The Day the Dead Man Came to Church . . .
I’m not trying to be funny. Indeed, there’s nothing funny about a dead man at church even when he’s laid out by the finest funeral director.
Our dead man was in the shrubs behind the church. More precisely, he was behind the butterfly bushes, surrounded by ornamental evergreens just beyond the church and right by the Family Life Center. The irony of a dead man at the Family Life Center only now occurs to me.
It was Sunday morning. July 13, 2008, to be exact. The senior adult class was entering the educational wing of the Family Life Center when one of their members saw — or thought he saw — a homeless man sleeping among the shrubs in the butterfly garden. With one hand to his lips and the other gesturing toward the prone form, he shushed his companions.
But something — exactly what it was we are not certain — yet, something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the slightly unnatural color of the skin. Maybe it was the absolute stillness of the human form. Whatever it was, something led the good man to check further, to investigate the condition of this “sleeping” man.
That’s when he discovered that the man was dead.
It was about that moment that my eye was drawn beyond the confines of the church office out to the backyard where this good man now paced back and forth gesticulating and talking earnestly into his cellphone. Moments later there were sheriff’s deputies everywhere, ambulances and police dogs, yellow crime scene tape and, then, coroner’s officials swarming over the yard.
It was the Sunday to introduce our new children’s ministry. Awana is well-known throughout the States but new to our congregation and our local missionaries were present to share the beauty of ministering to children with our people. Of course, when they entered the church no one was out front to greet them . . .everyone having gone out back to watch the police work.
What is there about the human body in death — especially in death — that so attracts and fascinates? This, as much as anything else, speaks to me of the sacredness with which God has infused our humanity. It is as if the lifeless human form holds some magical power over the living which renders us incapable of ignoring the fact that there lies one who once inhabited the same world of the living as ourselves.
The short of it is this. . .
He was a 23 year old young man. I will not now discuss the police theories of how he came to be where he was or how he came to die. Suffice it to say, it was apparently neither suicide nor homicide. It was just a boy, a mother’s son, a son of this community, who came to sacred ground, laid down and died.
—
The next evening as I was much pressured to return to our Conference Ordination Service and was leaving toward that end, I came upon a car and a group of the family gathered in the church’s backyard. I quickly parked and began walking toward them, taking note of the fact that these were among the number of those whom Jesus had in mind when He said “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
They turned to meet me. . .mildly defiant in stance and attitude, as if daring me to run them off from this ground rendered sacred by their loved one’s death. It was the same response I have seen hundreds of times when poor trespassers are confronted by “the landowner” (though this land belongs to none but God and His Church). I continued walking toward them and spoke the words I had intended to speak from the beginning: “Are you the victim’s family?” “Yes.” “Ah! Don’t be afraid. You are welcome here! We are all grieving with you; our hearts are broken, too.”
The tears flowed and great sobs shook their bodies. Defiance melted and instantly they were around me. . .touching MY body, embracing ME, stroking me like a mother soothes her worried child. They came touching, touching.
“Where did he die?”
“Come and see.”
Fresh tears. . .
“Will you pray for us?”
“Yes, of course.”
And prayer came easy for tender hearts like these. Prayer that boiled with passion as it swirled like liquid lava from my soul and through my lips. Prayer that ignited my own heart until it turned back to strangle the same voice it had prompted. Then in silent tears I stood weeping among them, our tears a common fount to sanctify the earth where once had lain their loved one.
But in those sorrowful silences we were not alone. I swear by all I know to be real and good that Jesus of Nazareth also came and stood among us. . .put His bleeding hands upon us. . . soothed our broken hearts as only He can do.
—
Then, as if I were some priest-confessor, our corporate prayer gave way to individual prayers. “Pray with me.” And things would be whispered in my ear and passed along to God. Requests which He alone knows how to answer. . .and will.
Our church continues to reach out in ministry to the family. Enough food to feed them for a week or more was produced in short order by some of the cooks of the church. Money was raised to help defray some of the burial expenses. Visitation in the home and prayer, prayer and more prayer has been the order of the day.
They are lovely people.
They are the people Jesus loves.
They are His “other sheep” and I long to be with Him, bringing them home.
Matthew Tietje said,
July 17, 2008 at 7:42 am
This is both terrible and beautiful at the same time. My prayers are with you and with the family now under your wings of ministry.
OlSuit sez…
Thanks for the prayers, Matthew.
Wisdom is what we most need. It’s easy to step on the very people we’re trying to help. I’d like very much for the help we give to be “help”, indeed. By all means, we want to avoid giving the kind of “help” that leaves a person feeling like less a person when they receive it. Prayer will help us to be truly helpful.
