old churches, transition era

This beautiful old church building in my town was just closed and sold. It was old:

... built between 1870 and 1873 to replace an earlier church. In March 1852 James "Jimmy" Jeffrey, a digger, had preached on a tree stump near the site of the present church in Golden Square. In the same year, Rev Symons, stationed at Castlemaine, purchased a modest timber building at Golden Square which was the first Wesleyan Methodist church in Bendigo. This was replaced in 1859 by a larger stone building. Eventually the congregation outgrew this church and plans were made for a new one. 

http://www.onmydoorstep.com.au/heritage-listing/5282/uniting-church

It was built to hold 1200.  Some older locals recall 1000 people or so used to meet there every Sunday. That's the same era as when the local Anglicans used to hire out the whole train to take people to the church picnic, which people also still recall.  That era faded fast.

Its just been sold, after being decommissioned as a place of worship last year, having dwindled to a handful.

Mixed emotions i suppose, watching that  - the first large church from the goldrush era, from the Methodist revivalism, ending.

 I was tempted to be sad about this, although I'd actually never been inside  (there are quite a few grand old  churches and a couple of cathedrals like that in town, mostly under used and dwindling). But it is just a building - the investment in people is what lasts and matters.  It does seems a sign of the decline of that mode and denomination of church - repeated across the region.   (Some other denominations in renovated factories are now holding good numbers of people - ie a new variation on the old theme).    

However, maybe a new form is needed: less about coming to services in buildings of any form.

It reminds me of a series of images, akin to a gentle vision or trance,  almost day dream like, that  I wrote up last year.

So i'll add it now; the shift from church to hub and dispatch points is in view.

  (*notes at end).

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Seeing.

I saw a church on the top of a cliff with the sea beneath.  It seemed to be an attractive looking church building along classic lines, nice facilities, pews.  I sensed it stood for many churches of that sort.  It was actually sitting out over the edge of the cliff, supported with struts coming out from the rock beneath.

I had a sense that it was “overextended”, culturally as much as anything else.

I also saw that people had laboured to get the building into place – that rollers had been deployed to move it forward, and that people had pushed hard to get it to here. There was a bit of a risk that these methods could result in driving the people,  as if building pyramids, but it did not have to be so  - was also a sense of goodness over things, here.

In any case, it was now pressed up against the top of the cliff.

Despite its seemingly precarious and exposed positions there was no sense of it being in any immediate danger or falling into the sea. I heard the scripture

“To their own master, they stand or fall. And they will stand, for the Lord is able to make them stand. “ (Rom 14:4).   

(Later on I was a bit puzzled as to how it was standing so strong in such an exposed position. I saw large, oversize earth moving machinery as I asked, and had a sense that there was a well developed  “machinery” in the church, its methods and processes,  that has kept it in a safe place even when overextended like this, still connected to the rock with struts.  So there were sophisticated methods of supporting this structure.)

Nevertheless there was a clear sense that it was time to make some adjustment.  Even though it was not in danger of failing, it was still timely to reconsider what to do.

I saw a stone stair case  cut in the rock beside the church. It was a very stable and well made descent, had well laid steps.  It was a secure path, almost like a spiral staircase cut in the rock, leading down.

I could tell going down felt like a relief – descending with feet on the solid rock felt good -  a more natural and safe footing than the structure at the top of the cliff. 

The winding stone path lead down to a large gathering place near the bottom, which was buzzing with activity. It was like a staging point, a hub, and a lot of activity, all of which was very purposeful. 

This hub or staging point place led back inland - there were tracks back towards the land that the churches had once traversed.  

In this dispatch point things  were buzzing as people planned trips.  Young people with backpacks were planning to go in various directions, many were going to fan back out across the same land that the churches had rolled over.  I could sense that they were going to evangelize, in twos or small teams   - land the churches had once pioneered in – and which now needed reaching again. Others were going further afield, overseas.   

I saw Todd ushering a group of people forward. He had both arms out as though herding a flock of animals, although they were a small group of people. A bit like a tour guide escorting people on, but with more serious mission. 

