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I continue to be amazed by our natural beaches. It did not take long to realize how often and how dramatically our St. Simons beaches change throughout and over the years. Sand bars, dunes, tidal pools, and so many other features look very different, especially if we don’t pay attention for a while. When we do notice changes, it can be striking just how different things look. It’s been a while since I walked the bulk of our beach’s length, but when I did walk it recently, I noticed some major changes once again.
At some point in the last year and a half, I took pictures of partially eroded dunes that towered above my head. Now, long stretches of the beach have very few dunes, and in one area, the tide has killed quite a few of the beach shrubs (maybe myrtles?). I am aware that some storms bring sand to our beach, while others strip it away. It is an incredibly dynamic ecosystem, of which we humans are a part. I’ve seen the temporary nesting area of tourists contract in some places, while in others, it seems to expand. The sand at the mouth of Goulds Inlet, for example, currently stretches much farther out towards Sea Island than I can ever remember seeing it.
Sand dunes aren’t just pretty. They provide protection for those who live and work along the coast. They provide a buffer from waves and wind, and dunes function as a kind of natural sand storage system, sometimes adding sand and sometimes releasing it as waves and storms continue their relentless assaults. The delicate grasses and plants that grow on and around the dunes are just one of the intricacies of God’s design in play as nature both destroys and protects.
The current shift in the role of institutions strikes me as a good comparison to the constant shifting of the dunes along our beaches. We are clearly in an era when institutions are in retreat. That is not all bad, and perhaps somewhat natural, but it also comes with some risks. Some institutions have a finite lifespan or need reform, and when they are unable to change, they are simply washed away by the ever-changing forces of culture and time. Generations don’t pass everything along successfully, nor should everything be passed along. Nonetheless, our healthy institutions provide varying degrees of buffer, and we’re learning what happens when they aren’t there.
Most of what we lament about the loss of institutions is probably the sense of community and belonging they provide. As they decline, so rises the reported sense of loneliness and disconnectedness. As waves of change and challenge strike us, there are fewer connective roots under the surface of our communities to hold us together against those tides. It’s not a scenario for Armageddon (I hope), but it is a reality that benefits from acknowledgment and consideration.
Over the last fifteen hundred years, the church may have been the chief institution of humanity. It has survived virtually every other institution, government, society, and unit. While her detractors may say that’s been part of the problem for humanity, it’s not a fair assessment, nor is it the whole story. Surely, the church has fomented division and violence, conquest and slavery, and a host of other sins, but it has also motivated people towards cooperation, peace, and unity. One might argue that people have shaped the church in destructive ways, rather than the other way around.
As the church is being dramatically reshaped at a speed we can see in our own lifetimes, it brings some risk. In theory, a smaller, weaker church has less protection amidst the storms of history as they roll over us. And yet, the church is not weak, and never has been. The church’s effectiveness has never been determined by numbers and raw power. At its most powerful, the church was simple and focused on the teachings of Jesus Christ. Whenever the truth of the Gospel has been shared and lived out, God’s Kingdom has come to bear and stood against the broken kingdoms of this world. We can never forget that the early church was “weak” by every measure of their day, and yet persecution, crucifixion, and imprisonment only made it stronger. God has worked with a lot less than God has to work with in the church today, and to incredible effect.
While few of us will ever live long enough to stroll along the shores of the church over the course of multiple centuries, if we did, I’m sure we’d see just how much it has always changed from season to season. At times it receded, and at other times it grew. In one generation, it protected untold hardship, and in another, it was simply unable to contain the swells of human misery. Through it all, the faithful have taken up their crosses and been faithful, which is more than enough for God to work with.
The church isn’t here just to be pretty, nor is it something we can point to, assuming it will always be as it is today, and doing what we’ve known it to do. It is a dynamic force in God’s creation, sometimes building itself up, and at other times giving itself away, as it always has, and always will. We shouldn’t worry too much about the long term, as God has that under control. All we need to do is remember the important role we play in God’s design, and respond to this changing world with the love of Christ.
