I recently heard a story about a small local church that, after years of renting space from another church, bought their own building. They couldn't afford a “good” building in a “good” neighborhood, but they were glad and grateful, especially since they had been treated as renters rather than brothers and sisters. But not long afterward, an out-of-control truck crashed into their new meeting place. This started a sad process with insurance and building inspectors. Hidden structural defects were revealed and the insurance provider found a loophole for not covering all the damage. The inspector would not certify the building for use without major repairs. The congregation had no possible way to pay for those. Having a building is essential for growth, isn't it? It's foundational to how we think about church. What would you have done?

Angry words and lawsuits come to mind. That's the American way, isn't it? But it wasn't theirs. They consulted with the seller, and came up with a remarkable plan. They turned over the insurance settlement to the seller, and walked away, losing considerable money in the process. It was no longer possible to have their own meeting place, honoring Christ would allow no less. They abandoned the structure to save something much more important. Right priorities built on truth led to right, but painful, actions.

My own life experiences have included some truck wrecks. I've found the Body of Christ, The Church, to be “the fullness of Him who fills all in all” as the scriptures proclaim. But I've also often found the outward structure to have hidden damage that renders it unfit for use—unrepairable, and suitable only for abandoning. Indeed, I've fallen through “rotted” floors that looked solid, and sustained great hurt. Some ways of acting, thinking, and governing ourselves are so infected with rot that no repair project is possible.

To be clear, “church-hopping” is the opposite of what I'm trying to describe. We leave behind ways thinking and of doing things rather than leaving people. Intense loyalty to our spiritual family is one of the foundations of our faith. But just as a house, no matter how well built, eventually needs major repair or even replacement, so any human made structure decays. My family, both natural and spiritual, is worth tremendous sacrifice. My house's only real value is as a place for my family. Our means and methods of serving God are, at best, well intentioned human efforts of implementing eternal, unchanging truth that appropriately vary with time and culture. Time has passed and the culture is almost unrecognizable, and soon to become more so. Equally important, we often mistake cultural values, such as democracy and patriotism and prosperity, for Biblical values, and import them without question into our thinking and actions.

Our manner of structuring ourselves is (or should be) first based on scriptural principles. We then look for appropriate ways to implement those within a culture. Buildings with steeples and men with ties are examples of methods that seemed "right" in the first half of the 20th century but are not important to many anymore. We also find ways to adjust to our relationship with the government and the level of prosperity we enjoy. Beginning in Jerusalem and Rome, the Church has often lived with oppression, meeting in secret, while struggling to have sufficient food and shelter. We, however, have very different expectations. Much of our manner of service is based on the assumptions of prosperity and our county's blessing on our endeavors. We have also built parts of the Church with the world's presumptions, equating big with blessed, polished with pleasing God. What will happen if these assumptions are no longer valid?

Imagine. Churches large and small, whose focus has been on buildings rather than ministry, service, and worship, unable to sustain debt payments, closing en-mass in a long economic downturn. Congregations walking away from “under water” mortgages joining home owners who have done the same thing. Derelict buildings, formerly dedicated to the gathering of God's people, added to the already abandoned factories and shopping centers.

Imagine. Governments, strapped for cash, removing tax deductions for church contributions. Governments, strapped for truth, regulating the content of God's message. Governments, strapped for integrity, determining that committed followers of Christ need to be committed to appropriate institutions of detention to eliminate the dissenting voices.

Imagine. The Church, in adversity, immovable, unshakable, becoming stronger in worship and conviction. The Church, in poverty, giving more. The Church, in a hopeless world, extending the hope of glory more than ever before. Imagine that we are a part of that Church because we've followed the example of that small church, making right priorities built on truth rather then assumptions.

But each one should be careful how he builds. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work. 14 If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames. Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple. (1 Corinthians 3)