His back was towards the sea and any potential danger. I knew he was willing to try to shield the group, although he was working more by showing a direction and a serious intent to keep them moving.  The group moved forward as he helped escort them. I’d never seen escorting people along a mission  as “shepherding”  before, but it seemed a true picture of that I think.

There was also a round stone clearing near the bottom of the cliff, which could be used as a helicopter pad.   Helicopters buzzed close to the ground as the group moved off on the paths, almost like a military buzz of activity around soldiers.

There was a lot happening here  - everyone had somewhere to go.

As the people streamed down the cliff from the church building, the operation of those who were left  in that structure got more serious and focused and efficient.   It started to shine like a light house – shining a very bright light out across the sea, sweeping from side to side  – warning ships of the rocks below.  I sensed the need for this so that large luxury cruise ships did not run aground.

[I felt some of these ships might be other ministries that were out on the sea – not all churches were represented by the church at the top of the hill – some seemed to out on the sea, large vessels with their own propulsion – seemed some risk of being a bit complacent and self contained in their travels.  They needed some bearings from old landmarks like this to keep off the rocks as well. I also had a sense that the brilliant light from the smaller church, now working like a lighthouse, was still an important warning to the world as well, including its own luxury cruises that could go astray].

This dynamic of letting people out of the over extended building,  down the stair case and fanning them out through the dispatch points below,  seemed like it would last perhaps a generation or two as the church adjusted. The light would shine during this time.

I sensed the brilliant light from that structure in some cases could, at some future point, ultimately end up being decommissioned,  leaving only a glowing red warning or navigation light,  but harder to see in the darkness.

 I saw at the top of the cliff, behind and beside the church, there was a lake that had been turned into a dam.  It was a pretty and peaceful scene.  Boats and people drifted around in a peaceful manner, with mountains in the background. It was a good and scenic place, although the mighty forces had somehow been domesticated into an idyllic picture.  

Then quite suddenly, the lake was released and became a mighty river – full of colour and life. A group of people in a raft were heading straight off the cliff, like over a waterfall,  and then turned in towards the land. This was an exhilarating and rather bouncy ride – it bypassed the gradual descent of the stairs and launched people straight off down the river.  Jess was one of these, about to go over the top and down the river.  I saw Katie S further down the valley, bouncing from one side to the other, touching on the shore here and there, stopping onto the shore every now and then. It was full of life and ornate colours.  It seemed everywhere she landed that revelation and encounters continued even if only during short visits.

There was Life in every aspect by this river. The trees that grew were almost like finely detailed works of art; seemed to be precisely made porcelain somehow. It was a bit of a crazy flow of life and colour, in a wondrous and good way.  (Where the river flows, everything will live – Ezekiel 47).  I knew it might be misunderstood as too weird and vibrant by those not in that flow.

Back at the dam, a few people who had never been in the church structure at all, seemed to go down with the water when it was released to a river, down through a  whirlpool at the bottom, and past a huge slow moving fan. Somehow as they came out the other side they were rapidly launched into helicopters.   Luke was one of these. It was like a rapid release and promotion   – in a grace filled way- to a flying role. Have somtimes seen LP like that too, since then, zipping out over the water,  island to island, piloting.   

Others were finding other ways down the face of the cliff. Some were rappelling straight down. One was climbing sideways, almost crab like, across the face of the cliff . Although that looked rather noble, a figure alone on a huge rockface, I wondered why anyone would bother taking such a hard path when there were other ways down. Then I felt like it was me.  I was a bit frustrated when I recognized that  – seemed I was always prone to take an un-necessarily  difficult and time consuming approach. It appeared there were easier and better ways down – why was I not taking one of those?

As I wrestled with that,  I saw that taking that path over the expanse of rock led out across to the top of a mountain range. On the way one could pause for a while, even talk with some others who would come to rockface from the land, and it was possible to rest in little caves,  before going back to finish the sideways climb.  Up on  the ridgeline there were large eagles nests.

