Last week you seemed to get a big charge out of my little story about going to a wedding rehearsal and wasting time waiting for a key person to arrive. When I said that I didn’t know what we’d do on Sunday afternoon if he didn’t show up, you let out a belly laugh. You assumed I was talking about the groom.
Actually, I was not. I was talking about the rabbi. This was an interfaith wedding, with a Baptist bride and a Jewish groom. You will be relieved to know that the rabbi did show up, so did everybody else, and the wedding went off well.
But I learned that there was something else missing on this occasion. I learned that something else was not in place. The bride was there, the groom was there, the minister and the rabbi did their things. The organist played, the soloist sang, the trumpeter trumped, the mothers wept and the fathers added up the bills. Everything was in place, except for one thing – there was no congregation. There was no community surrounding this young couple. Their families were there, and a few close friends, but the chapel was nearly empty. A vast, beautifully kept space, but nearly empty.
In fact, I learned that that’s the rule in that space. We were at the Chapel on the grounds of the Naval Security Station at Ward Circle. A lovely place, originally built for Mt. Vernon College. But I was told that there was no worshipping congregation in this chapel. No one comes there on Sunday mornings, no chaplain serves the base, no spiritual nurture goes on there. It is for ceremonial use only – for weddings, for funerals, for retirements. People come to the Navy Chapel for rituals, but there is no community there to love it, to cherish it, to make it alive with the sound of children’s laughter or the weeping of souls in anguish. It’s just a place of ritual. Otherwise, it’s dead. Dry and dead.
Some folks think of all churches in those terms. Ceremonial, ritual, performance. In fact, we have a term for it in ministerial circles. Pastors speak about how we are expected to be up and running when people hatch, match, or dispatch. Baptisms, weddings, and funerals. The great ritual moments of life. People expect the church to be ready when they hatch, match, or dispatch. But I tell you, all those rituals are empty of power if they are not done in a vital community of God’s people. All of these are empty ceremony unless they are set in the midst of a people who are about the Lord’s business, and who can see the power of the Lord at work bringing new life.
Take hatching, for instance. When we celebrate a new life, we do it in the setting of the community, because that life is given by God to all of us. Parents bring their baby to promise that they will raise that child in the fellowship of the church. Infant dedications are not magic words said over the baby to give some sort of protection; they are a solemn promise that the parents will raise the child in the arms of the church, and the church promises to embrace the child. New life! Or if it’s the baptism of a new believer, we do that in the setting of public worship, because the person is being baptized in order to demonstrate his witness to the people of God. Except in extreme circumstances, we don’t do private baptisms, because that would be beside the point. Baptism is a public witness. Without that, baptism would be nothing more than empty ritual. The church is about new life and not about mere ceremony. The church is more than hatch, match, and dispatch. The church is a steward of new life.
Or weddings. Matching. I always tell couples that my intention is not to do a wedding ceremony. That gets their attention! I tell them I am not interested in just doing wedding ceremonies! If that’s all they want, get a judge to sign the license and get it over with. But I am interested in helping them make a marriage! We work on marriages rather than just run weddings. Weddings last for a few minutes; marriages are to be built so that they will last for a lifetime. The church is more than ceremony. The church is so much more than hatch, match, and dispatch. The church is a steward of new life.
And even when the end of life comes, and someone wants a funeral service, all too often there is the expectation that the church will fix everything that was broken in this life and will preach the deceased into heaven, saying flowery things, with maudlin poetry and soppy songs. Some of the most unpleasant experiences of my ministry have come when I’ve been asked by one of the local funeral homes to provide a funeral service for someone who had no church connection and whose family is out of touch with all things spiritual. I do my best to point to the source of hope and life, but for the most part I get empty stares and muffled cliches. They just don’t get it, if they’ve never been a part of a spiritual family. The church is about so much more than providing ceremonial proprieties when someone dies. The church is the steward of life. So much more than hatch, match, or dispatch. We are the steward of new life.
There was no more traumatic time in the history of the people of God than the sixth century before Christ. 2600 years ago Judah had been destroyed, its leaders taken into exile. It looked as though their humiliation was complete, and that their nation would never thrive again. They felt no hope. They were ready to give up. But into their midst came one of the strangest personalities of all history, the prophet Ezekiel. I tell you, you would probably not invite Ezekiel to your dinner table, not unless you just happen to like people who go into trances. Ezekiel would not be your choice of party guest, unless you consider it entertaining to have somebody around falling into a stupor and saying mysterious things. Nonetheless, through this unusual man, God spoke a word of hope to a dry and weary land. And I believe God can speak that same word of hope to His church today.
