Our Church Board met Wednesday evening. During the meeting there were discussions and contemplations and explanations and votes. We have a lot of things to deal with right now. Weighty matters that will affect the church long term. You have to have these meetings. Sometimes there are disagreements, sometimes there is uncontrollable laughter, sometimes prayer breaks out. Meetings like this are had in thousands of churches all across the country every month. Personally, I have sat through hundreds of these meetings over the years. I would rather be busy with the Spiritual needs of the church, but meetings such as these are needed so that we can see to the business of God’s people in this community.

          While I don’t particularly enjoy these meetings (don’t get me wrong, they are mostly peaceful and productive), the last item dealt with seriously depressed me. Not just me, either, but all of us. Last Sunday in a place called Sutherland Springs, Texas, a gunman walked into a church and killed over half the congregation that was there that day and wounded many of the rest. The only motive that might have been is that the gunman’s mother-in-law was a member there and his wife attended, but no one is even sure if that was it. Maybe he just wanted to shoot something up and he knew that at church he stood a good chance of getting away. No one knows for sure. First Baptist Church sits about 150 yards off a state road. There is a gas station on the corner, a post office and a bank. Last census there was a population of 643. A tiny little country hamlet. The state allows conceal and carry, so there were probably more than one or two with weapons on them. In Texas, tucking a small handgun into its place on your person is almost as common as putting on your socks. The folks were in church, worshipping, when the gunman walked in and started shooting. No warning, no time to react. Twenty six people died. Think of that.

          We were all thinking of that on Wednesday night. We voted, as a Board, to lock the doors of the church during worship. At 9:40 AM the doors will be locked. The head usher will keep an eye out for anyone running late, but the doors will be locked. The front doors have crash bars, so that they can be easily opened from inside. But someone from the outside would have some difficulty getting in.

          Sutherland Springs is a community much like our community. A small cluster of homes surrounded by farmland. Much hotter in Sutherland Springs than here. Dusty. But the people are similar. Hard workers. Good neighbors. Funerals are community events because, one way or another, the deceased was related to almost everyone. Sutherland Springs has a bank and we have a veterinarian. Not much different. We have always known it could happen here, but Sutherland Springs makes it feel closer. And, apparently, we are not the only church in the area taking precautions. There have been church shootings before, but mostly in larger towns. It didn’t seem likely in places like Urbana or Wabash or North Manchester or Roann. Or in Sutherland Springs, for that matter. Yet, here it is.

          Fifteen years ago, Marsha and I were in Fredericksburg VA for a conference. The conference ran for three days had ended on the last day around two in the afternoon. We used the time to explore that wonderful little city on the banks of the Rappahannock River. The boyhood church of George Washington is there. In George’s time, it was St. George’s Anglian Church. When we were there it was St. George’s Episcopal Church. Washington’s parents are buried in the little cemetery attached to the church. We had wandered around the grounds, looking at everything. It was after six in the evening and I said that I wish we had gotten there earlier so we could have maybe looked inside. Marsha, being Marsha, walked up the steps and tried the door. It opened. We went inside where we saw a sign inviting us in to pray or look. It asked that we stay in the sanctuary. The sign said that the church had never been locked and would never be locked. Always available for the weary traveler looking for Spiritual refreshment. But, times change. The doors are locked today.

          It is a different world, a vicious world. A world where babies die every day and few care because we call it an abortion. A world where a man in Ohio raped and killed an eighteen month old girl a couple of months ago. A world where a man, disgruntled because he lost money gambling, killed fifty five people at a concert. We take comfort in saying it won’t happen here. But it can and may very well happen one day. Some will call for more and more ineffectual gun laws, and then some killer will plow his truck into a crowd. You don’t need a gun to kill. You need an evil spirit. Only God can change an evil heart. No law, no good intentions. Just God and God alone.  

          As a pastor, I would rather die myself than see my people die in that situation. I cannot imagine what it has to be like for Pastor Pomeroy, who not only lost church family, but also lost his daughter in the shooting. That has to be a special agony. Yet, he is standing tall and leading his people. God’s man at God’s place at God’s time.

          It is a sad time. But until we can evangelize the world, we need to protect ourselves. Since we know from the Word that the world will never be evangelized, we need to lock the doors. I am sorry. I am sorry for you good people who have always felt safe and secure in church. I am sorry for your children who will likely not know that safe and secure feeling. And I am sorry for myself. For the first time in 42 years, almost 2200 Sundays, I will enter the pulpit in a church locked to protect the people from the very people we need to reach. This is not good.

          The last two verses in the Bible I leave with you now; He who testifies to these things says, "Surely I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all.  Amen.