The nests were in a position on the ridge where you could see to both sides of the mountain,. L was in one of these, facing in one direction  – pointing and calling out across the land  - out towards the region where the people had gone.   Up close I could see there were three little camp fires in one of the nests.   Despite  the formidable height on the ridgeline on a mountain,  it felt like a place I had known, and was a safe and even comfortable place.  It fact it was somehow so safe and cosy in this plain nest, that it  could be tempting to sit down there and camp  for too long.  I sensed a vague disquiet about doing that and looked how to move on.   (Later I felt the poetry of Psalm 68 –time to move on from campfires, from the good feathers and comfort, when God was moving over the mountains.)

A little further along was a path with steps leading upwards. I followed them and soon found it leading to a square fortress on the  side of the mountain.  It had large imposing walls and I could sense a role for watchmen on the walls; one on each corner. It looked a bit like the fortress at Masada. From this height you could see a long way down, way down to the river in the valley,  and could make out some of the activities where the people had gone.

All of the action and focus seemed to be in the way the teams had gone.

There was a figure leaning on the balcony of this place who looked welcoming. He was almost shining white. Something about him did not feel quite right,  and I vaguely sensed he might be drawing from odd sources. Still, any support here , any welcoming figure, was hard to resist, given I seemed to be rather alone, and so I temporarily disregarded my uneasy feeling.  I thought maybe it would be alright to see what he was about, even perhaps to partner in some way. He seemed to know the fortress well and showed me the inside. But this turned out to a bad thing.  Once inside the thick walls, the place was dark and gloomy.  

It was  a place where decisions had been made and were still made, and it seemed full of books and scrolls, relics of past councils. Something about that was very enticing – the place of decision making – and yet it was not a place of life, and could easily corrupt those who were drawn in. I could feel many of the decisions here invoked fallen wisdom, the knowledge of good and evil, rather than life.   After a while I began to see a hidden shape in the darkness that decisions were somehow fitting into, and it was the dark outline on the wall of a huge witch – as if the compromises here could amount to a pattern of witchcraft. I could see it would not be obvious at first, since it was a nearly hidden outline in the gloom. It could also become a place where principalities in ‘high places’ were involved, though that was not obvious at first as well.

This inner room was also ‘the death of prophets’. It almost seemed to be its name.  It seemed a bit unfair that this place, which was so hard to reach, could become a snare like this.  It seemed there was a valid role for watchman outside on the walls, to look out to see and report on what was happening and what was approaching.   If those with vision to see remained on the outside, using the height to see what was happening, they would bring useful information, and it would avoid some of fatal compromises.

But for those who were meant to be looking out, it was dangerous to turn inwards into the castle, and join the counsels inside of those thick walls, in the gloom. It made it a hampered and dangerous place - left both the fortress and the people relatively blinded.

Wan creatures seemed to be in the roof of the inner place, long corrupted.

The thick walls also seemed to be any strong system – church, military, government, that could lose touch with, or despise, its watchmen and prophets looking far afield.  Later I realized there were smaller outposts of this fortress,  along that ridgeline,  only able to house one or two people, but which from which it was much easier to keep an outward view; these structures were too small to have an inner room. From there you could really see without the risk of turning inwards to the false safety of the walls.  It seemed they might actually have been a safer posting even though they looked less grand.

 I knew staying inside here, with all the grey fallen wisdom, was fatal.   I looked for a way out and as soon as I did one of the walls opened out and became a ramp.  This led outside  - the only safe place around that structure.

A thin rope bridge with planks stretched across to another peak.   It had missing planks but was still passable. It was not easy to cross. The adjacent peak was covered with thick green heath. Len was there again, somehow.  He seemed pleased to see me, that I’d made it there. Something about this place, although still on a narrow and high peak, felt much healthier than the fortress. Maybe it was less momentous, but also less dangerous.

For some reason I turned to look away from the land, out towards the sea.  A huge figure was emerging up out of the water on the horizon, head and shoulders showing. The huge size of it seemed to indicate a final, climatic showdown of some kind. As it was raised up, swelling the water levels, I remembered the sea represented chaos to the Hebrew mindset, and I wondered if it partly represented climate change and its fears - and perhaps other turmoils coming to a head as well.