Scott Uselman said,
July 17, 2008 at 1:19 pm
You were in the Presence of Christ! Steve, I am proud of your people for preparing the food for a week; because it did not matter whether or not that poor man was a member of your church. It was an opportunity to reveal Christ’s love to them. They many not have known the love of Christ in measurable ways lately. Thank you, and thank your church, for being the Church; the Salt of this world. It would have been easy for you to continue onto ordination service instead of stopping, or should I say, “turning aside,” as Moses did. You were truly on Holy ground.
I wonder if a dead man would wake up all of our churches to the fact that people are living in the “mud hole,” as Joe Dongell put it? And Jesus is that source of love that should be given out through us?
OlSuit sez…
Powerful question there, Pastor Scott. I’ll be thinking on it for awhile, I’m sure. Thanks for sharing it. And I’d like to share your comments with my people, too.
Matt Rampey said,
July 17, 2008 at 7:38 pm
Wow. That’s an amazing story, and you told it well. What would it look like if all of our churches took responsibility to show Christ to those in our neighborhoods like you and yours have done?
You were given an opportunity to display Christ for who He really is: the humble, compassionate servant. I’m glad to see that you and others accurately reflected Him.
OlSuit sez…
Hey, Matt! I’m humbled that you would post a link to this blog on your site. I plan to read your comments publicly in church to let the congregation know that others see and have regard for the loving acts they have undertaken. With your permission, I’d like to share your name with them, too.
A different kind of Sunday « Mattrampey’s Weblog said,
July 18, 2008 at 2:36 pm
[...] The day the dead man came to church [...]
Phillip Modlin said,
July 18, 2008 at 7:18 pm
Steve-o, inspiring . . . and to think that I was upset at you for leaving me to attend ordination service alone
OlSuit sez…
Hey, “Baby-Daddy”!
You will NEVER be alone from now on. Soon there will be a beautiful set of tiny feet tap-tapping around the house after you, climbing down under the car with you when you’re working on it, “helping” you with your sermon with creative little drawings –unintelligible drawings to any but God– but priceless to dad! And, then, all too soon some stranger whisks them away and right out of your life. . .to be replaced by grandbabies!
Nope. You’ll never be alone, again, my friend!
Richard Hall said,
July 23, 2008 at 8:39 am
Wow! Could it just be possible that God placed our churches in the places that they are because he knew that “for such a time as this” would come? Sometimes we look for the better side of town to get us out of our communities, maybe, just maybe we couldn’t be in a better place. I know because I too minister in such a place.
The Body of Christ showed up at Greenville First Wesleyan Church! Way to go. Jesus smiled!
OlSuit sez. . .
You know, Richard. . .you may just have spoken prophetically. Tonight was a vastly different mid-week service from any we’ve had. The Presence of Christ was almost palpable in the atmosphere. Billy & Jo Anne Davis shared about their recent trip to the Brooklyn Tabernacle and the amazing Spirit of God they saw and felt at work there. And then Billy said something to the effect, “You know, we could fill this place up if we just opened the doors to the people of our neighborhood; If we just would be willing to accept them here.”
I tell you, I almost “shouted”! God is up to something here. . .and I want to stay out of the way of it or climb right up on top!
Buddy Rampey said,
July 23, 2008 at 8:00 pm
Your absence at the Ordination Service is hereby excused! Your were at a more important service and they needed you more than we did. I pray that this will help this congregation “turn the corner” and come back to their community and minister in the name of Jesus. You are God’s man now and always.
OlSuit sez. . .
Hey, Bishop!
Your words deeply humble me. I hope to live up to them and serve the Lord and my Bishop honorably until I go “Home”. I love you!
kaddis said,
July 25, 2008 at 11:31 pm
Powerful and inspiring!!
We may joke and carry on alot my brother but I truly thank God for our friendship and your mentorship. The image of Christ-likeness pours from you. May you continue to drench those around you with the love of God!
In Christ til we see Christ…
OlSuit sez. . .
Ken,
I just rolled in from the hospital (at nearly 1:00AM) and I’m greeted by your very generous words. You are the one who’s pouring the “cup of cool water” tonight!
I love ya, man!
Frances Wilson said,
August 1, 2008 at 8:39 am
Great message of God’s Love. The young man was found where his family could be given love and understanding in their time of need. Thanks for always listening to Him. I greatly appreciate you and your family. May the Father richly bless you.
OlSuit sez. . .
Thank you, Frances, for the encouragement and loving words!
God bless you and yours, too.