Sour Grapes, Sound Doctrines and Surly Judges
October 21, 2007
The texts we’ve read this morning offer more than just the opportunity for an alliterative title – although that’s nothing to be scoffed at! Something interesting is going on in each of these passages, and taken together, there is a powerful word from God for us this morning.
But before we look at that, let’s look at ourselves for just a moment – at this congregation – and see what word from God is emerging from our own experience – from the texts of our very lives, if you will.
Lately I’ve been sensing a growth of fearfulness among us, and an inward turn that I think indicates what, in the business world, might be called “mission drift.”
I’ve heard it suggested that we’ve put brand-spanking new doors on the place just in time to close the doors on the church.
I don’t believe that’s what God has in mind here, and I do believe that, in the end, God gets what God wants. Of course, if we’ve discerned wisely and well that God desires a vibrant, growing community of progressive Christian faith in this place, then it is abundantly clear that we must change.
Why call an inward turn “mission drift”? Because our mission, as Christians, must always be focused outward.
But I’m going to begin with an inward turn of confession. I don’t think I’ve done a very good job leading change here of late. I’ve let myself get distracted by the complications of property transactions and let myself get dragged down emotionally and spiritually by the challenges of this building and our budget.
At the same time, I’ve been drawn into some exciting ministry beyond the walls of Clarendon. I’m not sorry for that, but I am sorry for this: I’ve failed to bring you along with me into that ministry to share the excitement. So, I apologize for those failures. I ask your forgiveness, seek your renewed engagement and promise my own.
I cannot tell you now where all of this may lead us in the future, but I trust that God has great things in store for this community of faith. So let’s get on with it.
As we get on with it, we shall be guided by several touchstones of our faith, that are underscored in this morning’s readings:
First, we rely on God, and the covenant that God has inscribed in our souls. Let’s not have sour grapes about past errors, but rather let’s hold one another accountable to living together as a covenant community that cares deeply about the state of the broader church and of the world, and that bears one another’s burdens, binds one another up and loves one another as we together do the work of caring for that church and world.
Second, we pray without ceasing and with an urgency that reflects the deep brokenness of the church and world. Like the widow in Luke’s story, we come to God in prayer with an urgent demand: thy kingdom come – Now! Thy beloved community come – this day!
Further, just as Jesus came in a specific time to specific people, our urgent cries for justice, for healing, for liberation and wholeness concern specific people in this specific time. The prayer list in the bulletin reflects this reality. Our common prayer life, with concerns for princes and paupers alike, reflects this reality. Let our individual prayer lives reflect it as well, as we live prayerfully that we might, indeed, pray without ceasing.
Thirdly, we encounter the living God in the living word – the living word of the canonical scripture, yes. But also, convinced that God is not through speaking, we open ourselves to the living word of God in other ways as well – contemporary prophets and poets, psalmists and musicians as well as through those that enrich our tradition from ages past.
Moreover, we engage all of that “word of God” remembering that we are both a community bound to a particular tradition, and also a community bound to a tradition of rereading, reinterpreting and reengaging God’s word so that it remains fresh and lively and full of God’s spirit, just as Paul knew that it was.
All of this takes passion, commitment, time, money, effort. But first, it takes practice.
Have you ever learned a skill? Say, typing, riding a bike, swimming, reading, playing a musical instrument? No matter what it is, it takes practice. Over time, we become what we practice. If you practice swimming, you will become a swimmer. If you practice piano, you will become a pianist. If you practice reading, you will become a reader.
Obviously, there are issues of unique gifts and traits involved in how proficient we might get, but my sister, who teaches art in Atlanta, has told me often that, with practice, anyone can learn to draw. It’s fine motor muscle control, she says, nothing more. If you practiced, she tells me, you could become an artist.
I don’t know about that, and my stick figures probably put my sister’s convictions to their sternest test, but let me share my own deep conviction with you: We can become the community of faith we’re called to be if we practice being it.
It will take time and effort and money. It will take decisions, and passions, and convictions. It will take openness, honesty and change. It will take faith, hope and love.
The good news is: we’ve got all of that and more. The biggest challenge probably lies in finding and taking time. We all lead complicated, busy lives. The church that we grow here will not look like the church that was here in the 1950s, when folks led less scheduled lives and every pew filled up each time the door was open. We’re going to try and fail and try again and succeed and try and fail and so on many times as we experiment with things like educational forums, dinner groups, Sunday schools, peace witnesses, prayer groups, equality work, Bible studies and GA agitation and many other things old and new. No one of us – including me – will be part of every effort. But each of us must be part of the entire effort; each one of us must be part of the ongoing practice of discerning our own calls and vocations as we sort out when and where to engage.
