For those of us recognizing the need for the church to engage the myriad of issues postmodernism brings, we need to be aware that the process that will lead us to this inevitable outcome requires death. I hate to state the obvious, but here goes: death hurts. We may be so caught up in our passion for change that we callously brush past the emotional turmoil our brothers and sisters in Christ face. Many of those in the generations preceding us fought their own battles and waged their own wars. Their battle scars represent a cause they gave their life to, and we should not take that lightly. It may be possible that a certain amount of their resistance to our cause may be that they are simply worn out. They are enjoying some of the rewards of a hard-fought life, and they don’t cherish the idea of a new call to arms. This may be the appropriate time for another obvious fact that shouldn’t need to be stated: we are answering the same battle cry. We may feel at times that we live in different worlds, but we belong to the same Kingdom. I think those of us who are passionate about incarnating the message of the Gospel to our culture should at times, pause long enough to make certain that we are also incarnating the grace of Christ to our brothers and sisters who have not come to the same conviction.

Another humble reminder is that every fresh movement brings with it a certain amount of extra baggage. At times we are blinded by the passion of the moment, and we do not clearly see that having a lot of it right does not make us immune to getting some of it wrong. It is interesting that our reaction to the modernistic tendency to categorize everything ad nauseam sometimes tempts us to neatly package up all the ones with whom we disagree as hopelessly modern. You know, what’s good for the goose…

Wisdom tells us that we have much to learn from those who have walked the path before us. As good as it is, Open Mic Night at the local coffee bar is not the only source of good philosophy. We need to listen to those with whom we disagree as much as we do to those who share our positions-in fact, we may need to listen to them more. We may not always come to the same conclusions, but most criticisms offer some measure of truth. Besides, believe it or not, the time will come when our generation will be standard bearers for the status quo. To some degree, each generation’s revolutionaries are the next generation’s elder statesmen.

God has obviously placed a divine calling on the souls of a generation, a calling to boldly step into the future, unfettered by the chains of a powerful religious system insisting on conformity. As this saga lives itself out, I think the heart of God and the cause of the Kingdom would be best served by humble, courageous explorers who learn to balance an unswerving commitment to the call with an undying, respectful love for those who have gone before. If a season of death is required, it would seem that we should allow for a season of mourning as well.

The best part of God’s stories is always the ending. Good triumphs over evil. Wayward sons come home. And death gives way to life. For those who are sensing the doom of the indictment of death upon much of the current church system, this is the way it must be. This is the way of hope. This is the way of life. The spiritual truth we must remember is that the promise of resurrection is hollow without the pain of death. When alluding to His own death and resurrection, Jesus reminded His followers that in order for there to be a bountiful harvest, a grain of wheat would have to fall to the ground and die so that new life could spring up.

The modern church has somehow grabbed a shortsighted view of God’s promises to the church. God did say that the “church would prevail” and that we would be “more than conquerors,” but I don’t think that He necessarily had our particular version of Americanized Christianity as the focal point of His promise. The fear of death may be the result of our mistaken tendency to define the church by our own perceptions rather than allowing God’s mind to shape our understanding. When we cling to our systems and categories more than we embrace the living, breathing truth of this community of faith where God’s Spirit continually breathes new life, death may be the only remedy.

It challenges our sensibilities, but this is cause for celebration. The miracle of resurrection hinges on the reality of death. A Savior who resurrected from …an afternoon nap…would be meaningless, to say nothing of ridiculous. A church which resurrected from…a difficult cultural war…would be purposeless, to say nothing of ineffective. However, a Savior who resurrected from a bloody death on a wooden cross ignited a call to change the world; and after facing its own torturous death, the church can be resurrected to carry on this call once again. I am not suggesting that this will be a painless process, but I am suggesting that sometimes pain is the only way.

This death will take on numerous forms. It may be a crisis of faith, a total disorientation with long-held assumptions, a sense of deep regret, or a struggle between those preparing for a funeral and those still celebrating birthdays. Some churches will see death take its ultimate toll: they will cease to exist. For some churches, the truest, most hopeful gift they can offer the Kingdom is to die so that the Spirit can bring new life elsewhere.

Some may think that I speak callous words without any regard for the real-life situation of the church. On the contrary, I am currently working with a church that has made a daring move. Sensing that the struggles the church faced were far deeper than cosmetic, the leadership team unanimously sent a proposal to the church: cease operations, sell the facility, and offer the funds as a resource to help the cause of planting new churches seriously grappling with the challenges of postmodernism. Some may see this as capitulation or an admission of defeat, but it is the honest voice of a people who have come to see that God’s cause is much bigger than one portion of the Church. This is certainly a time where the sum is greater than its individual parts. The church could have hoarded their financial resources, hanging on to a supposed self-justifying symbol that God was still blessing them (financial stability is the final determinant, isn’t it?), but they rejected that temptation. After wrestling with a number of difficult questions and toying with numerous scenarios, the obvious choice was as drastic as it was hopeful. The church boldly determined that the Kingdom would best be served by following a path of death so that in the end, new life could be spread for generations to come. It is my sense that this brave little church, which may have been labeled by many as irrelevant and hopelessly “out of touch,” may, in the end, be far ahead of its time. This courageous path may be one that other churches will eventually sense the call to follow.