Last Word: Resounding

On Valentine’s Day 2020, church bells once again pealed across Bedfordshire. The freshly restored belfry at St Lawrence Church, Steppingley, ensured that villagers heard their chimes for the first time in three decades.

At my own church, we don’t have any bells. Part of me would love to install some. They remind me of summer weddings and playing cricket in my youth. But the cost (a mere £15,000 per bell) prevented me from raising it at our church budget meeting.

Centuries ago, however, nearly every church had a bell. For church bells were used to pass on critical information. Before watches, smart phones, and Google reminder apps, bells were primarily used to remind people that church was about to begin. They were also tolled on special occasions. Recently, for example, the bells of Westminster Abbey controversially rang out to celebrate Prince Andrew’s 60th birthday. Another death knell in his public popularity reverberated around the capital. Further back, when Britain was troubled by frequent invasion, church bells were often used to warn villages and towns of an approaching enemy. Accordingly, throughout the Middle Ages you didn’t hear church bells and think

about weddings or cricket. Nor did you wonder if you had time to get to the prayer meeting, or which disgraced Royal’s birthday it was. Rather, the pealing of church bells was a message that prompted radical response. In short, people turned in their tracks, ran as fast as they could, and waited until the King’s army came to rescue them.

The Lord’s message rings out

In 1 Thessalonians 1 we discover a church who responded in such a way. In fact, the gospel so resounded in their hearts that the Lord’s message subsequently ‘rang out from them’ (v.8). Indeed, their response was so loud that others heard it from miles around. Paul says that the strident chimes of the Thessalonian church could be heard from Philippi in Northern Macedonia, to Corinth in Southern Achaia. This church essentially became a church full of church bells.

So what was the gospel commotion that was heard across modern-day Greece? Two sounds could be perceived:

Resonant repentance

Firstly, the churched and the unchurched heard the sound of Thessalonian repentance. The feet of many believers could be heard turning around in the sand. These first-century Greeks had spun 180 degrees and run to serve another. They had ‘turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God’ (v.10).

Like those who responded to the church bells in the Middle Ages, they did not carry on normally after hearing the gospel warning. They did not merrily skip into the village with their friends to take part in what they once did. They heard the gospel, abandoned what their neighbours loved, and ran in the other direction.

One of my chief concerns for many British churches today is that the sound of our repentance is so quiet that those beyond its walls fail to hear anything at all. For, in contrast to the loud and clear repentance of Thessalonians which was heard miles away, we subtly attempt to turn down the volume on our own. Repentance is often a private affair.

At a baptismal service we hear new believers speaking of new life in Christ, but often we hear little of the worldly gods they have cast off (unless they have converted from a mainstream religion). Likewise, when Christians share their testimonies in prayer meetings, we hear of an old life filled with sadness and embitterment, but rarely of an old life filled with idols we have come to accept – money, career, sport, beauty, marriage, sexual immorality, or academic success.

Christians are certainly not called to make a disagreeable din as they throw away their worldly idols (1 Thess. 4:11), and we must be careful that we don’t announce new-found repentance with pious trumpets (Matt. 6:2), but churches should expect a commotion when people turn to the Lord. The death knell of our old life must resound.

Noisy waiting

The second, more surprising, sound that reverberated around Greece was the sound of the Thessalonians waiting.

It’s odd to think of waiting noisily. The doctors’ surgery, the bus stop, and the queue at the post office are often silent affairs. But that is what the Thessalonians did. For people in the surrounding area heard not only that they turned to God from idols, but heard that they were ‘waiting for his Son from heaven… Jesus who rescues from the coming wrath’ (v.10).

And so again, just like church bells in the Middle Ages, those who were convinced by the peals of warning, turned, ran… and waited for rescue. Some villagers, unperturbed by the bells, no doubt scoffed as they heard others hiding in the hills waiting for the king. But one day the truth will be heard and not just seen.

For one day God will judge all idolatry that causes His people misery. And it is only the perfect worshipper, Jesus Christ – the one who has risen from death (v.10) – who can save us from that coming wrath.

Can others hear you running? Can others here you waiting? Will you ring out too?