In Conclusion
I STAND BY MY CHURCH
We are hearing a lot these days about the failure of the church. Some say it is doomed to die, because God is dead. Others predict its demise because of its lack of “relevance” to the modern day, whatever that means. Still others see the church as a great waste of time, energy, and money, the type of thing an “intelligent” person no longer has need for in our kind of world.
Such people are not so much against the church. They are simply ignoring it. It is no longer important to them one way or the other, no longer a thing to be reckoned with. We dare no longer pretend that such voices are few and far between. One can hear them everywhere, even when there is no speech.
The silent turning away of the multitudes from real and specific commitment is its own eloquent witness to their feelings about the church and its worth. We are near enough to the roots of our own heritage as Protestants to realize, almost instinctively, the danger of closing our ears to all this. We cannot afford to be caught napping, as the Catholics were. Nor do we want to be found defending something which God himself may have rejected. There is always a danger in being oblivious to constructive criticism. God may well be speaking to us now!
Yet, because of the pressure--and perhaps at least in measure because of our own sense of inferiority--we are much too prone to lie down before it all and cry, rather hopelessly, “Well, maybe they are right; we had best be careful; maybe we've been too sure; after all, who are we?” Thus the corrosion grows, fed by fear--like heat shed from a fire already begun. Our mouths are stopped by the roaring flames, and we retreat to wait and hope against hope for better days. Perhaps God himself will intervene.
Soon it is no longer the Church in general that is questioned--that we could stand without too much strain--but our church and our faith and our ways. Everyone has a word to add--more fuel for the fire–and each new spokesperson is sure beyond doubt that his or her word will settle tne issue. Has not God himself sent them? The old church staggers, but surely not only from crumbling mortar. We kick it and beat it and salt its wounds while the skeptics laugh in derision and unnerved friends chip away at the foundations.
Will no one stand to defend my church? Will all her friends be silent? Is criticism all we shall hear? Is no one being redeemed? Are none being nurtured? Is there death only at the heart, and not life? Where are the patriot's voices? Where are the friends?
I will be a fool! I love her, the Church. And I love my church. I love her institutions, though I am not unaware of their faults. I love her worship. I am revived daily by her quiet, yet constant fellowship. I love her hymns, and the Word she proclaims. I treasure her celebrations of the sacraments. I honor her teachers. I salute her servants. I stand behind her leaders. I laud her achievements and I love her aspirings.
She shall be judged, of course, and in many things found wanting. I know that, and I reserve the right to criticize her myself. She needs to be judged, and so do I. But we have been promised that not even the gates of hell will prevail against her, because she belongs to Christ and was built from the very beginning on that foundation. She cannot be destroyed from without or within--by us. We do not have the power to destroy her. Her parentage is divine and her foundations are secure.
If the Lord tears her down it will only be to build something greater. We must be ready for that. Yet for now, in this climate of unrest, when she suffers so much from foe and friend alike, let me raise her a song from the heart.
I stand gladly in her battlements. I participate joyfully in her wider ministry, and in the seeking with her of that renewal we all so sorely need. While many cry out the news of her death, let me hail her life. For I believe in her and love her, and will stay by her with joy until the end.
James R. Hawkinson (1930- ), “I Stand by My Church,” originally appeared in The California Covenanter, November 25, 1965; altered and republished in The Covenant Companion, January 1, 1983, p. 32.
PASS IT ON!
Our inheritance flows
Like a fresh, clean stream
From the heart of God.
Who knows where it begins
Or finally ends
In oceans of time?
Whatever we may say
Is inadequate
To trace it clearly,
Except that God once gave
And still is giving
Out of love for us.
We are never worthy
To receive or share
The fruits of such grace!
No wonder we long now
To offer God thanks,
"Thanks for ev'rything,"
And, after the off'ring,
To reach, teach, and love
Those yet without hope.
James R. Hawkinson (1930- ), “Pass It On!”, The Covenant Companion, June, 1991, p. 48.
