Sunday, March 2, 2014

SERMON ~ 03/02/2014 ~ “The Glory of God”

03/02/2014 ~ Transfiguration Sunday ~ Last Sunday before Lent ~ Exodus 24:12-18; Psalm 2 or Psalm 99; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9 ~ Communion Sunday.

The Glory of God

“Now, to the Israelites the glory of Yahweh, God, was like an all consuming fire on the top of the mountain.” — Exodus 24:17.

When the reading from Exodus was introduced you heard this word: theophany.  That word was defined as a manifestation of the presence of God.

But what is the presence of God?  Is it a feeling?  Is it a form of wisdom or knowledge somehow imparted?  Does it happen only in certain places, under certain circumstances, at certain times?  (Slight pause.)

To be blunt, I am not sure I can offer a definitive definition of theophany.  I can, however, tell you some stories about things that have happened to me.

Are these stories theophanies?  Was the real presence of God with me when these things happened?  I don’t know.  All I can do is tell you the stories.  (Slight pause.)

Toward the end of his life my grandfather suffered a series of relatively minor strokes.  He seemed to bounce back from each quite nicely.  That is until the last one.  He was hospitalized four days and then died.

At the time I was in my early 20s.  I was employed by a major corporation and working the night shift.  Having completed my shift, I left for home at daybreak and took a subway— I was in New York City— I took a subway toward home.

On that trip I had to change trains once.  As I waited on the station for the second train, I had an overwhelming sense that my grandfather had died.  I did not expect he would die since he had bounced back so often.  But I did have a sense it had happened.

When I arrived home I knew something was up as my mother looked distraught.  Holding back tears she said, “Grandpa died.”  I said, “I know.”  (Slight pause.)

I often wonder why she did not question my statement or at least ask me how I knew.  Perhaps it was because I said it with such conviction.  But I did know.

So, what happened?  Did I have some kind of Star Wars sense of a hidden force?  Was I a latter day Obi-Wan Kenobi, able to detect a tear in the fabric of the universe when someone departs these mortal bounds?

Or was that experience a theophany?  Did that knowledge come to me by way of the Spirit of God?  I don’t know.  (Slight pause.)

I have mentioned a number of times my mother died of Cancer at a fairly young age.  She was 58.  Her treatment started with a major operation.

Before that operation, I asked if I could pray with her.  She agreed.  So we sat in a room alone together, held hands and prayed.  At that point in time we did not know how serious her Cancer was.  But at some point in the middle of those prays, I came to a quite unwanted sense that not only was this Cancer serious, it was terminal.  (Slight pause.)

So, what happened?  How did I know that?  Was that experience a theophany?  Did that knowledge come to me by way of the Spirit of God?  I don’t know.  (Slight pause.)

You have heard, probably ad nauseam, about how Bonnie and I met on an island in the middle of Penobscot Bay off the coast of Maine.  The first three days out there were solid Maine fog— pea soup.  You were lucky to see 20 feet down the trail.

On the fourth day the Sun arrived.  There was not a cloud in the sky, nor a breath of wind.  The sea remained as calm as glass well into the afternoon.  If you know anything about Penobscot Bay weather, you know a lack of wind is not a normal trait.

I don’t remember if I asked Bonnie or Bonnie asked me but, given the conditions, we decided to take a canoe out on the incredibly calm ocean.  We had gone maybe a mile off shore when we both heard an odd noise.  “What was that?”  I asked.

Bonnie said, “I don’t know.  Stop paddling.”  And there we sat, in silence, on a calm sea.  There was not a breath of wind and we said not a word.  We simply waited and listened.  (Slight pause.)

Suddenly just in front of us several porpoises breached the water, spines curved, blowing air out their blow holes.  And then just as suddenly they were all around us— twelve, maybe fifteen of them.  And then they simply disappeared.  They were gone.  (Slight pause.)

Still we said nothing.  Without a word we both started to paddle again, knowing that we had seen something so wonderful we felt God was there.  (Slight pause.)

Since we were in the middle of Penobscot Bay, a place with no ambient light, that night we decided to sit on the dock and look at the stars.  As clear as it was— and it was still quite calm— we had no trouble seeing the Milky Way.  Within an hour, the sky in the East slowly got a lighter and a full moon burst over the horizon.

Once again, we realized we were seeing something wonderful.  Was God with us?  I don’t know.  (Slight pause.)  I am certain of this: we both God thought was present.  (Slight pause.)

What is a theophany?  What is the presence of God?  Is it a feeling?  Is it some form of wisdom or knowledge somehow imparted?  Does it happen only in certain places, under certain circumstances, at certain times?  I don’t know.  (Slight pause.)

We find these words in the work known as Exodus: “Now, to the Israelites the glory of Yahweh, God, was like an all consuming fire on the top of the mountain.”  (Slight pause.)

I don’t think a definitive definition of the experience of God can be offered.  In fact, I think any definition of the experience of God is offered only through the telling stories.  And I think that is what we have in this passage from Exodus.

I know this passage is a theophany because the term “the glory of God” is used here.  It is the Hebrew word is kabod.  That means “the glory of God” in Hebrew.  It effectively means the presence of God.

What seems clear to me is the Israelites are not trying to speak about God in literal terms.  They express themselves in terms of story.  And there are, in fact, several sections in the passage meant to indicate different stories, different theophanies.

{Note: as each of these are enumerated, the Pastor counts them off by hold up the number of fingers which represent the number of incidents being listed.}  God speaks to Moses: a theophany.  Moses goes up on the mountain into the clouds: a theophany.  The clouds are pictured as the presence of God: a theophany.

The same presence is seen as an all consuming fire on the top of the mountain: a theophany.  Then God calls to Moses yet again: a theophany.  Finally, Moses disappears in the cloud: a theophany.  (Slight pause.)

What is a theophany?  What is the presence of God?  A feeling, a form of wisdom or knowledge— does it happen only in certain places, under certain circumstances, at certain times?  I don’t know.  (Slight pause.)

In our Newsletter this month our friend and parishioner Lynn Olcott tells a story.  This is what she wrote.

“While shoveling the walk, I fall into conversation with God.  I remark to God on the beauty of the day, the silky snow, the subtly tinted sky and the clean, cold air that is barreling through our valley just now.”

“By the time I reach the end of the walkway we’ve had quite a good discussion about life, about work, about the family and the past.  But what I really need is advice for today.

“I’m getting ready to move.  I’ve moved many times— for necessity, for convenience, for adventure, for love.”

“In my nomadic past I relocated with the carefree, box-slinging, single mindedness of youth and later with the grudging cheerfulness of middle age.  Now I am old.”  (Slight pause.)