Ezekiel saw in his vision a valley. The valley was one where a tremendous battle had been fought. Obviously the battle had exacted a tremendous toll. The valley was now strewn with the bodies of the slaughtered. And not just lifeless bodies, but dry bones. They had been there so long, rotting in that valley, that their flesh was gone and there was nothing left but a heap of dry bones. Can you imagine anything more hopeless? Can you think of anything more lifeless than dry bones rattling around in the wind? And so you and I know the answer, don’t we, when God asks Ezekiel, “Can these bones live?” Can these bones live? Of course not! How can a valley of dry bones live? How can folks who have long since given up – how can a crowd like that live?
But God gives life. God gives life! Where there is doubt, God gives confidence. Where there is anxiety, God gives peace. Where there is despair, God gives hope. And where there is death, God gives life! Even to dry bones. Even to a church that is only ritual, hatch, match, and dispatch. God gives life!
I
Will you notice, first, that when God gives life to His people, He does it thoroughly? He does it completely. When God gives life to dry bones, as Ezekiel saw it, He will put everything in place. He will leave nothing out.
Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: “I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the LORD."
When God gives life to His church, it is not in a puny, little way. It is in a great way. A full-bodied way. God wants His church to be complete. God wants His church to be more than bare bones. “I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live.” God wants His people to have a full and wonderful life.
Some churches have a narrow vision. They are about one thing and one thing only. One church was until recently led by a pastor whose passion was foreign missions. He so profoundly believed in foreign missions that he led that church to give more than half of the church budget to missions. That’s passion! And that’s good – but the church is more than missions.
Another church in our city is led by a pastor who wanted to make that church an event center. That’s his word for it, not mine. An event center. He got money to hire the most spectacular musicians around, he persuaded the church to build a sanctuary with exceptional acoustics and audiovisual equipment. He created a spiritual show unexcelled anywhere. I am not criticizing. I am simply reporting. It’s grown that church into large numbers. It works, if that’s what you are after. Performance. But the church is more than performance. The church needs flesh and sinew on the bare bones.
I for one have never been able to simplify the vision of what Takoma Park Baptist Church ought to be. I see evangelism as just as important as education, and worship as just as significant as pastoral care, and ministry and missions as indispensable. I think we have to do it all. I believe that the way God gives life to His church is to give us completeness. God gives life thoroughly. If we are the stewards of new life, we must be more and do more. More in evangelism, as long as there are lost people around us. More in discipleship, as long as there are people in spiritual childhood. More in skill training, as long as there are those with gifts to be grown. More in ministry, as long as there are hurting people. More than bare bones. Sinews and flesh and skin. Stewards of new life.
The story is told of a tour group going through Westminster Abbey in London. They were shown all the symbols of Britain’s history. They saw the place where the monarchs are crowned. They visited the tombs and the memorials to the nation’s greatness. It was a wonderful trip backwards in time. But one member of the tour group piped up and asked the guide a searching question. Said she, “Sir, has anybody been saved here lately?” I suggest that that is always the right question for anybody’s church. “Has anybody been saved here lately?” We are so much more than ceremonial, so much more than history, so much more than narrow vision. We are so much more than hatch, match, and dispatch. We are the stewards of new life. Let’s do it thoroughly.
II
Next, I want you to notice that when God’s spirit gives new life to His people, He gives a rich variety of gifts. He gives gifts that go beyond what we expected. I believe that God wants His church to draw on all of the gifts that He gives.
Ezekiel’s imagery is very striking. Remember that his vision is of a valley of dry bones. Every time the wind blows the bones stir. In the immortal words of Chuck Berry, “Shake, rattle, and roll”! When the winds blew through the valley, these sad remains stir and shift and make noise, but they still do not live. After all, you can be plenty busy, rattling around and making noise, but still not really doing anything.
But let the winds of God blow, and something quite different happens! Let the breath of God, the giver of life, be breathed on dry bones, and something extraordinary happens:
I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.
“Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds … and breathe upon these … that they may live.” The “four winds” represents the wonderful diversity of sources from which our God gives us life. The text says that the Lord put flesh and sinews and skin on, but there still wasn’t any life. No life until He breathed from the four winds. From every corner of the earth. From every nation, every place, every culture, every race.
You see, part of Judah’s problem was that they no longer reached out to anybody. They thought they had God all wrapped up for themselves. They thought they were the ones who knew how to be God’s people, so let the others learn from us. But when God gave them life, He brought life from the four winds. He brought life through diversity.
