Church Revitalization: Standing in the middle

Since becoming the pastor of a revitalizing church nearly 18 years ago, I have amassed a not-so-small library of books and resources about church revitalization. As I consider this library, it occurs to me that most of the resources I have accumulated speak of how revitalization is begun. Some deal with the end results of revitalization: what does a fully revitalized church look like. To be honest, though, precious few of these volumes focus on what things are like in the middle of a revitalization, where some people have embraced the new vision and are ministering passionately, others have clearly not, and still others are somewhere in between. In his book Breakout Churches, Thom Rainer discusses this briefly, calling revitalizing leaders to be patient enough that most people make it to the other side but not so patient that they are waiting for people resolved not to cross. So also, Samuel Chand addresses it in his books, Cracking Your Church’s Culture Code and Bigger, Faster Leadership, both of which should be required reading for revitalizing leaders. Like Rainer, Chand advocates for patience, observing that it takes a significant period of time to turn a culture that has been ingrained over a significant period of time and that, during that time in the middle of the transition, there will be a significant degree of awkwardness and insecurity. Really, though, even these are more passing observations than substantive direction.

This week, I started the book of Joshua in my personal devotions. The book begins with Joshua assuming the mantle of leadership after the death of Moses. In the first chapter, God delivers the ultimate leadership pep talk, exhorting Joshua to be strong and courageous, not afraid or discouraged. Joshua then orders the people to prepare to cross the Jordan River to take the Promised Land. In chapter two, while the people are preparing, the new leader of Israel sent spies across the river to Jericho in order to scope the place out. And in chapter three, the whole of Israel struck camp early and started for the river. In verses 14-16, we read the astonishing account of how, as soon as the priests leading the procession stepped into the Jordan River, the waters stopped flowing downstream and stood still so that the whole nation was able to cross. At the start of chapter four, the people celebrated the crossing, and by Joshua 4:11, the whole episode concluded with the priests finishing their crossing in the sight of the people.

Once again, the focus is on the beginning and end of the story and what things were like for those who had crossed to the other side, but in Joshua 3:17, we do learn some key tidbits about what it was like for the priests while the people crossed the river. You see, in the previous verses, we discover that the priests were the first people into the river. In other words, they led the way. Here, we discover that they were also the last people out of the river. That is, they stood in the middle until everyone who would cross, did cross.

The priests spent more time in the middle – halfway between the past and the future – than anyone else. Such is the lot of anyone who would lead through change, whether that change is planned or unplanned, the result of a strategy or crisis. And since change is the essence of church revitalization, it should not surprise us to be standing in the middle. Neither should we be surprised at what life is like while we do so. Fortunately, Joshua 3:17 suggests five things that we can expect – and even prepare for – while we stand in the middle.

Standing in the middle is scary.

Ordinarily, the Jordan River ranges from three to ten feet in depth. Verse 15, however, revealed that this was harvest season, when rains fell and the surrounding hills became a sort of funnel channeling all that water into the Jordan. Thus, the text notes that the river was at flood stage, overflowing its banks in a raging torrent. Moreover, a flooded river is far more than just an impressive volume of water racing past; usually, it carries with it massive quantities of debris ranging from sticks and flotsam to entire, full-grown trees.

Fortunately, when the priests took their first step into the river, the water stopped and began to pile up. I imagine it was as though a massive transparent wall was suddenly erected just to their right. No doubt, the priests sighed with relief when their feet did not get wet. As they proceeded out into the middle of the river, though, the water quickly grew deeper until it was well over their heads. Moreover, with each passing moment, the water grew deeper so that, by the time the Israelites finished crossing to the other side, the water had heaped up all the way to Adam, approximately 30 miles to the north.

Rivers, as you likely know, flow downhill. Over these 30 miles, the Jordan River drops approximately 70 meters in elevation. Further, water self-levels. So if the flooding started at Adam, then the surface of the water at Gilgal was level with Adam. In other words, by the time the priests headed for shore, they were standing at the base of a wall of water that was more than 200 feet tall. And was that a tree that just swirled past? Talk about intimidating!

Often, while standing in the middle of the river, having started the change but not yet finished it, there is a looming sense of dread. We know that, if God’s dam broke, everything would come crashing down on our heads, and we would be instantaneously and absolutely overwhelmed. Indeed, standing in the middle is scary.

Standing in the middle is characterized by helplessness.

As the priests descended into the riverbed, and the water retreated farther and farther to the south, the people must have rushed forward. Astonishment at the sight of the river piling up to the north and drying up to the south, coupled with an eagerness to cross and claim the Promised Land, surely drove what we see in Joshua 4:10: “The people hurried across.” One might imagine some of the younger ones helping the older ones down the bank on the east side of the river and back up the bank on the west side. No doubt, there were people helping the carts and wagons as they bumped across the rocky riverbed. There were people watching the children and others setting up the new camp, and there was the handful of men tasked with picking the twelve stones that would serve as a monument for what God had done.

While all of this was happening, though, what were the priests doing? They were standing in the middle of the dried-up river bed carrying the ark of the Lord’s covenant, and I know that, if I was in their shoes, I would have gone bananas. You see, I have a hard time standing still and an even harder time not helping someone that needs it. I would have been thinking about all the things that I needed to do to set up my own campsite, pitching in to help people get across as quickly and orderly as possible, and just generally helping out.

When they stepped into the river, the water stopped, and when they stepped out of it, the water resumed its course to the Dead Sea. I imagine that they encouraged people as they went, bidding them come this way and keep going. As such, they served as an important conduit for God’s power and direction. Yet, I can only imagine how utterly helpless those priests felt as the people passed them by.

