Here is today's Bible lesson, and maybe not just today's. It comes from Walt Hollis, who preaches at the Lifeline Church in Mayflower, Ark., and right now folks in Mayflower, Vilonia and tornado-wracked environs could certainly use a lifeline. They need only look around to see what the whirlwind has wrought. But they don't just look around. They've gone to work cleaning up, fixing up, and beginning to rebuild.
These stalwart souls are out to rebuild not just their towns but their spirit. And they're being joined by volunteers from all over Arkansas who've left their homes to pitch in and help. Just as old Nehemiah in the Good Book left the comfortable court of Persia's great king and struck out for Jerusalem when he heard that its walls were down. Which was the text the Reverend Hollis had preached on the other placid Sunday morning--just a few hours before the tornado roared through Mayflower that evening and left his church in ruins.
When he delivered his sermon that peaceful morning, he spoke in the abstract--all about the need to rebuild the church's "spiritual walls." But his message that Sunday morning would soon prove not just relevant but urgent: "A few hours later, I realized it was not just a spiritual thing. But that the walls of the church were down." Along with walls all over town.
"Most of the time," the Reverend recalled, "when I minister the word of God, I feel like I've gotten for that week what God wants for the church that Sunday, I felt like I knew what I was talking about, but I don't think I really did." A lot of sermons by some earnest, well-intentioned and well-educated ministers may be like that. But the Word has a depth and urgency that none of us may realize when we hear it, or even when we deliver it. And then . . . then comes the whirlwind.
This past Sunday, the congregants at Lifeline were meeting not at their church house, which was gone, but at the high school, and they came not just to weep and mourn, but to rebuild. Which always begins with rebuilding our own shaken selves. So the Reverend Hollis was back in the pulpit Sunday--not just to mourn and comfort, but to remind his flock, and all of us within the sound of his words, that some things do not change, storm or no storm:
"There's nothing that can blow down the walls of God's presence," he said. Looking around at his fellow worshippers, the Reverend realized: "There's nothing that can stop the worship of these people. There's not a storm big enough or a wind strong enough that can stop us from singing his praises." And sing those folks did. And work they will. For a church is not just walls and a steeple; it is a spirit that lives in the heart and soul, and can withstand the strongest winds.
Amen, Brother Hollis, for some words are not just words. They are deeds themselves, sending us forth to restore--as you have restored the faith of all who heard your voice out of the whirlwind.
Editorial on 05/07/2014