“I turn my face into the wind and breathe.  I ask God for the energy to pull this off.  I ask God to fill my mind with sunlight.  I thank God for listening and go back inside to pack another box.”  (Slight pause.)

You see, I think Lynn has the answer about the presence of God.  Yes, God is with us at special times and in special ways.  But God is with us always.

And if we take time to talk with God and to occasionally listen we will realize God is with is.  If we take time to see the face of God in those around us we will know God is with us.  (Slight pause.)

We live in a world that feels busy.  So our tendency is to not take the time we need to be aware of God.  But if we do take that time— no— if we purposefully make that time— then we will realize the Spirit of God is all around us, always.  And that, my friends, is the reality and the consummate definition of theophany— the presence of God is with us always.  Amen.

03/02/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “Let me emphasis once again, the only way to speak about the real presence of God is through story.  That is because, paradoxically, there are no words to define God.  But there are words to describe what it feels like to be in the presence of God.  It has been said many times here in the last several weeks that we are in our 200th year as a Congregation.  Over that time there have been hundreds of stories of our experience of God, which raises a two fold question: what is your experience of God as an individual and what is our experience of God as a Congregation?  Unless we are willing to do what the Israelites did and share those experiences, no one we encounter will recognize us as a church.”

BENEDICTION: Let us go in joy and in love and in peace, for our hope is in the one who has made covenant with us.  God reigns.  Let us go in God’s peace.  And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore.  Amen.

Monday, February 24, 2014

SERMON ~ 02/23/2014 ~ “Another Ten”

02/23/2014 ~ Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18; Psalm 119:33-40; 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23; Matthew 5:38-48.

Another Ten

“You must love your neighbor as you love yourself: I am Yahweh.” — Leviticus 19:18b

Given my background as a professional writer who worked mostly in theater, it might not surprise you if I said I have given the work of an artist— any artist— a lot of thought.  Let me start with a basic premise: there is no way to define art except to say art is in the eye of the beholder.

However, over time, I have come up with a definition of what an artist does in an effort to create art.  To be an artist means you have learned the discipline of being undisciplined.  That statement— the discipline of being undisciplined— might sound a little confusing, so let me start to unpack it.

I believe an artist has to ask what it might be like to think in an undisciplined way or to explore emotions in an undisciplined way or to act in an undisciplined way.  To think, to explore, to act in this undisciplined way could be describe as being all over the map, being disorganized.

However, having gone to this undisciplined place, then that artist needs to bring a sense of discipline to that lack of discipline.  To use a different word, the artist needs to bring a sense of order to that disorder.

Why bring a sense of order to that lack of order?  We humans understand order.  We even impose order when there is little to be seen.

We see animals in clouds or a face on the moon or canals on Mars when they are not actually there.  That’s because order makes sense to us.  We understand order.  We like order.

We also we pick up on order when that order is barely noticeable.  For instance, we recognize subtle body language.  As I am sure you know, people give clues as to what they are thinking.  There are discernable patterns to how we humans physically react.

The ability to recognize those patterns is what separates good poker players from mediocre ones.  A good poker player picks up on the body language of someone who telegraphs the cards they hold by their very body language.  Equally, a good poker player learns to mask their own body language (but that’s a whole other place to go).  (Slight pause.)

I was reminded about order, about bringing discipline to art because a group of fairly well known improvisational comedians have written a text book on how to create improvisational comedy.  This is a book of rules to follow when you improvise.  Now if anything sounds like an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms, that’s it: rules for improvising.

Among the rules for improvising are these: don’t talk about the past or the future.  Don’t talk about people who are not there.  While the book says sometimes you can break rules, the ethos of the manual clearly encourages otherwise. [1]

Or as one of my writing teachers once said: you can’t break the rules unless you know the rules.  And once you know them, you should only break them judiciously.

And that’s what comes with the learning which is the discipline of being undisciplined: knowledge about order.  It turns out that the discipline of being undisciplined is quite orderly.  (Slight pause.)

These words are found in Leviticus: “You must love your neighbor as you love yourself: I am Yahweh.”  (Slight pause.)

The reading today is one of three versions of the so called Ten Commandments found in the Hebrew Scriptures.  I say so called Ten Commandments because in Hebrew none of these lists would be called commandments.

There are two reasons for that.  First, in Hebrew there is no such thing as the command tense.  It does not exist.  Second, in Hebrew these passages would be and are known as ten words or ten instructions.  These are not commandments.  Neither are these rules.

Further, for Israel the concept of holy is pivotal.  And what does holy mean in this context?  Holy is a positive concept associated with the nature of God.  In this context it also expresses a desire on the part of God for human beings to be holy.

So, how can we humans be holy, since we are not God?  (Slight pause.)  Humans can be holy by striving to be ethical.  Given these words, to be ethical is a place to which God calls to us.

For Israel, being ethical is expressed in concrete terms.  Ethics are expressed in actions.

And so, it is with neighbor—with neighbor— that Israel enacts holiness.  Additionally, these words are repeatedly grounded in an assertion by Yahweh, who is holy, that being in relation with neighbor is at the core of ethical behavior.

Thus, this passage links the reality of neighbor to the reality and the holiness of God.  Holiness in heaven is enacted as justice on earth.  In short, Israel has no viable way of being holy except in and through transformed social relations.  (Slight pause.)

That brings me back to the discipline of being undisciplined and the two rules I mentioned for improvisation: don’t talk about the past or the future.  Don’t talk about people who are not there.

You see, the order being brought to improvisation is one of relationship.  Not addressing the past or the future and not talking about people who fail to be present means the actors need to stay in the here and the now.  It means the actors need to relate to those who are present and to what is happening now— relationships.  (Slight pause.)

This seems clear to me: the passage invites us to consider the nature of divine holiness and human holiness and how they are intertwined.  As persons and as communities, we are called to lives of wholeness, completeness embodying through our day to day lives and actions that which God might desire for us.

Theologian Bruce Epperly says those who claim to be the people of God, the church, are challenged to live by a set of values through which we strive to reach out to one another to be community for one another.  We are not thereby “better” or “set apart” as the apple of God’s eye.  Rather, we are called to be mindful of the well-being of all other people, not just those in the immediate community.  We are called to be mindful of the well-being of all other people especially the marginalized and dispossessed.

So, I think Leviticus challenges the people of God to be holy as God is holy.  The claim herein made is that God seeks justice in every aspect of life and asks us to act justly toward all people.  There is an insistence which says all are embraced by the everlasting love of God, regardless of their social position.  (Slight pause.)

We do need to acknowledge this reality: the quest for equality among all people is ultimately an admission and even an affirmation that some are powerless and some have power.  Some people are trapped in economic, legal and political powerlessness, systematic powerlessness.  Others wield economic, legal and political power, systemic power.