 As the thing rose and gathered waters,  the rim of the world was also exposed, and thousand of miles of  reef were laid bare.  It was as if the figure was unwittingly being used to disclose the living work that had been quietly forming, new life coming into the world but hidden beneath the surface. I felt this was revealing a new creation aspect that had been real but mostly hidden till now.

It depended where you looked as to whether  you saw fearsome intimidation or new goodness being revealed, as both were occurring at the same time.

Beside this figure and sea, there was a city full of slender skyscrapers. Revelation and strategy was being given into these tall towers.  This seemed to be the new city we are waiting for, but it also was for now, a  heavenly city overlapping with earthly ones - revelation was being given to business community and to others. The slender buildings seemed to represent revelation being given in a strategic and targeted way. It was as if a kingdom mandate was on them, able to receive from the heavens – like the communication on Jacob’s ladder – they could reach up into heaven’s wisdom and not come under judgments like Babel had. It was also being accelerated –-even as the sea  chaos entity was trying to raise itself to intimidate, beside it.   

Finally, in front of the city was a wide and flat expanse,  a surface that was smooth and solid. It felt like a place of worship. The face of Christ could be clearly seen reflected here – a huge image across the whole smooth surface.

 As the sun shone through clouds, the surface caught and reflected it. The whole space seemed designed to reflect God’s glory and it was soon shining and radiant from the people lifting worship  - not just in song but also somehow connected with the revelation and operations in the city – as though they were also acts of worship that reflected here.

As I watched the glorious intensity of this, a huge foot descended onto the flat plain, with a body ascending higher into the heavens than could be seen. “The earth is His footstool”.  

Somehow all of history, or maybe all redemption history, was contained in the huge figure, stretching further and higher up then could be seen. Every event and place, every green valley and town, each life, every marriage, all community and people  were contained in the huge figure that ascended above.  I’m not sure if it was Him – or His body the church who fills everything in every way.  (Eph 1:23).

Then I seemed to be before Him, as though above clouds, heavenly places, and could sense His intense pleasure and love.  I saw another, C, like an eagle, before Him. The eagle looked a little worn.  There was gold in the wings.

 I think the eagle represented prophets or prophetic roles. I sensed the fragmenting forces and tasks of this life would lose power to pull individual lives apart, to fragment, if we could just see that identity before Him.

I could then see other eagles circling a high mountain. 

So it was like a montage of images, the church letting out people at the top of the cliff, the bands being commissioned at the bottom of the cliff, the smaller church flashing its light out across the sea, the eagles nests and watch towers,  the dim fortress, the sea in turmoil, new creation revealed by the turmoil, the city, adjoined to the solid plain of worship revealing His face, and all for and unto and in Him, standing on and (re)claiming the earth, to heavenly spaces, and eagles and keys to identity, with others, before Him.

* Notes.
 These images came over a few days. . like a continuing thread. 

I’ve added a few comments as to what it seemed to mean, throughout. 

it’s a bit of montage.  It did feel revelatory, as dreams might,  and seemingly orientated around some of the current themes in the church and the era we’re in. It was not a dream, though flowed a bit like one.  Almost like a day dream of connected images, restarting in quiet moments over a few days,  a thread to it, and for those who are used to such things, just an extension of the imagery that pops into mind during prayer. ("It may just be me,  but i saw this picture", says every one who starts to cultivate that listening, and those who know always nod, expecting its probably not "just them" and there is really meaning and mystery to the image). No doubt imperfectly perceived and understood and my own views in the mix.  (This is, incidentally, perhaps the lower level of prophetic listening, fruitful as it can be). 

Most of the individuals I sensed in these scenes, were from a local group, which was a bit unusual – don’t know most of them too well.  In fact it started one day after a meeting with some of them.  I think all probably stand for other similar  types/roles of people too.   ... felt like a wider thing than just them.  I’ve called them all by one initial, now, to make it anonymous, after sharing it with one or two.

5/2017 update : (I see  the stair case as "winding down" of one mode, and calling to new adventures,  via the hub, as part of  all this)