Universal Press Syndicate released the following story. The headline reads “Holiest site becoming one of the stinkiest.” The story follows.
“Jerusalem's Church of the Holy Sepulchre most recently made News of the Weird in 2004 because of continued petty territorial fighting among the six Christian denominations that share management of the church, which is home to some of Christianity's holiest sites, including that of Christ's resurrection.
As Easter approached this year, three of the groups that control one 10-stall restroom could not agree how to divide responsibility for repairing it, leading to a pervasive stench in the building.
Jim White
“Furthermore, the path of the outflow sewage pipe (which needed enlarging) passes under property of a fourth denomination, which has resisted helping unless it is granted control of one of the 10 stalls.”
Heaven help us. This is offensive at so many levels one hardly knows where to begin.
Some years ago, when I had opportunity to visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, I was dismayed at the general filthiness of the church and learned at the time that the council governing the administration (and cleaning) of the church could not agree on how to go about its work. Consequently, no group would assume responsibility and also steadfastly refused to allow anyone else to.
Meanwhile, in a part of the world in which Christians are by far the smallest of the three major religious of the region, and in an area in which the light of Christ needs desperately to shine, orthodoxy seems determined to hide its lamp under a bushel, or more literally, in a stall.
If Jesus was sometimes frustrated by how slow the disciples were, he must be absolutely flabbergasted by some of what he sees practiced by his followers today. In the first century unbelievers were confronted by the foolishness of the cross. In our time, on a global scale a pagan world witnesses the foolishness of the Christians.
It is a miracle of God that the kingdom shows any sign of advancing at all given the self-inflicted wounds made by proponents like these.
No doubt, if we talked with representatives of the four denominations in question, each would be able, eloquently perhaps, to defend his group's position on toilet dogma. Surely their motives are not as crass as they appear. Concerns that may seem on the surface to be prideful, petty, jealous and greedy to the unchristian observer must mask deeper theological truths. Whatever those might be, however, are hopelessly entangled in the webs of animosity and the snares of suspicion with which these groups view one another.
But the unchristian world sees only the obvious. It judges their rhetoric about love to be false on the basis of how they treat each other.
I was about to congratulate myself on being associated with a group known for its piety and to thank God that we are not like these Jerusalem publicans when scenes of Baptist life flashed, unbidden, on the screen of my mind. I recalled our wars. Some have possessed powers of justification sufficient to call them necessary. But I really believe Jesus is flabbergasted and asks again, “Have I been with you so long and you still fail to understand?”
Even local churches, spared the global glances of an incredulous world and the entanglements of unmanageable administration, sometimes succumb to the same vices at work in the Orthodox Jerusalem brothers. How petty most of our fights must appear when viewed from the outside. Communities become disgusted with the message of churches that can't manage to practice what they preach about something so basic as love. Every faction can, of course, justify its own perspective and behavior; but this only goes to demonstrate how far from the kingdom we are prone to drift.
“Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven ….” was Jesus' prayer. But in truth, we want things our way on earth just as Lucifer wanted his way in heaven. With puffed-up pride, we believe we know what others should believe and do. Lacking respect for them and manipulating against them powers we possess, we go about forcing them to capitulate to our wills as expressed by majority vote.
One group attacks with righteous authority. The other group defends itself and counter attacks with righteous indignation. Such is the way of the world. Such is the way of warring armies. Such is the way of the divided Body of Christ—“all one body, we”—slapping itself silly, beating itself into irrelevancy, and wounding itself critically.
There is nothing spiritual about this process. It is as secular as backroom politics. But all too often, as seen in history it is the way of the church.
But where is the still small voice of the Spirit in all of this? Many are the thunderous voices fancying themselves to be prophetic in some misguided Old Testament sense. But who will speak the simple words of Jesus and the dare to declare a primary New Testament theme: “As I have loved you, so ought you to love one another.”
Don't think that I have given up on the church! Far from it! But we, the church, local and global, have work to do. We have misdeeds to undo, mistrust to untangle and misperceptions to set right. We can do it if it matters more to us that an unbelieving world see Jesus in us than that we get our own way. After all, the way of the Christ is the way of the cross. Sacrifice, humility, subjugation of self-will to the greater purposes of the kingdom.
Think about what we can accomplish if we are willing to let go of wanting things done our way. We can yet convince the world that the love of Christ in us is authentic because they see it demonstrated in how we treat one another and others outside the faith. In a world not lacking in voices demanding that others listen, we can yet earn the right to be eagerly heard if we speak Christ's words from pure hearts rather than our own from selfish motives. Not everyone will accept Christ's message, of course. Jesus said only a few will turn in at the narrow gate that leads to life. I just want to make sure that I don't get so preoccupied fighting for a stall that I miss the gate.