Therefore, the counsel found in Leviticus claims an ethic of transformation to act in any social order in which the marginalized lack power.  In that transformation power structures cease to bind and the marginalized are empowered with the full spectrum of human rights.  This is in fact clear: human rights for all people are seen as a part of the order God wants. [2]

And there is that word again: order— the order God wants.  The will of God, to be clear, is not simply about order or orderliness.  These words from Leviticus claim will of God is about the transformation of order— a transformation of order!  Transformed into what?  Transformed into a vision of life, transformed into a vision of community.  A vision of community is the vision God has for us.

That being said, I think the challenge for us lies not in identifying order.  Identifying order, after all, comes to us naturally.  We see order in clouds, on the moon, on Mars.  We see order where there is nothing but chaos.

The challenge for us comes in striving to transform human order, human vision into God’s vision, God’s order.  The challenge comes in striving to transform human order into the justice God sees for our race.  After all, over and over again, in that passage from Leviticus what do we hear?  I am Yahweh.  Love your neighbor.  Amen.

02/23/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “The first words found in Genesis are these: ‘At the beginning of God’s creating of the heaven and the earth— the earth was unformed and void, wild and waste, filled with chaos and emptiness, as night reigned over the surface of the deep, a wind from God, the rushing Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters.  And God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light.’  These words say nothing in particular about the creation.  These words are a theological statement about a creative God who brings order from chaos.  I want to suggest life with God is about order, an ethical order— relationship with our neighbor—  the vision God has for our lives.”

BENEDICTION: Let us recognize that the transforming power of the love God offers is forever among us.  And may we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much.  May we be so in awe of God that we are in awe of no one else and nothing else.  Amen.

[1]  http://www.nytimes.com/2014/02/23/arts/upright-citizens-brigade-writes-its-book-on-improv.html?ref=theater

[2]  http://www.patheos.com/blogs/livingaholyadventure/2014/02/the-adventurous-lectionary-for-february-23-2014/

Sunday, February 16, 2014

SERMON ~ 02/16/2014 ~ “The Straight and Narrow”

02/16/2014 ~ Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Deuteronomy 30:15-20 or Sirach 15:15-20; Psalm 119:1-8; 1 Corinthians 3:1-9; Matthew 5:21-37.

The Straight and Narrow

“Say ‘yes’ when you mean ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when you mean ‘no.’  Anything more than that is from the Evil One.” — Matthew 5:37.

I have said on a number of occasions Bonnie and I are a city mouse, country mouse match.  I am from New York City; Bonnie has roots in the great State of Maine.  But a neutral observer might suggest other differences.

Bonnie’s undergraduate degree is in Heath and Physical Education.  Mine is in Writing and Literature.

Bonnie stayed on track by earning a Master’s Degree in Physical Education.  Mine is in theology, what we euphemistically label a Master of Divinity degree, meaning a degree to prepare pastors.  A seminary professor told me that a writing degree is in line with a Divinity Degree, since pastors are called on to do a great deal of writing.  So, I guess my graduate work is of a piece also.

Now, to say one of us has a totally athletic bent and the other does not is inaccurate.  As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, I played on a softball team for the New York City Parks Championship that made it to the semi-final game in the Borough and County of Queens.

Yes— we lost that game 19 to 1, but we did make it to the semi-finals.  I also said I was 35 before I had my first sit down job.  An active life was not alien to me.

On the other side of this coin, to say Bonnie is not academically inclined lacks credibility.  She is one of the best read people I have ever meet.  She has a passion for the arts and at the risk of embarrassing her— she is as smart as a whip (pardon the cliché).

And we are both sports fans.  But that mutual interest also uncovers some divisions.  I tend to favor games where the action is governed by intrinsic rules— games that don’t have clocks: baseball, tennis, golf.

We overlap on golf but Bonnie, for instance, likes basketball— especially the college game— especially the Hobart Statesmen.  (That’s an inside joke; don’t worry about it. [1])  I, on the other hand, have said all you have to see is the last two minutes of any basketball game and you’ve seen the game.

Why?  The clock in basketball and in other timed sports is overwhelmingly involved in determining the outcome.  Put another way, play an extra period or play one less period and a different team might be the winner.  There’s really n o doubt about that.

However, I think we have a similar approach when it come to understanding what sports are and what they are about.  Sports— all sports, everything from the Olympics to Little League Baseball— are games.

For participants sports offer exercise and training and learning, especially learning about discipline.  I, personally, rate learning about discipline as one of the most important things sports can teach.

And sports offers entertainment for the observer.  So, yes— for us, you and me the observer— it’s fun.  But sports are still games— nothing more, nothing less.  When we give them more import than that, we make a mistake.

Games will not solve the world’s problems, will not end violence or wars or cure hunger or homelessness or disease.  They are games.  To reiterate: Bonnie enjoys sports.  I enjoy sports.  We can learn from them.  But they are games.  (Slight pause.)

This week I came across an article by Brad Griffin.  Brad is a youth pastor and the Associate Director at the Fuller Youth Institute where he develops research-based training for youth workers and parents.

He started the article with what some might think are controversial words (quote): “I’ll be honest: I hate a lot about kids’ sports.  I am the wet blanket in the office about everything from little league to major sporting events.”

Saying this partially because his son is about to start playing organized “T-Ball” Griffin continued, “Mainly I get concerned about the ways our culture obsesses about kids’ performances.  All kinds of parental anxiety and dysfunction plays out on the sidelines, in the bleachers and you only need walk to your local park to catch a glimpse.”

“Sports have potential to build character, perseverance and skill.  Sometimes they succeed.  Other times coaches, parents and mobs of hot-or-cold fans burn out or puff up kids in damaging ways.”

Then Griffin adds this: “Based on psychological research, the three healthiest statements parents can make to children before a competition are: ‘have fun; play hard; I love you.’  After a competition the healthy statements morph slightly: ‘did you have fun?  I’m proud of you.  I love you.’”

Last, he writes, the six most important words any parent can offer a child are these: “I love to watch you play.” [2]  (Slight pause.)

You see I think, sports is not a problem.  As I said, Bonnie and I like sports and clearly so does Mr. Griffin.

But we so often turn sports into more than games.  Paradoxically, especially with children, when we let sports be games, sports do have the potential to have a positive impact.  But if sports become larger for us, central for us, or if they become simply about winning and losing, I think they then become diminished.  And we are at fault if that happens.  (Slight pause.)

We find these words in the Sermon on the Mount in the work commonly called Matthew: “Say ‘yes’ when you mean ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when you mean ‘no.’  Anything more than that is from the Evil One.”  (Slight pause.)

