Save Our Church, Indeed

Saskatoon’s downtown has a number of old, stately churches that quietly hold up the city’s skyline. Whimsically I wonder what it would be like to worship in buildings of such beauty and history, to stand united with the generations of Christians that have gone before. Does God manifest with more holiness when surrounded by opulence and serenity, quiet and dignity? It all looks so reverent. So fit for a king.

The sheen wore off a little when I walked past the billboard outside 3rd Avenue United Church the other day. At first I thought the message was a prayer.

“SAVE OUR CHURCH”

It quickly became obvious however; the message was not to God at all. Alas, it was a fundraising campaign. The unfortunate (read: heretical) choice of words reveals the faithless core which is perhaps less audibly announced in so many other of our city’s churches. Turns out the grass is not greener on the more stately side of the field. We’re all eating the same stale cud, waiting for the same rain from the same dry sky. All of us sniffing around the same wells for water that will always leave us thirsty again.

Save our church?! Are we really looking to our wandering congregations, to the lost souls outside our closed doors to come and save us, validate us, bring us back from the brink of irrelevance?

And then Jesus.

I guess he’s not fooled by the beautiful stone structure on 3rd, or our oversized quonset on the city's outskirts. He sees the heart of his beloved. He knows those on whom his saving power is not lost. Feebly, inarticulately I echo with those who have gone before – Lord, save your church!

Only you can.

On earth as in heaven.