We will become what we practice.
Part of that will involve our money. Most of us have practiced all our lives being great American consumers – and we have become just what we have practiced. I was pondering my own wonderful, environmental piety the other day as I road my bike to work, until I paused to consider also that I was happily astride a $400 bike, pedaling away in my $100 athletic shoes, with my Apple PowerBook in my $80 saddlebags. OK, the PowerBook was a hand-me-down gift, but you get the picture. It is a resource-intensive picture, and it is, alas, a picture of consumer debt.
The choices that reveal themselves to me as I look in the mirror underscore the challenge of faithful stewardship of money. In order to reach a Biblical tithe – 10 percent of my income dedicated to God’s purposes – I must reorder my priorities. That takes time, and it’s a journey. But it is a journey toward a deep liberation from all the false promises of the consumer culture, and I invite you to join me on that journey.
The good news for the church budget is that all the money we need, we have. The bad news is, of course, that we’re spending it elsewhere. We will become what we practice.
If we practice being a collection of consumers, that is what we will become. If we practice being a community of uncommon generosity, that is what we will become.
We will become what we practice.
Our practice will test and engage our passions and convictions as we continue to try bold new ways of engaging that intersection between Christ who calls us and the culture in which we live. Whatever we do, let these two questions guide our efforts:
Does this program, that project, this worship change, that building improvement enhance our ability to reach those who have not heard and do not know of God’s liberating love? It’s not a question of growing membership, it’s a question of sharing the gospel.
And, second, does the project, program or decision enhance our ability to provide welcome and hospitality to those who have heard an invitation and responded by seeking to journey with this community for a while? Again, it’s not a question of growing membership, but it is a question of inviting others to become sojourners with us.
Let me close with a story and an invitation.
As you should know by now, we have begun a six-week exploration of call and vocation as a pilot project of what we’re calling the Center for the Advancement of Lifelong Leadership. Whether or not that project goes beyond this six weeks remains to be determined – by all of us. But that’s not what I want to talk with you about right now.
Instead, I want to tell you a bit about what happened at the first meeting last Sunday evening.
The gathered group included some folks from the community who are not members of this congregation. They included one young recent immigrant who is just happy to be alive and out of the war that has torn his homeland apart. A woman whose life has been torn by violence who is seeking a way forward. A bisexual man exploring vocation in hopes of finding his own voice. A middle aged man trying to figure out what’s next in his life.
Each of them – just as with each of us – suffers some brokenness, endures the ache of emptiness in the God-shaped holes in their hearts.
We all have such holes. We all seek to fill them up. Some of us fill those holes with work; some with medications; some with stuff; some, few graced ones with the abiding presence of the God of life and love.
Our calling as a community of disciples of Jesus Christ is to help others find that presence for themselves. That’s what we mean by sharing the gospel.
The CALL pilot project is one hands-on, intensive way we can do that. The folks who have come to that program from outside the church may not ever set foot in this space to worship. They may not ever join this congregation or contribute to its budget – any more than the folks who eat the food we bag at AFAC do.
But they will be fed. And, in the end, that is the measure of our love for Jesus: did we feed his sheep, did we tend his lambs, did we feed his sheep?
As we do this tending and feeding, lives will be transformed – including our own. We will become what we practice: a community of transformation.
So how do you fit in? How do you plug in?
Well, immediately after worship and coffee this morning, each of the ministry teams of the congregation will be holding brief meetings to organize their work. If you feel called to the mission and outreach of the church – the work of CALL, the work of peacemaking and doing justice – then head downstairs to classroom A. If you feel called to the work of nurturing, hospitality, Christian education and worship, go to the Sunday School room to be part of the Christian Education and Worship team. This morning, that team is going to talk specifically about the ministry of deacons – of those who take on the role of caregiving within the congregation. If you feel called to the work of keeping our facilities in good working order, head to the tan parlor with the Facilities and Personnel team. And if you feel called to the work of financial stewardship, join the Finance ministry team gathering in the purple parlor.
I was reading some polling data last week about that indicate what Jimmy Carter might have called a growing malaise in this country concerning our direction and our future. I was struck by how often the word “fear” showed up in the report.
In the gospel story from Luke with which we began, the one person in the story with the most to fear is the widow. Dispossessed and with no hope for a future, the most marginalized person imaginable in that social setting, she is the one who dares to demand a future. Who dares to hope that justice will be done. Who dares to conceive of a community in which she will be welcomed and honored.
We are the same; and we are the ones who we’ve been waiting for.
