On a particularly powerful day, I was sitting in a dead church, and I started to become deeply troubled in my spirit. I couldn’t figure out why. After some moments of prayer, I heard the voice of God, “I am not there; come outside. I have risen.” Light from the heavens touched my soul. Slowly, I was pulled outside. The deadness of the church faded away. The streets came into focus. God was on every corner. Light exploded from every heart. My soul knew what this was…the resurrection.
Deeply confused, I asked God, “How can this be?” God did not hesitate, “Remember the time that I went to church?” Dead institutionalism came into focus. I saw God filled with rage. Leaders constantly demanded money. Buildings were more important than the people. Infighting led to abuse. Nobody seemed to come out of the space alive. Pain killed all inkling for God. “I couldn’t just walk away.” God exploded. No table was left unturned. No abuse was left unpunished. No leader was allowed to remain in the room. God cleaned the place clean out. “The people ran from death to life.” Their pain turned into power. In the streets people danced to celebrate their newfound freedom…their resurrection.
In the chaos, God gave me a tattoo. While experiencing the pain of leaving death behind, God put ink on my heart. I couldn’t figure out what it was. “You will like it.” Eventually, the process became relaxing. I knew we were getting close to completion. The finished product was sealed for all of eternity. Light glowed from every mark. Looking down, I slowly read the words, “I am the resurrection.” In that moment, I realized that the resurrection was in me/us…and I/us in it.
Before I knew it, I was back on the street that I’d left. Light was near. I knew that it always would be. Color was everywhere.
The realm of God is resurrected in such streets. Get out of your dead churches and experience it.
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