.
One may ask: So what Verses does one share upon the closing of a church? Well, really we got to share the second half of the verse and story. You know, the parts we sometimes like to skip over—the third lyric we don’t always like to sing. We like to say: “Follow Him! To live is Christ! Rejoice with those who rejoice! We are the aroma of life! Know His resurrection power! I can do all things through Him!”
There is the other half too; the dying to self, which feels like death: “Take up the cross. To die is gain. Weep with those who weep. We are the stench of death, to those perishing. Share in His sufferings. I can do nothing apart from Him.” He’s letting me feel that nothingness—which is, I believe, a grace.
Some have said: “The church is just a building. People are the Church.” That’s true. But people are also jars of clay. And Jesus still loves them infinitely. That building is a house of bricks. But it also founded precious memories… and was built by the surpassing power belonging to God:
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you. (2 Corinthians 4:7-12)Death was at work in us; while we pray for abundant life in the new ministry there.
And as the hymn goes; “When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be! When we all see Jesus, we’ll sing and shout the victory!”
Still, it’s hard. But please hear: this is not meant to be a pity post. And I don’t want to sound without hope, or embittered. In fact, as funny as it sounds: I don’t think I’d change a thing. Because this is “all things pertaining to life.” Yes, even the Christian life! It’s not all roses and sunshine and unicorns.
But it is about faith and hope and love. We are humbled under His mighty hand, His proper timing, and His gracious care. I’m getting to experience it all. The joy of a disciple is getting to share all things with his Master. He’s letting me sow in tears. “Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! (Psalm 126:5)” {May it be so, Lord; I trust that is the closing chapter…}
For now, I’ll let Anne Bradstreet close this one too:
Thou hast a house on high erect
Framed by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent though this be fled.
It‘s purchased and paid for too
By Him who hath enough to do.
A price so vast as is unknown,
Yet by His gift is made thine own;
There‘s wealth enough, I need no more,
Farewell, my pelf, farewell, my store.
The world no longer let me love,
My hope and treasure lies above.