Amen.
The texts we’ve read this morning offer more than just the opportunity for an alliterative title – although that’s nothing to be scoffed at! Something interesting is going on in each of these passages, and taken together, there is a powerful word from God for us this morning.
But before we look at that, let’s look at ourselves for just a moment – at this congregation – and see what word from God is emerging from our own experience – from the texts of our very lives, if you will.
Lately I’ve been sensing a growth of fearfulness among us, and an inward turn that I think indicates what, in the business world, might be called “mission drift.”
I’ve heard it suggested that we’ve put brand-spanking new doors on the place just in time to close the doors on the church.
I don’t believe that’s what God has in mind here, and I do believe that, in the end, God gets what God wants. Of course, if we’ve discerned wisely and well that God desires a vibrant, growing community of progressive Christian faith in this place, then it is abundantly clear that we must change.
Why call an inward turn “mission drift”? Because our mission, as Christians, must always be focused outward.
But I’m going to begin with an inward turn of confession. I don’t think I’ve done a very good job leading change here of late. I’ve let myself get distracted by the complications of property transactions and let myself get dragged down emotionally and spiritually by the challenges of this building and our budget.
At the same time, I’ve been drawn into some exciting ministry beyond the walls of Clarendon. I’m not sorry for that, but I am sorry for this: I’ve failed to bring you along with me into that ministry to share the excitement. So, I apologize for those failures. I ask your forgiveness, seek your renewed engagement and promise my own.
I cannot tell you now where all of this may lead us in the future, but I trust that God has great things in store for this community of faith. So let’s get on with it.
As we get on with it, we shall be guided by several touchstones of our faith, that are underscored in this morning’s readings:
First, we rely on God, and the covenant that God has inscribed in our souls. Let’s not have sour grapes about past errors, but rather let’s hold one another accountable to living together as a covenant community that cares deeply about the state of the broader church and of the world, and that bears one another’s burdens, binds one another up and loves one another as we together do the work of caring for that church and world.
Second, we pray without ceasing and with an urgency that reflects the deep brokenness of the church and world. Like the widow in Luke’s story, we come to God in prayer with an urgent demand: thy kingdom come – Now! Thy beloved community come – this day!
Further, just as Jesus came in a specific time to specific people, our urgent cries for justice, for healing, for liberation and wholeness concern specific people in this specific time. The prayer list in the bulletin reflects this reality. Our common prayer life, with concerns for princes and paupers alike, reflects this reality. Let our individual prayer lives reflect it as well, as we live prayerfully that we might, indeed, pray without ceasing.
Thirdly, we encounter the living God in the living word – the living word of the canonical scripture, yes. But also, convinced that God is not through speaking, we open ourselves to the living word of God in other ways as well – contemporary prophets and poets, psalmists and musicians as well as through those that enrich our tradition from ages past.
Moreover, we engage all of that “word of God” remembering that we are both a community bound to a particular tradition, and also a community bound to a tradition of rereading, reinterpreting and reengaging God’s word so that it remains fresh and lively and full of God’s spirit, just as Paul knew that it was.
All of this takes passion, commitment, time, money, effort. But first, it takes practice.
Have you ever learned a skill? Say, typing, riding a bike, swimming, reading, playing a musical instrument? No matter what it is, it takes practice. Over time, we become what we practice. If you practice swimming, you will become a swimmer. If you practice piano, you will become a pianist. If you practice reading, you will become a reader.
Obviously, there are issues of unique gifts and traits involved in how proficient we might get, but my sister, who teaches art in Atlanta, has told me often that, with practice, anyone can learn to draw. It’s fine motor muscle control, she says, nothing more. If you practiced, she tells me, you could become an artist.
I don’t know about that, and my stick figures probably put my sister’s convictions to their sternest test, but let me share my own deep conviction with you: We can become the community of faith we’re called to be if we practice being it.
It will take time and effort and money. It will take decisions, and passions, and convictions. It will take openness, honesty and change. It will take faith, hope and love.
The good news is: we’ve got all of that and more. The biggest challenge probably lies in finding and taking time. We all lead complicated, busy lives. The church that we grow here will not look like the church that was here in the 1950s, when folks led less scheduled lives and every pew filled up each time the door was open. We’re going to try and fail and try again and succeed and try and fail and so on many times as we experiment with things like educational forums, dinner groups, Sunday schools, peace witnesses, prayer groups, equality work, Bible studies and GA agitation and many other things old and new. No one of us – including me – will be part of every effort. But each of us must be part of the entire effort; each one of us must be part of the ongoing practice of discerning our own calls and vocations as we sort out when and where to engage.
