The sign in front of a Birmingham area repair shop seems to be part of a continuing conversation: “We’re Open. All is Well.”

In last Sunday’s Parade magazine, actress Sela Ward talks about turning 50. (We all should look so good at the half-century mark!) For her birthday bash, her family wrote on the barn: “Sela is turning 50–it’s all good.”

A personalized license plate this morning read: “IBAOK.” We take that to mean the owner is claiming he/she is “A-OK.”

Good for them. It’s great to feel good and good to feel great.

Many a church member will tell you their favorite song in the church hymnal is the uplifting “It is Well With My Soul.”

Come on now.

Let’s be honest here.

All is not well, not in the world, not in this country, and to our great sorrow and ultimate shame, not even in Christendom.

There’s trouble in River City; Houston, we have a problem.

There’s trouble inside the house of God.

A longtime friend wrote the other day to explain why her family left the church where they had been members. In a sentence, the pastor had quit preaching the Bible. She said, “He doesn’t even bring a Bible into the pulpit.” She felt like a leper for being among the few to bring the Scriptures to church.

Not good. Yep, time to leave that church. My hunch is the Lord moved His membership some time back.

When this week’s daily Bible reading brought me to Ezekiel chapter 16, everything came to an abrupt stop. I’ve read that chapter repeatedly over the past couple of days and can’t seem to move past it.

That’s a sure sign the Holy Spirit is calling it to my attention.

Bear in mind that Ezekiel is a prophet whose work spanned the time when Judah (Jerusalem was the capital city) was being threatened by Babylon, defeated by Babylon, and carried into exile by Babylon. That’s the 6th century B.C.

The Lord, speaking through His prophet, is driving home the severity of His people’s sins. “Your older sister was Samaria (capital of Israel, long since banished into Assyrian exile and now only a historical footnote), who lived with her daughters to the north of you, and your younger sister was Sodom, who lived with her daughters to the south of you.” (vs. 46)

As bad as were the Samaritans and the Sodomites–both destroyed for their sinfulness ages before–Judah was worse. “You behaved more corruptly than they did.” (vs. 47)

“As I live,” He said, “your sister Sodom and her daughters have not behaved as you and your daughters have.” (vs. 48)

Sodom was–and still is–a byword, a curseword, the ultimate putdown to the Lord’s people.

Did it sting that the Lord called Samaria and Sodom the sisters of Judah?

And did it sting that God says neither city sinned as badly as the people of Judah have?

The Lord adds a little dig. “Didn’t you treat your sister Sodom as an object of scorn when you were proud, before your wickedness was exposed?” (vs. 56-57)

Yep. They did, and so do we.

It’s the David Letterman syndrome: making jokes about those who sin sexually and shamefully when you yourself are guilty of the same or worse.

Now, let’s make a point here. No one is sinless. No one among us has a license to poke fun at the sins of another. Humility is always the order of the day.

After all, this is not Ezekiel opening the wound and pouring in the salt.

This is God. He’s entitled.

As a result, God says, “You yourself must bear the consequences of your indecency and abominations.” (vs. 58)

And, “I will deal with you according to what you have done.” (vs. 59)

There’s another little thing going on in our churches today that lines up perfectly with the trick the Judah-folks were playing on themselves (and they thought, on God): “I’ve accepted Jesus as my Savior, so I’m going to Heaven. Everything else is unimportant.”

I’ve told you of the Catholic woman who came to visit me one day. “I want to ask you about your doctrine,” she said. If I thought I was about to get a convert, I was soon disabused of that notion.

“My ex-husband comes to this church,” she went on. “And he is the sorriest human on the face of the earth. He lies and cheats and is a sorry good-for-nothing. And when I asked him how he ever expects to get to heaven, he says, ‘I know I’m going to Heaven, because I’ve accepted Jesus as my Savior.'”