A question was asked by one of the participants in Bible Study on Wednesday as we looked at this passage.  “You can’t possibly take this literally, can you?”  All that stuff about putting you eye out and being thrown intro Gehenna. [3]  “You can’t possibly take this literally, can you?”

“Well,” I said, “that depends on what you mean by taking it literally.”  My answer probably confused everyone.  (Slight pause.)

If I have said this once, I have said it a hundred times.  Never ever, ever ask what Scripture says.  Ask what Scripture means.

Which brings us to what this passage might mean, not what it says.  What underlying import, significance, sense, idea, thought, implication can be found in these words, since on the surface they do sound gruesome and even frightening in places, don’t they?  (Slight pause.)

I think the key to understanding this passage is in that last verse: “Say ‘yes’ when you mean ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when you mean ‘no.’”  I believe what Jesus is addressing is honesty.

But it is not, as we might presume, the honesty of our relationships with each other.  That is exactly what you might assume if you take the passage literally— cut off this or that or the other body part or throw the whole body into Gehenna.

Our relationship with others is not what Jesus is primarily addressing but rather our relationship with God.  Jesus is addressing our covenant commitment with God.

In that commitment Jesus is calling us to a state of wholeness.  Jesus offers this call despite the reality that we reside in a state where brokenness is both real and a given.  We are flawed.

In short, before any temporal consideration, what Jesus is really addressing is spiritual honesty with God.  Jesus is addressing our honesty, the honesty of we who are finite with God who is eternal.  Jesus is addressing our honesty with God from Whom all grace flows.

It is then, only, when the eternal relationship is considered, that our finite relationships with others can be addressed.  Hence, I do not think Jesus addresses the literal in each of the earlier scenarios outlined.  Rather, this is call for an entirely new way of viewing human relationships.

You see, behind the prohibitions in the passage lies a vision of humanity restored to union with God, a place where we do not dwell now.  Behind the prohibitions lies the thought we should not play games with our lives without being aware of the eternal.

To use a common phrase, we are called to the straight and narrow.  Not, however, the way we normally think of the straight and narrow.  We are called there, to the straight and narrow, knowing we are not eternal, knowing we are not perfect, knowing we are not the Alpha or the Omega, knowing we rely on the grace of God, knowing we are flawed, knowing we are not perfect.  (Slight pause.)

Coming back to my first thoughts, my only criticism of sport is not the games, themselves.  It is how we humans twist them into something they are not— something which seems eternal.  After all, what are we doing by giving events names like World Series or Super Bowl, if not making some grandiose, eternal claim?  It would seem our goal is to inflate their importance.

Similarly, we humans seem to twist our relationship with God and our relationships with one another into something they are not.  And what relationship with God and relationships with each other are not is static, motionless, becalmed.

Relationships are, by definition, active— filled with motion, movement.  So, I believe we are called to one thing: not just honesty but honesty with God, who is eternal as we also recognize we are not eternal.  And yes— it’s a tall order, that.  Amen.

02/16/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “Speaking of sports if you have not heard, the film Rocky has been turned into a musical.  It is now in previews on Broadway.  In an interview the actor playing Rocky said felt vulnerable and battered, much like Rocky, who has to fight continually to go the distance and every day step up to the challenge.  Sports metaphors, it turns out, work perfectly for theater, too.  But they work for life also, if you think of life as a grueling enterprise fraught with uncertainty, disappointment, rejection and constant reminders of your own fragility, because that is certainly a reality of life.  And, of course, that is another way of making the same point.  We need to be concerned with the pressures of the temporal without forgetting the eternal.”

BENEDICTION: God heals and restores.  God grants to us the grace and the talent to witness to the love God has for us.  Let us be ready as we go into the world, for we are baptized in the power of the Spirit.  And may the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, keep our minds and hearts in the companionship and will of the Holy Spirit, this day and forever more.  Amen.

[1]  The son of the Director of Music Ministries of the church plays for the Hobart College Basketball team and Bonnie does go to some games.

[2]  http://fulleryouthinstitute.org/blog/the-only-six-words-parents-need-to-say-to-their-kids-about-sportsor-any-per

Note: some phrases are shortened for the sake of brevity.

[3]   When this passage was introduced, this is what was said: “One word in the translation you are about to hear needs to be explained.  It is the Hebrew word Gehenna.  However, many translations translate that word as ‘hell.’  At best, that is a poor translation.  Jesus is recorded as using Gehenna.  This is a place near Jerusalem where followers of various gods sacrificed children in a fire.”

Sunday, February 9, 2014

SERMON ~ 02/09/2014 ~ “You Are the Salt”

02/09/2014 ~ Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 58:1-9a (9b-12); Psalm 112:1-9 (10); 1 Corinthians 2:1-12 (13-16); Matthew 5:13-20.

You Are the Salt

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt were to lose its flavor, how can its saltiness be restored?” — Matthew 5:13.

Many parishioners have heard me say this, but those of you visiting have not. [1]  (Slight pause.)  The denomination in which I grew up was Roman Catholicism.  I grew up as a Roman Catholic.  With a name like Joseph Francis Connolly, Jr., that’s pretty hard to hide.

The neighborhood in which I spent my childhood years was one of German, Irish and Italian immigrants— the Bushwick section of Brooklyn, New York.  When I was young many families were already second, third and even fourth generation in America.  But German and Italian was still spoken in some homes and a hint of lilting Celtic brogue was heard in others.

Now, I have always thought the very name of the Roman church I attended as a youth had the potential to traumatize me for life.  Did it?  Probably not.  But the name of the church which could have had that kind of potential was... Fourteen... Holy... Martyrs.  (That’s all right— I knew a nub by the name of Sister Mary Crown of Thorns.)

I was reminded of the church this week because a pastor friend in the mid-west posted a picture on Facebook.  It was a picture of a church sign on a snow covered lawn.  The message on the sign said: “Whoever has been praying for snow, please stop!”

What caught my eye, however, was not the message about the snow.  What I noticed was the name of the church on the sign: “Fourteen Holy Helpers.”  (Slight pause.)

Ever since the advent of Internet and the accompanying searches I had, on occasion, tried to find some reference other than my childhood church in Brooklyn to Fourteen Holy Martyrs.  I had found none.

But I had never heard of “Fourteen Holy Helpers” or tried an internet search for “Fourteen Holy Helpers.”  I immediately pulled up GOGGLE and searched.

Boom— there it was: Fourteen Holy Helpers.  (Quote:) “The Fourteen Holy Helpers,” a Wikipedia entry said, “are a group of saints venerated together because their intercession is believed to be particularly effective, especially against various diseases.  This was a group of Nothelfer (“helpers of those in need”)— catch the German Nothelfer, “helpers of those in need,”— to whom one would pray for assistance with disease.  And they originated in the 14th century in the Rhineland, largely as a result of the bubonic plague: the Black Death.”