We will become what we practice.
Part of that will involve our money. Most of us have practiced all our lives being great American consumers – and we have become just what we have practiced. I was pondering my own wonderful, environmental piety the other day as I road my bike to work, until I paused to consider also that I was happily astride a $400 bike, pedaling away in my $100 athletic shoes, with my Apple PowerBook in my $80 saddlebags. OK, the PowerBook was a hand-me-down gift, but you get the picture. It is a resource-intensive picture, and it is, alas, a picture of consumer debt.
The choices that reveal themselves to me as I look in the mirror underscore the challenge of faithful stewardship of money. In order to reach a Biblical tithe – 10 percent of my income dedicated to God’s purposes – I must reorder my priorities. That takes time, and it’s a journey. But it is a journey toward a deep liberation from all the false promises of the consumer culture, and I invite you to join me on that journey.
The good news for the church budget is that all the money we need, we have. The bad news is, of course, that we’re spending it elsewhere. We will become what we practice.
If we practice being a collection of consumers, that is what we will become. If we practice being a community of uncommon generosity, that is what we will become.
We will become what we practice.
Our practice will test and engage our passions and convictions as we continue to try bold new ways of engaging that intersection between Christ who calls us and the culture in which we live. Whatever we do, let these two questions guide our efforts:
Does this program, that project, this worship change, that building improvement enhance our ability to reach those who have not heard and do not know of God’s liberating love? It’s not a question of growing membership, it’s a question of sharing the gospel.
And, second, does the project, program or decision enhance our ability to provide welcome and hospitality to those who have heard an invitation and responded by seeking to journey with this community for a while? Again, it’s not a question of growing membership, but it is a question of inviting others to become sojourners with us.
Let me close with a story and an invitation.
As you should know by now, we have begun a six-week exploration of call and vocation as a pilot project of what we’re calling the Center for the Advancement of Lifelong Leadership. Whether or not that project goes beyond this six weeks remains to be determined – by all of us. But that’s not what I want to talk with you about right now.
Instead, I want to tell you a bit about what happened at the first meeting last Sunday evening.
The gathered group included some folks from the community who are not members of this congregation. They included one young recent immigrant who is just happy to be alive and out of the war that has torn his homeland apart. A woman whose life has been torn by violence who is seeking a way forward. A bisexual man exploring vocation in hopes of finding his own voice. A middle aged man trying to figure out what’s next in his life.
Each of them – just as with each of us – suffers some brokenness, endures the ache of emptiness in the God-shaped holes in their hearts.
We all have such holes. We all seek to fill them up. Some of us fill those holes with work; some with medications; some with stuff; some, few graced ones with the abiding presence of the God of life and love.
Our calling as a community of disciples of Jesus Christ is to help others find that presence for themselves. That’s what we mean by sharing the gospel.
The CALL pilot project is one hands-on, intensive way we can do that. The folks who have come to that program from outside the church may not ever set foot in this space to worship. They may not ever join this congregation or contribute to its budget – any more than the folks who eat the food we bag at AFAC do.
But they will be fed. And, in the end, that is the measure of our love for Jesus: did we feed his sheep, did we tend his lambs, did we feed his sheep?
As we do this tending and feeding, lives will be transformed – including our own. We will become what we practice: a community of transformation.
So how do you fit in? How do you plug in?
Well, immediately after worship and coffee this morning, each of the ministry teams of the congregation will be holding brief meetings to organize their work. If you feel called to the mission and outreach of the church – the work of CALL, the work of peacemaking and doing justice – then head downstairs to classroom A. If you feel called to the work of nurturing, hospitality, Christian education and worship, go to the Sunday School room to be part of the Christian Education and Worship team. This morning, that team is going to talk specifically about the ministry of deacons – of those who take on the role of caregiving within the congregation. If you feel called to the work of keeping our facilities in good working order, head to the tan parlor with the Facilities and Personnel team. And if you feel called to the work of financial stewardship, join the Finance ministry team gathering in the purple parlor.
I was reading some polling data last week about that indicate what Jimmy Carter might have called a growing malaise in this country concerning our direction and our future. I was struck by how often the word “fear” showed up in the report.
In the gospel story from Luke with which we began, the one person in the story with the most to fear is the widow. Dispossessed and with no hope for a future, the most marginalized person imaginable in that social setting, she is the one who dares to demand a future. Who dares to hope that justice will be done. Who dares to conceive of a community in which she will be welcomed and honored.
We are the same; and we are the ones who we’ve been waiting for.
Amen.
posted by David Ensign at
11:49 AM
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