“Dead Church Walking”

Revelation 3:1-6

“Dead man walking” is the name given to those about to be executed by their fellow death row inmates as they are led to the execution chamber. This is a reference to the reality that those going into that chamber alive will come out of it dead.

The church in Sardis wasn’t on some sort of divine death row. The risen Lord wasn’t leading it to its execution. He didn’t have to. The church was, if not already dead, then definitely on life support. Most of its members were Christians in name only.

There was the appearance of life. Worship and other church activities continued as usual. From the perspective of its members all was well and good. To use an old phrase, odds are the church was a legend in its own mind.

But contrary to the congregation’s self-deluded self- perception they were in deep, deep spiritual trouble. They were in a rut, and we all know that the only difference between a rut and a grave is its depth. Their rut was quickly becoming a grave. They were a dead church walking.

The irony is that compared to some sister churches, they had it easy – maybe too easy. They didn’t have to contend with persecution. Nobody was threatening them. There was no danger of martyrdom. Nor were there any heresies with which to contend. No false prophets were leading them astray. No false doctrines were corrupting the Gospel message. There wasn’t even any major conflict within the church.

No persecution. No heresies. No conflict. On the surface that sounds like an ideal climate for spiritual and numerical growth. But what’s on the surface doesn’t always reflect what’s really going on. All their activities amounted to nothing more than shallow and superficial busywork. Instead of being the church they were playing church. The congregation was living out its life of faith purely by reflex. They were on automatic pilot: no direction, no goals, no sense of urgency. And no passion.

Slowly but surely they were reverting back to the secular culture from which they’d sprung. Instead of living as a counterpoint to their city’s soft and lazy wealth and degeneracy they were themselves growing soft and lazy. Could degeneracy be far behind? Probably not.

The church in Sardis that’s described in today’s reading from Revelation is almost a textbook example of the sin of sloth. Sloth is one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Its modern definition is simple laziness, but there was a lot more than just laziness going on with the church in Sardis.

They were lazy. That’s a fact. But why? They were beset by what the early desert fathers of the church called acedia. To quote Urban T. Holmes III, “Acedia is spiritual boredom, an indifference to matters of religion… a fear of passion. Like a cancer it eats away at our abandonment to the love for God and his creation.” Just to be clear, one can be a world-class workaholic and still be guilty of sloth.

The church in Sardis was afflicted with what the French call ennui, a sense that nothing really mattered. In the words of Dorothy Sayers, “[Sloth] is the sin which believes in nothing, cares for nothing, seeks to know nothing, interferes with nothing, enjoys nothing, loves nothing, hates nothing, finds purpose in nothing, lives for nothing, and only remains alive because there is nothing it would die for.”

Confronting this sloth in the Sardis church, the risen Lord spoke an emphatic word of judgment in his letter to them. His essential message was: “You think you’re alive. Guess what? You’re dead. You’re preaching and teaching a Gospel that you’re failing to live. You’re going through the motions of being a church, saying all the right words and making all the right gestures. But where is your saltiness? Where is your light? Where is your passion for me and the Gospel?”

And he goes on, this time in the words of Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase: “I see right through your work. You have a reputation for vigor and zest, but you’re dead, stone dead. Up on your feet! Take a deep breath! Maybe there’s life in you yet. But I wouldn’t know by looking at your busywork; nothing of God’s work has been completed. Your condition is desperate. Think of the gift you once held in your hands, the Message you heard with your ears – grasp it again and turn back to God. If you pull the covers back over your head and sleep on, oblivious to God, I’ll return when you least expect it, [and] break into your life like a thief in the night.”

The Lord was obviously unhappy with them. But even in his unhappiness he still held out hope for them. Although his message was one of warning and judgment, it was not yet a message of total condemnation. Maybe there still was life in them, but they had to wake up, shake off their worldly stupor, and get back to the basics of being the church. They desperately needed to heed his words of warning and repent of their slothful ways. They needed to reacquaint themselves with the Gospel and start living it, teaching it, and sharing it. If not, ultimate judgment would come, slipping up on them like a thief in the night. Then it would be too late.

There is some good news in all of this. By the grace of God there remained within the church a righteous remnant not afflicted with sloth, or as Peterson puts it, “… a few Christians [among them] who [hadn’t] ruined themselves wallowing in the muck of the world’s ways.” They were the faithful, the ones who were holding fast. They were alive in the faith. They had not grown lazy, soft, and dispassionate. They were marching into eternity with Jesus, their names inscribed in the Book of Life. On that great day yet to come Jesus would present them by name to his Father and all the angelic hosts.

These were the people that the congregation in Sardis needed to emulate. Instead of surrendering to the sloth and decadence of the surrounding culture they needed to follow the example of this righteous remnant. They needed to join them in “[walking] with [the risen Lord], dressed in white” and thus be counted as worthy. They needed to crawl out of their grave, pull themselves up out of their rut, and get on with the business of being God’s faithful people. Maybe more than any other of their sister congregations they needed to “listen to what the Spirit [was] saying to the churches.”

When I’m spending the night in a hotel and absolutely have to be up and about by a certain time I always ask the front desk for a wake-up call. The letter our risen Lord sent to Sardis by way of John the Elder was that church’s wake- up call. It was his way of telling them that crunch time had arrived. It was now or never. Either get with God’s program or die.

Modern churches and modern Christians are not above needing a wake-up call. There are lazy Christians and lazy congregations. There are Christians and congregations who run themselves to death, but do so on automatic pilot. They confuse tons and tons of busywork, often even church work, with God’s work. Committees meet, Sessions make decisions, Bible studies are attended, and worship is conducted. But there’s no passion. It’s simply the same-old, same-old week in and week out as the comfortable, non-challenging rut they’re in slowly turns into a grave. Their salt has lost its saltiness and their light hidden under a bushel.

This same sloth afflicts the wider church. It’s reflected in our denominational debates. Quoting Stephen Shoemaker’s book The Jekyll and Hyde Syndrome, “We seek shortcuts to truth. We crave easy answers politically and religiously. All truth is reduced to slogans. What we call an intellectual debate is a collision of bumper stickers.” We don’t even care enough sometimes to think, to use the minds our God has given us.

And thus it is that we all need an occasional wake-up call. Like that church in Sardis we need to hear our risen Lord say, “I know your works; you have a name of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up and strengthen what remains and is on the point of death, for I have not found your works perfect in the sight of my God. Remember then what you received and heard; obey it, and repent.”

Let us also remember these words from the Sermon on the Mount: “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?”

How indeed? Amen.