The Uncertain Sound
By James Ryle Ó2006
http://www.truthworks.org
he apostle Paul wrote, If the trumpet make an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself for battle?(1 Co.14:8). By uncertain Paul means hidden, or indistinct. It seems that in many segments of both the European and the American church world this is precisely what is happening. The four walls have become so sound-proofed that virtually nothing of what is said or done in the course of a typical Sunday morning worship service ever makes it out of the building. Thus, it is hidden. And, whatever wafting tones somehow do manage to drift beyond the vestibule at best they are indistinct. In other words, our trumpet is making an uncertain sound. And despite all the hullabaloo we can muster to entertain and edify the already saved, we are failing in effectively achieving our primary mission seeking and saving that which is lost.
Go tell it on the mountain, over the hill and everywhere. Remember that tune? Or, how about the old hymn that says, Make the message clear and plain Christ receiveth sinful man! And, oh yeah, didnt some guy back there somewhere (I think he was somebody important), once say Go into all the world and tell the good news to everyone, every where. Or something like that.
The evidence of our widespread ineffectiveness is displayed in the unchecked freefall of our untouched culture. Something just doesnt add up here. We are supposed to be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world; holding forth the word of life (Philippians 2:15,16). Eugene Peterson puts it, Carry the light-giving message into the night. How clear is that?
Friends, we have gotten off track. Weve changed the mandate from going into all the world to separating ourselves from the world. Weve construed preach the Gospel to every creature as meaning, build a church on every corner. And, is it possible that we have ceased preaching Christ, and have settled instead for preaching Christianity. No less than five hundred thousand sermons were preached in America alone this past Sunday but no one seems to be listening. At least not in such a way that their lives are being evidently revolutionized by the Son of God. Could it be that there is nothing for them to hear because we are making an uncertain sound? One that is hidden and indistinct?
These are not easy questions to ask, and perhaps even more difficult to answer. But, we must. For fundamentally our mission is one of communication. And if the message -- that Jesus is the Savior of the World -- is having no perceptible effect upon those even in closest proximity to our houses of worship, let alone in the uttermost parts of the world, then perhaps we are conveying another message altogether; a message that is completely meaningless to them.
Some years ago I was invited to Canada to preach at a church in Edmonton, Alberta. I flew into Calgary, and made the connecting flight on up to Edmonton. On board I picked up a copy of the Globe & Mail, one of Canadas national newspapers. I browsed through it out of curiosity, looking for something that might be useful in helping me connect with the people I soon would be speaking to. A curious photo caught my eye, along with a strange headline.
The photo was of a large, odd-shaped thing mounted atop a building. It looked like someone had taken the Liberty Bell, turned it on its side, and fixed it to a post. As it turned out, what I was looking at was an air-raid siren. The headline said, Canadas warning system far from alert.
The article went into some detail explaining why the system was defunct; concluding that even if they could get the sirens up and running, the sound would not penetrate most of todays apartment buildings. The point was that there was no point in sounding the alarm, because no one could hear it anyway. Hmmm.
I arrived at the Edmonton airport and was met by my host, who drove me straight to the church for the evening service. You can imagine my amazement as we pulled into the church parking lot, and there on the corner of the church property was one of these sirens, towering up in the sky atop a huge pole. Hey, thats one of your air-raid sirens, I said. Oh, is that what that is? my host answered; Weve always wondered what that was.
Once inside the church I couldnt get it out of my mind. I felt there was some connection the Lord wanted me to make. So, during worship, I read the article again and noticed four things that were suddenly too obvious to dismiss.
First, the sirens were not working because the power lines had been cut by mice gnawing on the wires. Second, bees used the inside of the large sirens to build their hives, and the works were gummed up with honey. Third, squirrels found the bell-shaped horns to be a dry place suitable for storing their nuts. (Im not making this up.) And, fourth, hunters used the large sirens for target practice damaging them with repeated rifle shots.
I am writing this now because it certainly looks like the same could be said of so many churches in our country today. In some churches the continual gnawing of critters who have nested in the darkness have cut us off from our power source. And in other churches, people have been busy, busy, busy as bees buzzing about doing this and that, and storing all the honey in the sanctuary for themselves. And woe be unto any unsuspecting soul who happens to try and get some of the sweetness for himself. He is sure to be stung repeatedly.
And then there are those spattering of churches that are full of squirrelly folk who have turned the whole thing into a nut house. (Enough said about that.) And, as always, hunters continue to drive by and take shots at the church; emboldened in their brazen behavior by a pastors sordid affair with his secretary, or a treasurer stealing money from the offering, or a priest molesting a child, or a nasty church split. And on and on it goes.
I love the Church. Looking backward I love its history; looking forward I love its future. Looking inward I love its people; looking outward I love its mission. Looking all about I love its diversity. And, most of all, looking upward I love its Lord and Savior Jesus, the Light of the World.
I have served two congregations as pastor over the course of twenty-five years, and have spent the past seven years traveling far and wide in service to the Church at large. So my musings here are not the rantings of some embittered soul, but the genuine concern of a true friend. I know there are many great churches doing a very good work, but they are comparatively few in number. The overwhelming majority are woefully disgraceful; theres no other way to describe them. And ultimately their unbridled misbehavior is an indictment against us all. What I am saying is, we can do better than this. And, furthermore, we must.
Weve a story to tell to the nations, wrote Ernest Nichol in 1896, a story that shall turn their hearts to the right, a story of truth and mercy; a story of peace and light. Weve a song to sing to the nations that shall lift their hearts to the Lord; a song that shall conquer evil, and shatter the spear and sword. Weve a message to give to the nations, that the Lord who reigns up above has sent us His Son to save us, and show us that God is love. Weve a Savior to show to the nations, Who the path of sorrow has trod; that all of the worlds great peoples might come to the truth of God. For the darkness shall turn to dawning, and the dawning to noonday bright; and Christs great kingdom shall come on earth, the kingdom of love and light!
Is that the sound your trumpet is making?