Transforming Church

Beverly is a Wilderness First Responder, training as part of the Volunteer Medical Corps for disasters and emergencies. “Do you have your CPR mask,” the woman asked? “I don’t want to start mouth-to-mouth without it.” Beverly replied, “I will.” She took off up the trail, dropping her pack for us to bring along.

We arrived at the scene about a quarter mile up the trail. Beverly and an EMT who happened by had started CPR. Beverly was rapidly organizing a response. One person was sent 5 miles down the dirt road to an emergency phone. She found another with an emergency transponder, and had him activate it. A good dozen people were standing around, so with nothing else we could do, we left Beverly and headed up the trail, quite shaken. I prayed silently for the man and his family as we headed up.

As we neared the divide with our cousins, we heard the Life Flight helicopter coming up the canyon. It took at least an hour for help to arrive. The man had looked unresponsive when we saw him. When the helicopter lifted off 15 minutes later, and headed on across the divide, instead of heading back to Boulder, we knew the man had died.

We were most of the way back to the trailhead when we encountered Beverly coming up to meet us. “I never had any idea how tiring it is to keep up CPR for over an hour,” she said, “even though his pupils were fixed, I wasn’t going to stop until help got here.” Then, she staid with the man’s girlfriend on the scene until people got there to take her home.

She volunteers with the Sheriff’s office doing Restorative Justice programs, and knew that they always treat sudden deaths as a possible crime scene. She knew the questions to ask, and interviewed the distraught woman and wrote out a report for the coroner. Beverly’s Wilderness First Responder training had been tested in the back country before, but this was the first time she did CPR for real.

A God Moment
The cousins visiting us that day are unchurched, and don’t seem to claim any belief in God. When we were all back in the car, debriefing Beverly on her experience, I said, “This was a God moment. Something told me to call you last night and invite you here, and I think you were here today for a reason.” The cousins were openly skeptical, “How could this be a God moment, when the man died?” We then discussed how Beverly had ministered to both the man and his long-time girlfriend, how she had demonstrated to all around how to respond to an emergency, how she had bucked up the crew that gathered into starting CPR even without the protective gear, and how she had been tested in a “live fire” drill, preparing her for the work of her calling.

I then talked about a theme we had discussed about at our last Transforming Leaders Initiative board meeting, the idea that God uses people without their even knowing it. Alban Institute published an article by Richard Hester and Kelli Walker-Jones called The Stories We Are, which touches on this theme. They discuss a teaching from Jesus on hospitality found in Luke 11:5.

This striking account expresses a major theological theme undergirding our work: God is constantly at work in each person's story to realize God's dream. A person may or may not discern this activity. We have seen, however, that when people have the opportunity to thoughtfully explore their inner story within a supportive community, the possibility of finding evidence of God's work in that story is substantially increased. In a contemporary culture where the dominant theology depicts God as breaking into the world from outside, it is difficult to appreciate how the divine may be discovered within our stories.

So, I was trying to create that supportive environment so Beverly could see God’s hand at work. She would not have been anywhere near the site had I not called. I wouldn’t have called except something touched me the night before, prompting my action. She was then used in a powerful way, showing care for the fallen stranger, being a witness of love in action, a Good Samaritan. By being intentional in taking our conversation in this direction, I could witness our faith to our unchurched cousins and help Beverly see how God could use her even when she is skeptical in her own spiritual journey.

A Lost Opportunity to Witness
In my quiet time of meditation later that evening, I realized how I had missed an even more powerful opportunity to witness faith in Jesus. The question that rested on my heart was, “Why didn’t you stop and ask if anyone there at the scene would join you in praying and laying hands on this poor soul?” Do I think I have the gift of healing, or that such action would have changed the outcome and saved his life? No, I don’t. What I do know is that 90% of the people in Boulder, Colorado are unchurched, and my stopping and praying aloud would have been a powerful witness to Christ in the midst of tragedy. Everyone on the scene was confronted with the mortality that we all face, but often do not acknowledge.

Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.
Back to the song. As I listened to the track the next day, I thought deeply about the man, and all who encountered the scene that day. I think it is quite true that most all of us want to go to heaven. Some died-in-the-wool atheists might be offended at the thought, but most of us want some assurance of a place in heaven when we die. Yet, even the most devout souls aren’t in a hurry to die.

I remember reading about hospice care when my Aunt was dying a few years ago. This piece had been written by a hospice nurse of 20 years. Her experience was that everyone, no matter the religious faith, approaches death with fear and trepidation. I suppose it’s not death that provokes fear, but the dying itself.

How do we die for the sake of Christ?
In Mark 8: 34-35, Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” In the twenty-five years since my baptism, I have had many leadership roles in the church. Yet, I was clearly not at the point Jesus describes in this verse. Since my baptism, I have proclaimed Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. It was at least twenty years after I declared Jesus as Savior before I was ready to submit to Him as Lord.

Slowly, finally, I began to realize that it is not about me! The church is not there to serve my needs, it is not my church, it is God’s church. I think there is a tipping point in the Christian walk when you reach this inflection point and begin to follow Jesus as Lord. Sadly, in the churches where I have worshipped, this tipping point is not a prerequisite for service on Church Council even to be the President of Council. So, we find many people in church who want to go to heaven, but are not ready to die. I think the first stage of death is to die to ourselves, which is an ongoing process that is never really complete. It is a spiritual discipline that we never perfect.

As I have faced some serious health concerns these last few weeks, I realize that I want to live. I think Jesus has much work left for me to do here in this world. However, the time of my death is not for me to choose. So, I guess the best strategy I can hold is to continue my efforts to find God’s faint path, His perfect will and purpose for my life. Even though I have been stumbling down that path for the last decade, I still fall short, and wander off the path quite regularly.

How will the world ever know what it means to die to self for the sake of the Gospel unless we Christians show them by our lives? And, that is not enough. For, if we live Godly lives, and do not proclaim Jesus as the author of our lives and our Lord, then people will just credit us with being “good.” Acts of kindness without a witness just accrue credit to us, not to the one who is the Spirit of these acts. How much more powerful would our churches be if we church members lived out our faith and expressed it with the full understanding of what it means to die to ourselves.

Did that man want to die that day we found him on the trail? I doubt it. Just minutes before, he was taking off into the wilderness with the one he loves, expecting a day like many others he had lived. And then the curtain closed. Game over, time to meet your maker. Ready? I’m not. But, by God’s grace, I ask for forgiveness and try each day to live truer to the image of Jesus, studying his word, praying, seeking discernment and wisdom, sharing my faith, working for the Kingdom, and getting ready for that day.