The description said all of the fourteen except one were considered to be martyrs.  But it was also clear not martyrdom but helper was the dominant theme. [2]

Well, having found this, something out of my childhood which I had always thought of as strange and puzzling, suddenly made sense to me.  You see, that church was established in 1887 through the efforts of immigrant German Catholics.  The Fourteen Holy Helpers were from the Rhineland.

I e-mailed my brother and sister with the Fourteen Holy Helpers Wiki entry.  My sister, in return, reminisced.  Our parents, she wrote to me, always said the first thing the church did when it was founded was build a school.

But, she said, it was a very strange school building.  Her reference was to the fact that the church building in which Fourteen Holy Martyrs was located was odd, since one building housed both the church and the school.  The structure was some four stories tall and the church, itself— the worship space— was in the basement, down a short flight of stairs.

There were stained glass windows in the church, which started at street level, about six feet up the wall.  Some sun came in, but it was at an odd angle.  The structure above, those other four stories, housed an elementary school.

I wrote back to my sister.  “Given when the parish was founded— 1887— the historical fact is,” said I, “it made sense to build a school with a church, not a church with a school.  Catholics, you see, were rarely allowed in public schools back then.”

“Even if they were, the King James Bible was a part of the Public School curriculum in that era.  Catholics had their own version of the Bible— the Vulgate— and did not want their children influenced by something approved by a King of England.  That would have especially been true of the Irish immigrants.”

“The real reason so many Catholic schools and Catholic hospitals— hospitals were also a place Catholics might not be welcome— the real reason so many Catholic schools and Catholic hospitals were started in the late 19th Century and the early 20th Century is discrimination against Catholics was rampant.  Remember,” I continued, “the Knights of Columbus was founded as an insurance company in 1882 because Protestants would not sell life insurance to Catholics.”  (Slight pause.)

Now, my guess is that’s one reason I had never heard the words Fourteen Holy Helpers.  The history of these immigrants was that they felt like martyrs.  And when, for them, times changed— and times did change— the name did not.  Generations have long memories and sometimes repeat things not knowing why.  (Slight pause.)

These words are recorded in the work known as Matthew: “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt were to lose its flavor, how can its saltiness be restored?”  (Slight pause.)

So, does discrimination still exist?  The obvious answer is yes.  Rumor to the contrary, society is not perfect.

Further, society often seems to find ways to pick on those we loosely call the outcast, the oppressed.  Indeed, even the very existence of those terms— outcast, oppressed— addresses a broken world.  Society seems intent on expressing anger by creating enemies.  This tendency also addresses a broken promise— a promise made by Christianity— the claim we are all children of God.

So, what can we do about the fact that society often acts in unfair ways?  How can we deal with the fact that society often seems to separate us rather than unify us?  (Slight pause.)

Another friend posted a saying on Facebook this week: “No one expects you to save the world.  Otherwise you would have been born wearing a cape and tights.  Just do the best you can.”  (Slight pause.)

I don’t think there would be any doubt about this.  Few of us feel called to save the world.  Indeed, if one claimed that kind of grandiose call, then one’s sanity Would be questioned.

I think another truth is most of us would rather be helpers than leaders and we clearly would rather be helpers than martyrs.  So perhaps the real questions we need to ask concern how— how can we be helpers?  How are we helpers?  How do we help?  (Slight pause.)

I want to suggest the Prophet Isaiah has the answer to those questions (quote): “...you will be called the Repairer of Breaches, / the Repairer of Broken Walls, / the Restorer of Streets, / the Restorer of Ruined Neighborhoods.” [3]  (Slight pause.)

You see, anyone can slay a dragon.  That’s because slaying dragons does not define heroism.  Try, on the other hand, waking up every morning and loving anyone and everyone you meet.  That takes real heroism.  (Slight pause.)

Our work, our call, is not to judge.  Our work, our call, is not to figure out if someone deserves something.  Our work, our call, is to lift the fallen.  Our work, our call, is to restore the broken.  Our work, our call, is to heal the hurting.

So, how does that get done?  How do we do that?  After all, lifting those who have a fall, restoring those who have been broken, healing those who have been hurt sounds like a lot of work, does it not?  (Slight pause.)

I believe lifting those who have had a fall, restoring those who have been broken, healing those who have been hurt is really a lot simpler than it sounds.  It is work.  But is simpler than it sounds.  First, we need to put aside our own agendas.

Why?  Not because we, ourselves, fail to have issues.  We need to put aside our own agendas so we can listen deeply to another person.  That cannot happen when we get in the way.  We need to put aside our own agendas so we can be fully present to another person.  That cannot happen when we get in the way.

When we listen, when we are fully present— that is when we can start to help each other.  That is when we can start to lift those who have had a fall, restore those who have been broken, help heal those who have been hurt.

Next, we need to remember God is in charge.  And we need to remember, if we are willing to listen to and to do the will of God, God will use our hands to be helping hands.  If we are willing to listen to and to do the will of God, God will use our feet to go to places where need exists.

The mission to which God invites us is not to save the world.  The mission to which God invites us is one where we help.  The mission to which God invites us is one where we recognize every person we meet is our brother or sister.  The mission to which God invites us is one where we recognize every person we meet is a member of our family.

So, do me a favor.  Look around you.  Just turn your heads— take a look.  Every person here is a member of your family.  And every person here has a need.  (Slight pause.)

You see, Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth;....”  If that’s true, if we are the salt of the earth, we are called to help each other, to reach out to one another, to be one family, to be the family of God.  Amen.

02/09/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “Another story about a Facebook post: I saw a cartoon this week of a line of people coming to a fork in the road.  The sign pointing to the left fork said: ‘Justice, Peace, Love.’  The sign on the right fork said: ‘Burgers 99¢’.  And everyone was going to the right fork, headed to burger land.  You see, the world is broken.  Can we fix it all, the whole world?  No.  But maybe if we occasionally take the fork in the road that says ‘Justice, Peace, Love,’ it might help our world just a little.”

BENEDICTION: We are commissioned by God to carry the peace of God into the world.  Our words and our deeds will be used by God, for we become messengers of the Word of God in our actions.  Let us recognize that the transforming power of God is forever among us.  And may we love God so much, that we love nothing else too much.  May we be so in awe of God that we are in awe of no one and nothing else.  Amen.

[1]  This was “Bring a Friend or Family Sunday.”  As an enticement, the coffee hour was also a “Sweet Tooth” coffee hour, when people brought deserts of their choice.  Note: there were some “non sugar” items.

