Worthless Things

 August 3, 2022

“Turn my eyes away from looking at worthless things, and revive me in your way.” —Ps. 119:37

We live in a world filled with worthless things. As a friend and I were talking this morning, the topic drifted to the impending dissolution of the United Methodist Church. A couple years ago, an agreement was hammered out for an “amicable separation,” whereby the conservatives could leave without penalty. Then Covid struck, and our General Conference couldn’t meet. It was rescheduled, only to be postponed for another year. By the time things began to settle out, some of the liberals who had supported the agreement reneged, and we were back to square one.

As it stands now, congregations that want to leave the denomination have to fork over approximately two years’ worth of apportionments, (that amount we are required to send to the denomination each year). In addition, we (appropriately) must pay a percentage of the unfunded pension liability for retired pastors. Some conferences are laying even heavier burdens upon their people, with the result that many congregations will either be buried by these requirements, or will remain in a denomination that is increasingly hostile to their beliefs. My friend said it bluntly: “So you’re being held hostage.”

So what about those “worthless things?” I suspect many congregations will ante up and leave, but the cost will so weigh them down that effective ministry becomes almost impossible. They will retain their property, but won’t be able to afford ministry. Our church recently built a $2 million facility. I began to wonder if we would be willing to walk away from it if it became clear that the cost outweighs the benefits of paying the ransom. We have sunk time and resources into providing a place for a vibrant ministry that is being carried out within these walls. It would be heartbreaking to step away from it all, but I have to ask myself which do I value more—a building, or the people God has called us to love and reach?

Forty years ago, we left a congregation that was filled with young adults and thriving. When we were appointed to Sinclairville, we learned who would be following us in our then present appointment, and we knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. It wasn’t. Inside of six months, the church went from about $6,000 in the black to $1500 in the red (remember, this was a small church forty years ago—these were significant dollars back then), before the congregation imploded. People scattered to other area churches, and a new Full Gospel congregation was formed by some of the disaffected former United Methodists. That church has never recovered. 

But what was eternal endured. Faithful believers continued to worship and serve; only it was in other places. One of those young adults became a Baptist pastor in Texas; another father and son have led the Full Gospel church for these past 40 years. The value wasn’t in the building; for all intents and purposes, it was a worthless thing, like the magnificent temple Jesus predicted would be left with not “one stone upon another.” God values the people, not the place.

I don’t know how all this denominational kerfuffle will play out. I don’t like being held hostage for ransom, and it’s possible that much of what we’ve worked for over the past forty years will simply slip out of our grasp. If so, it’s just worthless stuff. The precious stuff, the valuable stuff isn’t stuff at all; it’s the men and women, girls and boys for whom Christ died and for whose salvation we have labored. It’s just possible that God is giving us an opportunity to turn away our eyes from worthless things. If so, according to this morning’s psalm, revival won’t be far behind.