A Premature Obituary

This post was written by a brother in Christ who lives in California amongst a group of believers in the Dublin area, and within a network of house churches around Northern California.

He serves Christ's Body as a pastor and makes tents as a music teacher, and writes some beautiful things from our Lord.



I never would have believed a word of prophecy could come through the toothless grin of this eccentric old codger. But then, who am I to determine the instrument through whom God chooses to speak the truth to His children, even when that truth may not be recognized for fifteen years? The northern California church where I served as an associate pastor had a member who was employed as the administrator for a local nursing home. Knowing that I used to be a professional musician she would prevail upon me from time to time to bring some live entertainment to the elderly patrons in her care. As you might have guessed performing for a group of disinterested geriatric inmates, most of whom couldn’t hear a bomb exploding in the same room without their hearing aids, was not one of my favorite pastimes.



At their age most of them had either forgotten or conveniently dismissed any conception of audience etiquette. While I was performing they would get up and walk around, talk loudly to each other, talk to me (“Hey, who are you?” “What are you doing here?”), try to sing along (and not even come close to being on pitch or even singing the same song), and make disgusting noises (which I couldn’t get away with even when I was a kid). Once while I was playing my cello a woman snuck up behind me and hit me on the top of my head (everyone’s a critic). I trust J. S. Bach will forgive me for dropping a few of his notes…along with my bow.



The undercover prophet was in the audience the day I decided to bring my guitar and sing a few Christian choruses and hymns which I hoped would be a little more appreciated. They pushed him into the assembly room in a wheel chair and placed him about ten feet in front of me. He looked to be slightly younger than the solar system and barely heavy enough to keep his grey warm-up suit from sliding off his chair. His skin displayed more wrinkles than a Bassett hound and less hair than a billiard ball. His lips were recessed into the gap where his teeth used to be and his hands resembled a skeleton that had been spray-painted. Were it not for his continual groaning throughout the concert he could have been mistaken for a cadaver. His eyes, however, sparkled with life and good cheer revealing that a positive attitude could be the reason behind his longevity.



I was about two-thirds of the way through my program thinking I might just escape the concert unscathed when the ancient one began to empty the contents of his stomach all over his grey warm-up suit, his wheelchair, and the floor. I was astonished that so much volume could have come from such a meager source. Oh, great, I thought, another critic. I was in the process of trying to decide whether or not to continue singing when the ailing geriatric wonder opened his mouth and brought the curtain down on my performance.



“I’m sick,” he yelled loudly enough for the nursing staff in the adjoining room to hear. “I’m sick,” he screamed again even louder.



By this time, having been upstaged by a more aggressive actor, I came to the conclusion that my role in this musical comedy had come to an end. After thanking the rest of the audience I quickly began putting my guitar into its case in an attempt to flee from the surrounding insanity and the slightly used, three course meal which lay fermenting on the floor.



“I’m sick,” the agitated old man persisted unable to see a white-smocked attendant rushing to his rescue. “I’m sick,” he bellowed one last time and then, in a flash of eternal optimism, with a twinkling of his spirited eyes, he added, “but I’m not dead!”



Why would I call this man a prophet? The Lord brought this humorous incident to mind the other day as I was bewailing the demise of the conventional church in this culture. I can’t remember how long it has been since that nursing home fiasco has crossed my mind, but the actual incident occurred over fifteen years ago. Its sudden incongruous appearance in my thoughts leads me to believe God was using this memory to send a message. “The body of Christ in the western world is sick, but not dead.” He is far more optimistic about the future of His Church than most of its critics, including myself for which I humbly repent. It is an unfortunate case of a premature obituary.



There is little doubt that the conventional church in this country is ailing. Christian pollster, George Barna, alarmingly reveals that a million believers are leaving their padded pews behind every year. What’s the reason for this massive exodus? According to Reggie NcNeal in his book, The Present Future: Six Tough Questions for the Church, “They are not leaving because they have lost faith. They are leaving the church to preserve their faith.” Ouch, that hurts! But I’m, afraid there’s more bad news. Ronald J. Sider in his book, The Scandal of the Evangelical conscience, explores such moral subjects as materialism, divorce, sexual immorality, and racism in America. Collating findings from several national polls he reveals that there is virtually no moral difference between those who attend church on Sundays and those who do not. The bride of Christ in this culture is wrinkled, toothless, over-the-hill, and stained with the filth of the world. We have sunk into the affluence, apathy, and “lukewarm-ness” of the church of Laodicea and the Lord has every right to “vomit” us out of His mouth (Rev. 3:16).



Now that I’ve hit you over the head with the disheartening diagnosis, allow me to share a word from the Healer’s perspective. The Church is indeed sick, but she is not dead, and I do not believe the Lord is about to abandon the bride He loves. In a passage of Scripture normally used in conjunction with a wedding ceremony we get a glimpse of Christ’s love for the Church. Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless…no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church—for we are members of his body. – Eph. 5:25-30. Christ is not going to leave His bride languishing on her death bed. After all, He never attended a funeral He didn’t spoil with a resurrection. I am convinced He earnestly desires to heal His Church, but does the Church earnestly desire to be healed?



If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land. – 2Chron. 7:14. It is time for Christians in this country to stop looking at this passage solely as a geo-political directive and start seeing it for what it truly is, an imperative for the Kingdom of God.



Does this mean our churches will one day soon begin filling up with people again? I believe they will, but they likely won’t resemble the conventional churches we know today. Certainly it won’t happen without our humble earnest prayers nor will it occur without turning from our current human-ordained ways. The walls of denominationalism will have to be breached, the gap between the professional clergy and the “pew-sitters” will have to be bridged, the enormous amount of capital being poured into property and programs will have to be redirected toward ministry and charity, and church leaders across this land will have to turn over the complete control of their ministries to the Holy Spirit. Impossible, you say? What is impossible with men is possible with God. – Lk. 18:27. In fact, it is already happening.



All across this country God is raising up an army of intercessors who are humbly crying out to heaven for a healing in the bride of Christ and a revival in this land. Denominational walls are crumbling; average church members are planting new congregations; groups of believers are investing their finances in local community ministries rather than erecting their own temples. Revival is on its way! Yes, I believe the house church movement is a large part of what God is doing right now in terms of revitalizing His Church. But God is up to so much more! I am convinced renewal will eventually touch every corner of His Kingdom.



I am reminded of Jairus, the synagogue ruler who humbly begged Jesus to come to his house and heal his dying daughter. On their way to his house he learns that his daughter has already died. It is another premature obituary. “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed,” Jesus tells him. When they arrived at Jairus’ house the professional mourners were already busy with their wailing. Jesus rebuked them and proclaimed “She is not dead but asleep.” He then took the girl by the hand and said, “My child, get up!”…and she did! (Lk. 8:40-56).



In spite of the present condition of the Church in this country, reports of her demise are premature. The old nursing home prophet got it right. “I’m sick, but I’m not dead.” “Don’t be afraid; just believe…” God is about to do amazing things in His Kingdom.



The ailing / sleeping bride waits for the voice of her Lord. “My child, get up!”



Even now she awakens.



Even now she begins to stir.





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