[2]  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourteen_Holy_Helpers

[3]  Isaiah 58:12b.


Sunday, February 2, 2014

SERMON ~ 02/02/2014 ~ “Searching”

02/02/2014 ~ Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Micah 6:1-8; Psalm 15; 1 Corinthians 1:18-31; Matthew 5:1-12 ~ Communion Sunday ~ Super Bowl Sunday ~ “Souper Bowl Sunday.”

NOTE: 02/02/14 ~ Presentation of the Lord ~ Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 84 or Psalm 24:7-10; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40.

Searching

“Where are the wise?  Where are the scribes?  Where are the scholars?  Where are the debaters?  Where are the philosophers of this age?” — 1 Corinthians 1:20a

The Rev. Roger Wolsey is an ordained United Methodist Elder who directs the Wesley Foundation at the University of Colorado in Boulder.  He is also the author of Kissing Fish: Christianity for People Who Don’t Like Christianity.

In a recent article Wolsey said this: the word Religion comes to us from the Latin religare.  The word means “to bind together.”  Biologists, anthropologists and sociologists all contend humans are social creatures.

Practitioners of these varied disciplines also insist we are at our best when we associate and interact with others.  Granted, some of us are introverted.  Introverts need space and time— a friend of mine likes to call it cave time— introverts need space and time away from others more so than extroverts.

Extroverts are, of course, those who tend to not just enjoy crowds and noise but revel in them.  (Fun fact— the majority of Americans are extroverts.)

I would suggest one reason sports events are so popular is not just the competition or amusement they provide but the chance to interact with a crowd of people.  Indeed, extraverts enjoy crowds and introverts know they can get lost in a crowd and no one will notice them.

But even the most introverted among us would probably admit they enjoy other people and thrive because of them.  Introverts just don’t want an overwhelming diet of crowds.

Which is to say if you do not, to a certain extent, enjoy others and thrive because of them, you should not be living anywhere near people.  You probably need be living deep in the woods of Wyoming or Montana... or maybe even the tundras of Antarctica but not anywhere near people.

Here’s another way of looking at that, another way of saying that: we humans are social creatures.  There is strength in numbers.

Indeed, put yet another way, Rosa Parks could not have helped end racial segregation in the South by herself.  It required the combined, organized efforts of many kindred spirits joined together.

And how was that effort organized?  In what ways did the Civil Rights movement sustain itself?

The record shows the movement frequently relied on workshops, on trainings and on town forums for those who were directly involved and for the whole community, even those not directly involved.  The whole community, you see, needed to understand what was happening and to, therefore, be involved in some way.

Additionally, the record shows there was a great reliance on prayer and on worship.  At least in part, what was that prayer and worship about?

There is no doubt about this.  Prayer and worship involve social contact.  Prayer and worship involve feeling mutual support from others.  Prayer and worship involve people relying on people relying on people relying on people.

Indeed, the Civil Rights movement was not just an example of Christianity at its best, although it was that.  The Civil Rights movement was an example of what we humans do at our best.  We are social creatures.  We rely on one another.  We are neighbors. [1]  (Slight pause.)

These words are recorded in the work known as First Corinthians: “Where are the wise?  Where are the scribes?  Where are the scholars?  Where are the debaters?  Where are the philosophers of this age?”  (Slight pause.)

Today’s Scriptures turn the social norms of society upside down.  Blessed are those who are gentle.  Blessed are those whose hearts are clean.  The race is not always to the swift.  The powerful don’t always win.

But, as was suggested when the Corinthians reading was introduced, this is not really about social norms.  After all, as much as we might like to think the race does not always belong to the swift it often does.  And the powerful do often win.  So this is not about social norms.

Put another way, many of us would take the world we know break it into the social norm of winners and losers.  Probably doing that at about 10 p.m. tonight, right? [1]  But this is not about winning and losing, a normal state for the world.  This is about theology.

Indeed, those to whom Paul writes in Corinth are a polarized group.  They must have been astounded by these words about the swift and powerful.

When I say the Corinthians are polarized, we know Paul writes to the Corinthians because they are a church having battles among its members.  And the battles have winners and losers.  Conflict in a church— that never happens, right?

Further, I would suggest that the battles at the Church in Corinth were not as much about the particulars of theology or even ecclesiology— how a church runs itself.  I think it’s much more likely the Corinthians were divided by their own self centered win/lose points of view.  In short, they placed victory ahead of the well-being of their brothers and sisters in Christ.

And so Paul strives to direct them to a theological perspective.  And what is that theological perspective?  How should you treat brothers and sisters in Christ?  Who are your brothers and sisters in Christ?

Brothers and sisters in Christ— let me put that in a slightly different way— community of Christ.  A community of Christ is not about wining and losing.  And even more importantly, a community of Christ is not about who wins and who loses.  A community of Christ is about loving God and loving neighbor.  (Slight pause.)

And so, “Where are the wise?  Where are the scribes?  Where are the scholars?  Where are the debaters?  Where are the philosophers of this age?”  (Slight pause.)

Cornel West is the Professor of Philosophy and Christian Practice at the Union Theological Seminary.  He says this (quote): “Never forget... justice... justice is what love looks like in public.”

And what did Jesus say?  Blessed are those who are poor in spirit, those who are mourning, those who are gentle, those who hunger and thirst for justice, those who show mercy to others, those whose hearts are clean, those who work for peace, those who are persecuted.

In short, the wise, the scribes, the scholars, the debaters, the philosophers of this age are not those who seek to separate winners and losers into groups and thereby label them as deserving and undeserving.  The wise, the scribes, the scholars, the debaters, the philosophers of this age are those who seek to live out the reality of community, those who seek to be in the community of Christ.

And what is the community of Christ?  It’s where loving God and loving neighbor is our only guide.  (Slight pause.)

The motto of the United Church of Christ— this strange union of churches we call a denomination states this, it quotes John, states this: “That they may all be one.”  If we live out that statement then loving God and loving neighbor ceases to be mere lip service and if we live out that motto we are all one.  Amen.

02/02/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “Miroslav Volf is a Professor of Theology at Yale Divinity School and the Director of the Yale Center for Faith and Culture.  He says this (quote): ‘Theology is not only about understanding the world; it is about mending the world.’  I might add that’s what a sound theology does— mend the world.  And there is no way to mend the world other than to start with an understanding which says the world is our community.”

BENEDICTION: Through God’s grace, by being attentive to God’s will, our deeds and our words will change our world for we will discover ways to proclaim release from the bondage of narrowness.  Let us seek the God of Joy.   Let us go in peace to love and serve God.  Amen.

