Several years ago we were faced with a very tough choice concerning my grandfather and his health. I say it was tough because my mother and uncle had two options, neither of which held out much hope. My grandfather lay there, his insides rotting away. The doctors in our hometown said that surgery would be too risky—that the chances of him dying were too significant. The alternative, though, was nothing other than prolonged misery and eventual death. While neither choice offered much reason for optimism, the choice seemed obvious to everyone. Though the surgery might kill him, it was his only chance at life. The dichotomy of survival and death seems pretty clear cut. In one, our existence is extended; in the other, it isn’t. For many in ministry, the two never seem very far apart. Our churches hang on, but just barely. Satan wants us to believe that as long as we are hanging on, we are fulfilling our purpose. He wants us to believe that being a community of Christ is about staving off death, rather than embracing life. My grandfather was hanging on in his hospital room, but being alive and having life are two different things. The surgeons in our hometown didn’t want to operate on my grandfather. It was too risky; he might die. And worse yet, he might die on their table. For the same reason, we are often reluctant to operate on the diseases in our churches. We make the decision for the church to die slowly, rather than for it to die on our table.

This fear is understandable. Surgeons are often blamed for the deaths of those they operate on, and church leaders are often blamed when a church dies “on their table.” But both the fear and the blame are born out of a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of the church, who brings it into existence, and who sustains it. We struggle to realize two core truths that are capable of relieving a lot of the stress that is associated with a church’s existence. A passage from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians reflects these truths, and reminds us that the power to build and sustain communities in Christ belongs not to ourselves, but to the one we serve.

I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that was given you in Christ Jesus, that in every way you were enriched in him in all speech and all knowledge—even as the testimony about Christ was confirmed among you—so that you are not lacking in any gift, as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. (1 Cor 1:4-9, ESV)

The first truth is, God is the one who sustains us, as this passage so clearly states—“so that you are not lacking in any gift, as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” The promise of God’s presence in ministry and community is embedded in the very language of the apostle. What are we not lacking? We are not lacking any gift. We have the tools that we need to accomplish the task, but it isn’t because we were born with them or developed them or learned them. They were given to us, as God’s gracious gift with which to serve not only him, but also his church. Not only does God give us the gifts we need, but we are assured that we will be sustained until the very end, guiltless. What a blessed assurance, that we are not only given what we need to minister and to serve, but that all of the mistakes we make along the way will be forgotten because of the blood of the Lamb.

The second truth is, the church was called into existence by God. Paul reminds the Corinthians that God is faithful, and offers as proof the fact that it was God who called them into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. The existence of a community of redeemed sinners was made possible by the blood of Christ, not by the words of a preacher. While our words are important, their power is in correlation to their ability to point others to the God who has called and sustained us.

When we remember that it is God who calls us and sustains us a community, then we can take the weight of perpetuating our community’s existence off of our shoulders. We can stop worrying about making a decision that leads to death, and start joyfully embracing the decisions that lead to embodying the life that comes through Christ.

My grandfather eventually had his operation. The operation went well, and we were blessed to be with my grandfather for several more years. The memories of those years were made possible because someone was willing to take a risk. What memories and experiences will our churches miss if all we do is continue to stave off death rather than embrace life?