Food for Thought

The Modern Church Lies Comatose in the Postmodern World

“Coma,” the Doctor said, “He’s in a coma from which he may or may not recover.” It was May 22nd, 1991 when I heard those words in regards to my father. It was May 22nd, 1991 when my life would be permanently changed… in some ways for the worse, in some ways for the better.

When you learn that someone you love has slipped into a coma time seems to swiftly and surely come to a stop. It was three and half weeks in May and June that year which all blend into one lengthy, tiresome trip to and from the hospital. In reality it was filled with up to three trips a day driving across the hot, dusty town of El Paso to and from the intensive care center at Thomason Hospital. It was filled with sadness (and occasional laughter) as my family, brought together by tragedy, grieved. But mostly it was filled with prayer… prayers of a twenty-four year old who desperately hoped that God’s will would align with his will… prayers of a family who had never suffered through anything so tragic… prayers of literally hundreds, even thousands of the faithful scattered across the country and around the globe lifting up a brother in the faith.

It was a tragic time, but it was a wonderful time. It was a time that looks and feels awfully familiar in a strange and bizarre way as I stare at the Church in 2004… a modern Church lying comatose in this post-modern world.

The comparisons between my father’s coma and that of the Church are striking and eerie. They begin with the fact that the patient never knows he is in a coma. As strange as it may seem, it is true. Although the world continues to spin with the best medical staff available, the best treatments available, the best waiting room, decent cafeteria food, a newly paved parking lot, fine shopping, cars filling up highways, baseball games and cable television… the patient lies oblivious to it all. Three and a half minutes or three and half weeks, time means nothing to the comatose. They simply don’t realize that they are in a state of coma.

The second similarity is life-support. In the case of my father his coma required a ventilator. An outside object designed to breath for him… to keep his blood circulating… to keep his vital organs working when his body could not do it on its own. In the Church’s case this role is lovingly and caringly filled by the Holy Spirit. A job He willingly does regardless of whether the Body is in or out of coma. The difference being that out of a coma His breath gives life and life more abundant, while in a coma His breath merely sustains life.

Another similarity is that people check on the coma victim on a regular basis. Whether it is three visits a day or merely on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights there are those that check on the victim regularly, seeking any signs of improvement. Have they wiggled a foot, did they open their eyes, anything? Or did they just lie there since I saw them last? The only movement being the slow rise and fall of their chest forced by the ventilator and the inching of the blood through the veins… an impossible act without the life-support system.

The doctor told my mother and I that my father may be able to hear things, but just not be able respond to them. So our family talked to him, we told of our love for him, we prayed with him, we held his hand, and we even played music through headphones for him. We patiently tried to make it known that we cared, whether he knew it or not. We had to believe that he could hear us and that our words and actions mattered even though he could not tell us that they did. It was an act on our part out of love for him that in reality may have only helped us to keep our sanity in our hour of crisis. Shaking the church will not cause it to leap forth from the coma. But neither will our silence. We must trust that our words and actions will be heard and felt and that somehow they will make a difference.

I will never forget the day after three and half weeks when my father opened his eyes. I remember asking him where the clock was and watching as his eyes slowly moved across the room and landed on the ticking numbered circle, which hung on the wall behind me. It was an unbelievable sign of communication that filled my world with renewed hope.

Another noteworthy point which I am confidant will be true in the case of the Church is that when (not if), but when the Church awakes from its coma it will never be the same. The reason a coma occurs is that the body shuts itself down in attempt to keep itself alive. This state is often caused by traumatic injury, the effects of which can be life-long. In my fathers case it was a brain-injury that affected his personality and short-term memory skills. In the case of the Church we will have to wait and see the change when it awakes. When it realizes that the world has changed around it, and that the modern world it was comfortable in has ceased to exist. One thing is certain… the message of the Church will not change, but it’s methods will.

Now at 36 I find myself again praying for a coma victim, but this time the stakes are higher than just one man’s life. And again I catch myself secretly hoping that God’s will would align itself with my will… something I don’t think He is too fond of.

In the mean time, I can only patiently and prayerfully wait for the eyes of the Church to open and move slowly across the room to the ticking clock hanging on the wall.

 

by Kent C. Williamson