TIME TO BE MOVING ON
[Years] have moved us further away, sequentially at least, from our historical roots as Covenanters. There is no avoiding that. Time, like the moving finger it is, has written yet another chapter in our lives and having writ, moves on. We can no more stay its hand than prevent the dawning of a single day.
Some find that sad. With eyes set on glories in the past, it is difficult for them even to survive the present, much less “strain forward to what lies ahead” (Philippians 3:13). Life in their view is something to be endured, not experienced and enjoyed. I have known that feeling at times. So, perhaps, have you.
We can be thankful the Bible is more forward-looking--not because it is any less realistic but because its focus lies elsewhere. Faith, it teaches, is a living thing, grounded in and fed by living relationships. God and his Spirit, God's people and his world--these are to be at the center of our concern. This year or last is not the key, or even next year for that matter.
What counts is living day by day into God's will for our lives and the life of his creation. If further away from our historical roots, the Bible would say, we are also nearer to our salvation than when we first believed (Romans 13:11). “We do not yet see everything in subjection to him. But we see Jesus” and we know that God has left nothing outside his control (Hebrews 2:8,9).
What our forebears experienced and taught us to love is but a foretaste of things which are yet to be. The woods we have been through, to use Robert Frost's lovely image, may well be calm and deep, but we have promises to keep, and miles to go before we sleep--yes, miles to go before we sleep. It is time to be moving on.
James R. Hawkinson (1930- ), “Time to Be Moving On,” The Covenant Companion, February, 1988, p. 32.
We are hearing a lot these days about the failure of the church. Some say it is doomed to die, because God is dead. Others predict its demise because of its lack of “relevance” to the modern day, whatever that means. Still others see the church as a great waste of time, energy, and money, the type of thing an “intelligent” person no longer has need for in our kind of world.
Such people are not so much against the church. They are simply ignoring it. It is no longer important to them one way or the other, no longer a thing to be reckoned with. We dare no longer pretend that such voices are few and far between. One can hear them everywhere, even when there is no speech.
The silent turning away of the multitudes from real and specific commitment is its own eloquent witness to their feelings about the church and its worth. We are near enough to the roots of our own heritage as Protestants to realize, almost instinctively, the danger of closing our ears to all this. We cannot afford to be caught napping, as the Catholics were. Nor do we want to be found defending something which God himself may have rejected. There is always a danger in being oblivious to constructive criticism. God may well be speaking to us now!
Yet, because of the pressure--and perhaps at least in measure because of our own sense of inferiority--we are much too prone to lie down before it all and cry, rather hopelessly, “Well, maybe they are right; we had best be careful; maybe we've been too sure; after all, who are we?” Thus the corrosion grows, fed by fear--like heat shed from a fire already begun. Our mouths are stopped by the roaring flames, and we retreat to wait and hope against hope for better days. Perhaps God himself will intervene.
Soon it is no longer the Church in general that is questioned--that we could stand without too much strain--but our church and our faith and our ways. Everyone has a word to add--more fuel for the fire–and each new spokesperson is sure beyond doubt that his or her word will settle tne issue. Has not God himself sent them? The old church staggers, but surely not only from crumbling mortar. We kick it and beat it and salt its wounds while the skeptics laugh in derision and unnerved friends chip away at the foundations.
Will no one stand to defend my church? Will all her friends be silent? Is criticism all we shall hear? Is no one being redeemed? Are none being nurtured? Is there death only at the heart, and not life? Where are the patriot's voices? Where are the friends?
I will be a fool! I love her, the Church. And I love my church. I love her institutions, though I am not unaware of their faults. I love her worship. I am revived daily by her quiet, yet constant fellowship. I love her hymns, and the Word she proclaims. I treasure her celebrations of the sacraments. I honor her teachers. I salute her servants. I stand behind her leaders. I laud her achievements and I love her aspirings.