[1]  Note: the words of Wolsey are paraphrased.  Any alteration of meaning is the fault of the writer of this piece, not of Wolsey.
 http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogerwolsey/2014/01/7-ways-to-find-a-progressive-church/

[2]   This is Super Bowl Sunday.  There will be a winner and there will be a loser.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

SERMON ~ 01/26/2014 ~ “The Message”

01/26/2014 ~ Third Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27:1, 4-9; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23 ~ Annual Budget Meeting. [1]

The Message

“...the message of the cross is foolishness, complete absurdity, to those who are headed for ruin, but to us who are experiencing salvation, it is the power of God.” — 1 Corinthians 1:18.

Well, here we are: in our two hundredth year. [The pastor places his hands over his eyes as if looking is the distance while blocking the sun.]  Funny, you don’t look that old.  But it is, of course, some two hundred years since Congregationalists took a stand to plant ourselves in the Chenango Valley.  And we are a part of that history.  (Slight pause.)

However, let me look at this and at us from a different perspective, another prism.  By calculations on some calendars, here we are about two thousand years or so since Jesus was raised.  And guess what?  You still don’t look that old.  But we are a part of that history.

So, let me look at this and us from yet another perspective, another prism.  We are still going strong after some five thousand seven hundred and seventy four years on the Jewish calendar.  And we are, as was Jesus, within that old, ancient tradition, that part of history.  And guess what?  You still don’t look that old.

Why do I say you still don’t look that old?  Because I want to look at this and at us from yet another perspective, another prism.  Our best estimates suggest the known universe is some 13.8 billion light years across.

As I am sure you know, light travels at 186,000 miles per second and a light year is the distance light travels in one of our calendar years.  13.8 billion light years— that’s a whole lot of miles and a whole lot of time.

And maybe we do look old from that perspective.  But my point is not age.  My point is... perspective.  (Slight pause.)

Question: from what perspective was Paul looking when he said (quote): “...the message of the cross is foolishness,...”  (Slight pause.)  I believe we, in the West, have looked at the cross from a strange, odd perspective for quite a while.  Or at least it would have been a strange and odd perspective from the point of view Paul had.

And what was that point of view, the perspective of Paul?  Well, first things first.  Did Christ die on the cross?  Yes.  There is no question about it.  And we Westerners tend to associate the cross with death.

Now, why was Christ crucified?  There is no question about this, either.  Christ was an enemy of the state.

Indeed, many of the terms commonly applied to Christ, some in Scripture, some outside of Scripture— Lord, King, Prince of Peace, divine, holy— all these were also assigned to Caesar Augustus.  All these terms were commonly assigned to Caesar Augustus.  Even the name Augustus means ‘venerable.’

Augustus was, you see, not just the head of state.  Augustus was the state.  The state was venerated.  So we need to realize when these terms— Lord, King, Prince of Peace, divine, holy— when these terms are originally applied to Christ, they are meant to mock the state.

Additionally, and again from the perspective of Paul, historians estimate that Jesus was one of perhaps 10,000 Jews executed by the state, by Rome, each year.  So, Jesus is simply one of many Jewish enemies of the state.

And yes, Jesus died on the cross.  For Paul that is real.  But if Jesus is one of 10,000 dead Jews that year, from the perspective of Paul, how can the death of Jesus make the cross “foolishness?”  (Slight pause.)

I think the cross, itself, is not what makes the cross absurd.  It is the resurrection.

You see, in early Christian art, there is never a body on the cross.  The cross is always empty.  In early Christian art, the cross is not meant to recall death.  It is meant to recall life, meant to recall the resurrection.

And that, my friends is the perspective of Paul.  That is what makes the cross “foolishness.”  The cross is empty.  From the perspective of Paul Jesus lives.  And for Paul that is real, more real than the cross, more real than death.  (Slight pause.)

Well, what is the message we need to take away from our 200 years, our 2,014 years, our 5,774 years, our 13.8 billion light years?  Put another way, from what perspective do we need to look when we see the empty cross?

I think we need to look at the cross from the same perspective Paul looked at the cross.  We need to look at the cross understanding God is greater than we can imagine.

We need to look at the cross understanding, trusting, believing not in death but understanding, trusting, believing Christ has been raised.  Indeed, from the perspective of Paul: Christ lives, Christ has been raised.  That is the message of the cross.  (Slight pause.)

So, I supposed the only question to be addressed is this: what message might the empty cross have for us after 200 years, 2,014 years, 5,774 years, 13.8 billion light years?  For me, the message is made clear by the resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah: Jesus lives.  God is with us now.  God is with us always.  God is with us throughout eternity.  Eternity— now there’s a long time.  Amen.

01/26/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “So, here is a paradox for you: when you grapple with the idea that Jesus has been raised you are grappling with a spiritual experience not a logical or a physical experience.  20th Century Jesuit and theologian Karl Rahner said if Western Christianity does not rediscover its mystical foundations and roots, we might as well close the doors of the churches.  Until people have had some level of inner religious experience, there is no point in asking them to follow the ethical ideals of Jesus or to understand Christian doctrines.  Jesus has been raised: a spiritual experience.”

BENEDICTION: Go now— go in safety— for you cannot go where God is not.  Go now— go in love— for love alone endures.  Go now— go with purpose— and God will honor your dedication.  And go now— go in peace— for it is a gift of God to those whose hearts and minds are in Christ Jesus.  Amen.

[1]  It should be noted that this meditation is shorter than most because the Annual Budget Meeting happens in the course of the service of worship.  As might be obvious from the context of the opening remarks, this year is the 200th anniversary of the church.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

SERMON ~ 01/19/2014 ~ “The Church”

01/19/2014 ~ Second Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Known in Some Traditions as the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42 ~ Weekend of the MLK Holiday ~ BTS Center Convocation Week.

The Church

“To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified, consecrated, in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God, together with all those who, wherever they may be, call on the name of Jesus, the Christ, who is both their Savior and ours:...” — 1 Corinthians 1:2.

The information I’m about to offer you would get in a Bible As Literature undergraduate course in many colleges.  Scholars believe Paul wrote only seven of the thirteen letters attributed to the Apostle.

It is also thought the first Epistle written, the earliest work in the Christian Scriptures, was to the church— ‘church’ meaning people, members of the church— the earliest Epistle written was to people in the Greek City of Thessalonika.  That work is commonly called First Thessalonians and was composed about the year 52 of the Common Era.

The date most often assigned to the writing we heard today, First Corinthians, is 54 of the Common Era.  We are fairly confident Paul died about the year 64.  Hence, none of the seven letters authored by the Apostle could have been written at a later date.