Takoma Park Baptist Church has long prided itself on being a multicultural church. At least that’s what we have said we are. But I suggest to you that until we truly reach out, understand, and embrace people who are not only racially different, but also philosophically different, with different personalities and different skills, we will be far less than what God wants us to be. We need to draw life from the four winds. We need to draw on all the gifts that a life-giving God has given us.
In Lexington, Kentucky, Margaret and I were members of a church, which served a university community. Our church thought of itself as sophisticated, educated, and gifted. But we found out there were gifts that we weren’t using, and that until we used those gifts, we didn’t have all the life the Lord wanted us to have.
One spring, our assistant pastor suggested that instead of the usual fare of Wednesday night dinners and prayer meeting, we go out on the church parking lot and hold open-air clinics. If you had a skill, come out there and offer it, and let the community benefit. What gifts came out that we didn’t even know were gifts! One man was a professor of veterinary medicine. On Wednesday nights, he would look at your dog and cat and demonstrate that the church cared about both you and your furry friends. Another man was an auto mechanic. Nobody had ever asked him to teach a Sunday School class, nobody could imagine him being a deacon. But he had the gift of listening to your clunker, and with a few deft turns of the wrench, he could get it back on the road. He managed to show you that God’s people care.
Others gave gifts. Homemakers showed college students how to cook on a budget. Seamstresses hooked up sewing machines and took care of buttons and bows, right there on the church parking lot. And the beauty of it was not only the witness it made to the community; the beauty of it was that we learned to use the richly diverse gifts God had given to our church. Our church came alive, because we saw that God had brought us far more than we knew we had.
God has brought to Takoma Park Baptist Church gifts from the four winds, from many places and from all sorts of backgrounds. Until we use those gifts, however, we can have all the church program we want, all the activities we want, all the busyness we can handle. But if it is done by the same leaders who have been doing it for lo these many years, it will not bring the life the Lord wants us to have. If the work is done by the staff, then the game is over. We have lost. Life comes when we draw from the four winds and let the full range of God’s gifts blow through us. I know just about everybody in this room, and I don’t know anyone that doesn’t have some gift of use to the church and to the Kingdom.
We are blessed. We have much. We are diverse. It’s all here for a purpose. It’s here to make a difference in people’s lives. We are here not just to be spectators of others’ performances. We are stewards of new life. We are so much more than hatch, match, and dispatch. We are stewards of new life.
III
I am persuaded beyond all doubt that God is at work here. The issue is always whether you and I will see Him at work, or will see only the dry bones of the past. The issue is always whether we see possibilities, or whether we find ourselves mired down in quicksand, sinking fast. If you only look at what’s on the surface, you might feel disappointment and despair. But if you see what God sees, you’ll see more.
Then he said to me, "Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ’Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord GOD: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the LORD, have spoken and will act," says the LORD.
If you only look on the surface of this church, maybe all you see is dry bones. You may see aging leaders, a deteriorating building, some committees that don’t commit much. But I don’t think that’s all the Lord sees. The Lord sees new people coming to Christ and asking for help in gaining new life. The Lord sees more children showing up for Saturday Club and Sunday School and Children’s Choir. The Lord sees six or eight people who have declared that they feel His call into ministry. The Lord sees an emerging family life program. The Lord sees a complex of properties that could be used for Kingdom work. The Lord sees a people who are waking up to deeper learning. The Lord sees a church jam packed with potential. And all it takes is the vision to understand what God wants to do.
A friend told me a story recently about a church and one of its leaders. That church leader saw a need and caught a vision of what to do about it. In that community marriages were breaking up and young people were hurting. So that person caught a vision of new life and started a Divorce Recovery Group. But what happened? The pastor of that church looked at a Divorce Recovery Group and saw only dry bones. He said, “Divorce is not something we want to talk about it our church.” And the vision was snuffed out. How sad! The church is not just nice clean ceremony. The church is not just what we’ve always done. The church is the steward of new life for hurting people.
We are on the edge of a new day in our church’s life. New people, new ideas, new energies, new vision. God-given vision. God-breathed life. I urge you to give yourself to this emerging vision. I find no better place than this church for more than ten percent of my income. I find no better place than this for my personal gifts to be invested. I find no better place than this for the dry bones of my heart to be blown into new life.
You say, but pastor, what about me? Will I get my needs met in all of this? Will I be spiritually fed? Feed me too. Feed me first. To that I respond that the only people I know of who have to be fed by others are either infants, who haven’t learned to feed themselves; or couples getting married, who stuff cake into one another’s mouths; or dying people, too weak to help themselves any longer. Everybody else can feed from the bounty spread on the Lord’s table. The church is a whole lot more than hatch, match, and dispatch. The church is the steward of new life.