She shall be judged, of course, and in many things found wanting. I know that, and I reserve the right to criticize her myself. She needs to be judged, and so do I. But we have been promised that not even the gates of hell will prevail against her, because she belongs to Christ and was built from the very beginning on that foundation. She cannot be destroyed from without or within--by us. We do not have the power to destroy her. Her parentage is divine and her foundations are secure.
If the Lord tears her down it will only be to build something greater. We must be ready for that. Yet for now, in this climate of unrest, when she suffers so much from foe and friend alike, let me raise her a song from the heart.
I stand gladly in her battlements. I participate joyfully in her wider ministry, and in the seeking with her of that renewal we all so sorely need. While many cry out the news of her death, let me hail her life. For I believe in her and love her, and will stay by her with joy until the end.
James R. Hawkinson (1930- ), “I Stand by My Church,” originally appeared in The California Covenanter, November 25, 1965; altered and republished in The Covenant Companion, January 1, 1983, p. 32.
PASS IT ON!
Our inheritance flows
Like a fresh, clean stream
From the heart of God.
Who knows where it begins
Or finally ends
In oceans of time?
Whatever we may say
Is inadequate
To trace it clearly,
Except that God once gave
And still is giving
Out of love for us.
We are never worthy
To receive or share
The fruits of such grace!
No wonder we long now
To offer God thanks,
"Thanks for ev'rything,"
And, after the off'ring,
To reach, teach, and love
Those yet without hope.
James R. Hawkinson (1930- ), “Pass It On!”, The Covenant Companion, June, 1991, p. 48.
TIME TO BE MOVING ON
[Years] have moved us further away, sequentially at least, from our historical roots as Covenanters. There is no avoiding that. Time, like the moving finger it is, has written yet another chapter in our lives and having writ, moves on. We can no more stay its hand than prevent the dawning of a single day.
Some find that sad. With eyes set on glories in the past, it is difficult for them even to survive the present, much less “strain forward to what lies ahead” (Philippians 3:13). Life in their view is something to be endured, not experienced and enjoyed. I have known that feeling at times. So, perhaps, have you.
We can be thankful the Bible is more forward-looking--not because it is any less realistic but because its focus lies elsewhere. Faith, it teaches, is a living thing, grounded in and fed by living relationships. God and his Spirit, God's people and his world--these are to be at the center of our concern. This year or last is not the key, or even next year for that matter.
What counts is living day by day into God's will for our lives and the life of his creation. If further away from our historical roots, the Bible would say, we are also nearer to our salvation than when we first believed (Romans 13:11). “We do not yet see everything in subjection to him. But we see Jesus” and we know that God has left nothing outside his control (Hebrews 2:8,9).
What our forebears experienced and taught us to love is but a foretaste of things which are yet to be. The woods we have been through, to use Robert Frost's lovely image, may well be calm and deep, but we have promises to keep, and miles to go before we sleep--yes, miles to go before we sleep. It is time to be moving on.
James R. Hawkinson (1930- ), “Time to Be Moving On,” The Covenant Companion, February, 1988, p. 32.
CLOSING PRAYER
GLAD THANKS
Our Father, we give you glad thanks for this unbelievable, imperishable, unmerited fellowship. Help us to continue to enjoy each other as we pasture in your meadows, in places that have been made available to us through your grace, because you love us--not because we earned it, but because you love us, because you are who you are. And help us thus to love each other even when we disagree, even when we see things differently, but understanding that we are sheep of the same Shepherd, even our Lord Jesus Christ. Help that whatever is said or understood [among us] may suffer the winnowing of your good sense, that what is good seed may fall into good ground, and what is nonsense may dry up quickly, blow away, and be forgotten. For we pray it in Jesus' name. Amen.
Zenos E. Hawkinson, Prayer before a Lecture on “Uprooting” (1978).From Anatomy of the Pilgrim Experience: Reflections on Being a Covenanter, Edited by Philip J. Anderson and David E. Hawkinson (2000), p. 2.