We are fairly confident Jesus was raised in what we would call the year 30 of the Common Era.  Scholars are equally confident the four Gospels were unlikely to have been composed until after the year 70, the first one being Mark.  John was the last Gospel written as you heard earlier and it probably reached it’s final form about the year 100. [1]

What should be, therefore, obvious is twofold.  First, the true Letters of Paul were composed before any of the Gospels.  Second, the Gospels were recorded at least 40 years after Jesus had been raised.  One was written some 70 years later.

So, I would also invite you to note when the works of Paul are considered— the works of Paul: First Thessalonians, Philippians, First and Second Corinthians, Galatians, Romans and Philemon— only Philemon, a personal letter to a friend— is not written to a community of faith.  Only one letter of the seven is not written to a church.

Paul writes to churches, people.  Paul writes to churches in towns we would today locate in Greece and Turkey— the towns of Thessalonika, Philippi, Corinth, Galatia.  Finally Paul, knowing a trip to this location is about to be undertaken, writes a letter to the church, the community of faith, the people— the people in the church, in that group— located in the capital city of the Empire— Rome.

Some of these towns to which Paul writes are quite large.  Those who study demographics in ancient times believe Rome had as many as 1,000,000 residents.  And the Mediterranean Basin probably had better than 40,000,000 people.

I mention all these facts and statistics in order to ask a question: ‘what do those churches to whom Paul writes look like?’  ‘How many people do you think are in these churches to whom Paul writes?’  (Slight pause.)  Now, do me a favor: if you’ve thought of a number, hold that number in your thoughts for a moment— number of people in that church, any of these churches.  (Slight pause.)

Would it alter the number on which you decided if I told you historians believe that by the year 100 of the Common Era— 70 years after the resurrection of Jesus, 36 years after the death of Paul— the entire Mediterranean Basin with its 40,000,000 souls, had a Christian population of less than 10,000?  (Slight pause.)  You see, my point is when Paul is writing to all these churches— and clearly for two millennia we have treasured these letters— when Paul is writing to all these churches, they are made up of maybe 50 people each.

They meet in houses, not in public buildings.  In short, they are what we in today’s society, would call small churches.

I was reminded of all this when I went to a clergy meeting this week.  My colleague and friend, the Rev. Dr. Stephen Johnson, said something I knew.  But he said it in a way I’d never heard it said before.

He said we tend to have the church of the 1950s stuck in our heads as a template. Therefore, what we fail to realize is the numbers we saw in the churches in the 1950s are a total anomaly, a very, very large deviation from what was historically normal.

How different was it?  Well, we probably all think that at the time of the American Revolution everyone was God fearing— right?  It’s often said today that this is a ‘Christian Nation’ and was founded by Christians.

Well, everyone might have been God fearing while the Revolution was in progress.  But was everyone in church?  No.  In fact, the percentage of the population who were church members in 1776 was about 17%.  (And the attendance was lower than that.)

So, what is (pardon the expression) ‘normal?’  (Slight pause.)  I admit, the numbers I’m about to quote are a little out of date but not terribly so.  And they do offer a realistic picture of what the church mostly looks like today.  And these numbers might be a surprise to you also.

The percentage of churches with a weekly attendance— that’s an attendance— of 1,000 or more— your Joel Osteen, Robert Schuler style churches— churches with an attendance of 1,000 or more are less that one half of one percent of all the churches in America.  Churches with a membership— that’s a membership not an attendance— churches with a membership of 100 or less number just over 50 percent of all the churches in America.  (Slight pause.)  So, what is normal?  How should church be defined?  (Slight pause.)

These words are in Fist Corinthians: “To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified, consecrated, in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God, together with all those who, wherever they may be, call on the name of Jesus, the Christ, who is both their Savior and ours:...”  (Slight pause.)

I think for Paul what is normal is quite obvious.  For Paul normal is when church is defined as an assembly of people, no matter how many, who are called to be saints.  Saints are people set apart to do the work of God and the will of God.  (Slight pause.)

We humans have an interesting trait.  We like to organize and, rumor to the contrary, we like to be organized.  So, I think somewhere along the line Christianity, the church— which Paul describes as people called to be saints— this being called to be saints stopped being how we did church, stopped being what church is about.

What took over?  What replaced Christianity?  Church-ianity.  We got organized.  And church became about being organized instead of doing the work of God, instead of doing the will of God, instead of listening for the call of God.  (Slight pause.)

I am sure you’ve noticed after the resurrection the descriptions of church structure in Scripture say there are only two offices.  These are Deacons and Apostles.

In one sense, everyone is a Deacon.  It’s not an elected office.  Everyone is called to feed the hungry, clothe those in tatters, shelter the homeless.

The only reason the Apostles are split out is the work of the saints, the people of the church— feeding, clothing, sheltering— is so time consuming the Apostles need to be set apart so they can spend some time teaching.  All of which is to say if there are only two real offices in the church Paul knew— that’s not a lot of structure; that’s not a lot of organization.  (Slight pause.)

And guess what?  Next week we will have the Annual Budget Meeting of the church in the 200th year of our organization.  There’s that word again— organization.

Those of you who know me well realize I fully appreciate organization.  Indeed, once it was known our church had re-worked its by-laws after I arrived, I was invited (that’s a euphuism) to participate in re-working the by-laws of both the Association and the Conference.  

I suppose what I am trying to say is organization is important.  But it is not church.  Church is doing the work of God, the will of God, listening for the call of God.

Indeed, this weekend we celebrate the birth of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  And why is it we celebrate King?  Many will tell you we celebrate King because this cleric offered leadership to the Civil Rights movement.

I would maintain the real reason we celebrate King is the understanding of the work of the church as opposed to the organization known as church King brought to the mix.  King understood doing the work of God, the will of God, listening for the call of God is vital.  (Slight pause.)

So, what is church?  How do we define church?  When we start defining church with numbers, through buildings, with budgets, with by-laws we have it wrong.  Church is people who are, in the words of Paul, “...called to be saints, a people set apart for the work of God,...”  Amen.

01/19/2014
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE— It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “When we think church is about organization, it follows naturally that we might want to evangelize.  After all, that’s the only way to grow an organization.  Ask any Rotarian. Well, consider this from Barbara Brown Taylor: ‘The Desert Fathers and Mothers say the hardest spiritual work is to love the neighbor as the self— to encounter another not as someone you can use, change, fix, help, save, enroll, convince or control but as someone who can spring you from the prison of yourself, if you allow it....  And this can be as frightening as it is liberating as anything and may be the only real spiritual discipline.’”

BENEDICTION: Let us learn as faithful disciples of Christ.  Let us know that God is available to us at any time and in any place.  Let us give thanks for the grace of God in Christ, Jesus.  Let us trust in God for all time and for all eternity.  Amen.

[1]  When the Gospel reading from John was introduced, this fact was mentioned.