When standing in the middle of the river, it is easy to feel utterly helpless. You invested blood, sweat, and tears getting to the shore, and you summoned all your faith and courage to take those initial steps and initiate change, and you are thinking of all the things that you will be able to do when the revitalization is complete. Yet, in that moment, as the people cross from the old way to the new, there is little more to do than wait and feel helpless. Truly, standing in the middle is characterized by helplessness.

Standing in the middle can be parched.

In Numbers 26, as Moses was nearing the end of his tenure as leader of Israel, a census showed that there were 601,730 men of fighting age. The census did not include women or anyone under the age of 20. If the breakdown of Israel’s population was similar to that of the United States, this would mean that approximately 1.6 million Israelites crossed the Jordan River that day, and if 1,000 people completed the crossing every minute, it would take more than 24 hours for all of the people to cross (1.6 million people / 24 hours = 65,669 people / hour = 1,111 people / minute). (Admittedly, this is a crude calculation. Israelites probably had more children than 21st century Americans, but two tribes left their women and children on the east side of the River because they had chosen to settle there.)

The priests, then, were standing on dry ground in the middle of the river for hours while hundreds of thousands of people hastened past them, and in that statement, we find two profound ironies. First, the Jordan River was piling up just a few feet away, but these priests were standing on dry ground. With the sun beating directly upon their heads and reflecting off the nearby wall of water, it is impossible to imagine that they did not grow quickly parched. And second, hundreds of thousands of people were moving past them, but how many of those stopped to chat with the priests as they hurried past? By the end of the day, they must have been parched for both a long drink of water and a little fellowship.

Quite often, in the midst of change, revitalizing leaders find themselves parched for lack of living water. That is, they are spiritually thirsty, longing for communion with the God whose ark they are holding. This is profoundly ironic because God is blatantly working right in front of their face. Yet, in the thick of revitalization, they neglect their own spiritual vitality, failing to exercise the spiritual disciplines that make their hearts ready to experience God. Alternatively, as he did with Job, the devil masks the Lord so that, while the revitalizing leader knows that God is working just over there, he/she cannot see his face or hear his voice.

So also, in the middle of change, revitalizing leaders find themselves parched for human fellowship. The church is growing, and the community is responding. Yet, the revitalizing leaders feels utterly alone as people cross from old to new right before him/her. Yes, standing in the middle is often parched.

Standing in the middle is essential.

There were, then, several significant challenges for the priests standing in the middle of the Jordan River in Joshua 3:17. However, the moment was not without its redemptive qualities. Consider, for example, what would have happened if the priests did not do their job. If they had not stepped into the river, would the water have stopped? Would anyone else have dared to step in their place, or would the people have simply continued living in the wilderness, utterly oblivious to what could have been? Further, if they had not stood in the middle of the dry riverbed, pointing people in the right direction and encouraging them as they passed, how many would have never made it to the other side? They would have wandered aimlessly on the east bank and never entered the Promised Land, or worse, they would have stalled in the middle and been crushed when the Lord released the heap of water.

In any change, there are always those innovators who simply cannot sit still. There are also those who lag behind. These laggards are not toxic or resistant, necessarily, but for whatever reason, they are more reluctant than others. Sadly, many would-be revitalizers focus on the former group and leave the latter stranded on the far side or drowning in the middle. Successful revitalizing leaders recognize that they must encourage the reluctant to press forward a little more than they prefer. They also recognize that they must encourage the innovative to wait up just a bit so that everyone who would cross is able to safely reach the other side.

No, it is not that the revitalizing leader is actually making any of this possible. That is all the work of God, who held back the flooded Jordan. Yet, somehow, the person in the middle serves an essential purpose nonetheless. Yes, standing in the middle, as uncomfortable as it can be, is essential, and that is a key realization. You see, people are willing to endure tremendous hardship if they believe the cause to be worthy. When revitalizing leaders move forward without enduring the middle, people get left behind, and people who are left behind tend to die. Had the priests of Israel finished crossing before the people, those left in the middle would have drowned, and those left on the far side would have wandered until they, too, died. It is imperative that revitalizing leaders stand in the middle because standing in the middle is essential.

Standing in the middle is secure.

Finally, notice that the priests were standing “firmly on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan.” What an astonishing thing! In the middle of a riverbed which was, only moments earlier, inundated with a roaring deluge of floodwater and debris, these priests stood firmly on dry ground! There was no mud to sink in, no loose rocks to teeter on, and no slimy spots to slip on! Instead, even with a wall of water towering above them, a sea of people that they could not help passing before them, and an overwhelming thirst for water and fellowship, the priests stood firmly on dry ground, thoroughly fixed and established in place, with footing that was absolutely secure.

In the midst of change, it often seems nothing is secure. The revitalizing leader is compelled to wonder if the looming threats will finally come crashing down upon his/her head. He/she must contend with the paralyzing sense of helplessness every day. She/he must wrestle with parching spiritual dryness and loneliness on a regular basis.

In the middle, every step seems fraught with danger. Sinking, teetering, slippery danger. When we stand squarely where God wants us, however, we can rest assured that we are standing on firm, dry ground, safe and secure. Indeed, if God wants us standing in the middle, there is no more secure place in the world.

Please do not misunderstand. This does not mean that every church revitalization is guaranteed to come out the other side. Rather, it means that, even when the wall comes crashing down, there is nothing more that we can do, and we find ourselves feeling far from God and all alone, we can rest assured that God’s grace is sufficient to hold us safe and secure until the deluge passes.

The truth is, standing in the middle is far from easy. It is scary. We may be helpless. And we will probably find ourselves spiritually and relationally parched before revitalization is realized.

The great promise of God to revitalizing leaders, though, is that, when we stand where he wants us, we will never fail to stand firmly on dry ground in the middle.