She looked me in the eye and said, “Pastor, I go to church every morning of my life to keep myself close to the Lord. But if it’s true that all I have to do is pray a little ‘come-into-my-heart-Lord-Jesus prayer’ and then I can go to Heaven regardless of what I do afterwards, I want to join your church. Because your way is a lot easier than mine.”

In all honesty, I did not know her ex-husband so had no way of knowing the facts in this case.

But I confess to you her words have haunted me ever since.

I joined a Southern Baptist church exactly a half-century ago last month. I’ve pastored six churches and been a staff member of another. I love our people and love our churches.

But this woman has a point. There’s not the slightest doubt in my mind that many of our pews are crowded with members who have been deluded into thinking they can live anyway they please and go to Heaven because they “made a decision for Jesus.”

God help us.

We’ll go into this another time, but let us say here–the Lord is not looking for ‘decisions,’ but disciples.

Discipleship is not a religious pill with time-release qualities that kick in at judgement, guaranteed to blind the Lord to our shoddy lives and ungodly behavior.

He who says he loves the Lord ought also to walk as He walked.

I was preaching in the church the Lord had only recently sent me to pastor. From the first, I found it tough sledding. Every time I did something anyone found objectionable, it was the talk of the town. When I preached that God loved people of all races, the rumor mill said I was determined to destroy the church. When I addressed the issues of the day in a biblical way, gossipmongers accused me of preaching a social gospel. The congregation was made up of cliques and clans and clubs.

“We need revival,” I thought, and thus–in the only way my youthful mind knew to bring one about–I invited an evangelist to preach a weeklong meeting. It was a disaster from beginning to end. The attendance, pitiful at the beginning, got worse each night.

The last service of the revival was Sunday morning. The guest preacher did his best, but came up empty. Then he turned it back to me, the pastor.

I’d been in the ministry for some 5 years, but for some reason, had never shed a tear. That was to end that day.

I stood at the altar and said to the congregation, “People, I don’t know what to do.”

“I look out at those gathered this morning and see quite a few who need to come join this church. And I know several of you who need to come for salvation.”

“This morning the evangelist and I assembled all the children and youth into the sanctuary so he could talk with them about their salvation. Usually, some will respond. Today, not one person did.”

“I just want to say to you: I don’t blame you.”

“I wouldn’t join this church either.”

They went into shock.

I did not let up. “There is a bad spirit in this congregation and God is not going to send revival until His people repent.”

At that moment a scripture bobbed to the surface of my mind. I had no idea where it came from or could be located.

“People, the Bible says ‘the time has come when judgement must begin at the house of God.'” (I Peter 4:17) (Modern translations say “with God’s household,” even more pointedly.)

That is the message of Ezekiel.

Lonnie Wascom is the director of missions of the three associations of Southern Baptist churches along the “Northshore” above New Orleans, reaching from Hammond on the west eastward to Covington and on to Slidell. This week Lonnie said a number of his people are so concerned about the complacency of our churches and the crying need for revival that they are forming a “Northshore Awakening” task force to mobilize God’s people toward that end. Great.

I’m no expert on this matter, but I’ll tell you my heart on the subject.

God’s people need to quit blaming Obama and quit pointing at the worldly culture around them and start repenting of their (our) own sinfulness. When the Lord sees humility and contrition, forgiveness and mercy, love and righteousness coming from His own family members, He might be of a mind to trust us with revival.

Until then, I guarantee, no revival.

Why would God send something so precious and fragile to a people who don’t care enough for the real thing to turn off the television or skip a football game in order to meet with the Lord’s people at the House of God on a Sunday night?

Why would He trust us with the precious jewel of revival when we are unfaithful in lesser things?

“This morning, before the guest preacher comes to bring God’s message, let us stand and sing together that old standard, ‘It is Well With My Soul.'”

Is it, now? You sure?

Perhaps we shouldn’t be standing and singing, but kneeling and praying together, “Lord, make it well with my soul.”