Confessions and Commitments
Joel 2: 17-29; Luke 4:16-20
October 24, 2010
At the Stony Point gathering I attended week before last we were talking about the challenge of change, and we noted that real change, in individuals, organizations, communities, cultures requires honest accounting and confession. We also noted that American culture really does not know anything about honest confession.
Think about the kinds of public apologies you hear these days. They mostly follow this pattern: person A does or says something patently offensive and gets called on it by person B. Person A then says, “I am sorry if you were offended.”
It was a songs conference, so I wrote a little ditty:
I'm sorry that you feel that way.
You clearly didn't get what I was trying to say.
It's not my fault that you've had a bad day.
I'm sorry that you feel that way.
It's not my fault if the words don't rhyme.
What you clearly didn't offer was abundance of time.
If I used that word that you're forbidden to say,
well I'm sorry that you feel that way.
Now I'm usually known as a sensitive guy.
Some folks say I wouldn't hurt a fly.
So if you're offended then you don't have to stay.
I'm sorry that you feel that way.
I don't care if you don't like my song.
I may not be right, but I'm so sure you're wrong.
If you cannot communicate with the words I say,
then I'm sorry that you feel that way.
We talk a lot here about “honesty of confession.” Well, as a confession, that falls a wee bit short of, well, honesty or confession.
So let’s be honest for a moment. First, let’s be honest about our own situation. Two years ago session adopted some goals. They included increasing attendance by 10 percent. It’s actually decreased by about 10 percent since then. We aimed to grow the pledge part of the budget by about 5 percent. It’s decreased by about that much. We wanted to increase participation in spiritual formation, worship leadership, and community outreach. At best we’ve flat-lined there.
You see the pattern.
So let me simply say, I have not done my job as leader of the community. I have not held myself accountable to those stated goals, and I have not held you accountable to them either. I have gotten distracted by things that are not of ultimate concern, to borrow Paul Tillich’s phrase that he coined to describe the central focus of faith.
The good news of the gospel is that I – and all of us – receive the grace of God’s mercy and the power of God’s love to recommit, to begin again, to experience resurrection and new life.
So my commitment is equally simple:
To be accountable to the clearly stated goals and intentions of the community, and, specifically, to spend the next six months encouraging and equipping the saints for ministry because I firmly believe that if we “do justice” well then growth will follow – and that six months is plenty of time, at this last stage, for us to discern clear signs of change.
If, six months from now, we are in the exact same place as we’ve been – small and shrinking, powerless to impact the community around us, failing to share light with a world that dwells in darkness – then it will be time for some serious reconsideration of my role, because friends, while I love to write songs, I do not want to spend my time composing funeral dirges for a dying church.
It is only intelligent to take stock of the broader context, and to acknowledge the profoundly difficult challenge we face. Just last week the sociologist Robert Putnam, who has studied church life for a generation, published an article in the Los Angeles Times naming the context:
“The most rapidly growing religious category today is composed of those Americans who say they have no religious affiliation. While middle-aged and older Americans continue to embrace organized religion, rapidly increasing numbers of young people are rejecting it.
“As recently as 1990, all but 7% of Americans claimed a religious affiliation, a figure that had held constant for decades. Today, 17% of Americans say they have no religion, and these new "nones" are very heavily concentrated among Americans who have come of age since 1990. Between 25% and 30% of twentysomethings today say they have no religious affiliation — roughly four times higher than in any previous generation.”
Who lives in all of the new housing all around us in the Metro corridor? The “nones,” as Putnam calls them. And who have we consistently named as the cohort we feel most strongly called to serve, to be in ministry for and with, to engage with the gospel? The “nones.”
Friends, if this stuff was easy we’d surely have figured it out.
But I firmly believe the simple good news that Joel proclaimed:
“I will pour out my spirit on all flesh;
your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams,
and your young men shall see visions.
Even on the male and female slaves,
in those days, I will pour out my spirit.”
Even in these days, the spirit of the living God is power in our midst.
So, while I may not be up to the challenge that lies ahead, God is up to it. The power of the divine, the holy spirit, is up to it.
Jesus understood, quoting Isaiah, the purpose of that power. What is the Spirit of the Lord poured out for? It’s clear and simple:
• To bring good news to the poor;
• To proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind;
• To let the oppressed go free;
• To proclaim the year of God’s jubilee.
This is the gospel of Jesus Christ in its most distilled form. The good news to the outcast is simply this: you, too, are beloved. The commitment of the followers of Jesus is equally simple: to live out that love day by day in the ways that we respond to every single person we encounter and in the ways we work to shape and reshape the society and institutions we live and work in.
Look around us these days.
• Consider the bullied gay adolescents who’ve been in the news of late. What could be more important than sharing the good news with them, showing them that they are beloved?
• We’re living in the midst of the worst economic crisis of our lives. What could be more important than sharing good news with the poor, feeding the hungry, housing the homeless?
• We’re still mired in endless war, while Jesus calls us to love those we would call enemies.
Share the good news. Feed the hungry. Make peace. These are core gospel demands upon each of us.
We are not called to feed the hungry if we have time. We are called to feed the hungry. We are not called to do justice if we can fit it in the budget. We are called to do justice. We are not called to be peacemakers if it is convenient and comfortable. We are called to be peacemakers. And we are called to risk all – even the church – for the sake of the gospel of love and justice.
So here’s what I propose to do about this, and what I invite you to prayerfully consider:
To spend the next six months – from November through Easter, an almost neat liturgical season – in prayer, study and action on a daily and weekly basis – a liturgy, if you will, that moves like this.
• A practice of daily prayer with a common content.
• A practice of daily study.
• A practice of weekly common worship.
• A practice of doing justice.
• A practice of invitation.
I think it was Woody Allen who observed that 90 percent of life is just showing up. The question is, what do you show up to, and how much of you shows up? Let’s be honest, it’s easy to give part of yourself to something. How many of you have ever, for example, sat in on a conference call and been checking your e-mail or the book of faces? Or sat in a classroom reading something not on the teacher’s agenda? Or sat in worship thinking about brunch?
I’ll readily confess to all three of those.
Showing up means bringing all of ourselves, the best of ourselves to this very moment, to the moment of prayer, the moment of study, the moment of worship, the moments of doing justice, the moment of inviting others to share in all of this.
This is not something to step lightly into, and I’m not even going to ask you to today. In fact, all I’m asking you to do this morning is to go home, think about it, talk about it, and pray about it. Next week, the day of our fall congregational meeting, the day when we elect leaders and preview the budget that puts money where our mouths are, next week I plan to bring a six-month calendar of prayers and readings. That’s when I will ask you to join me in this commitment.
For now, I’ll simply invite you to join me in prayer.
October 24, 2010
At the Stony Point gathering I attended week before last we were talking about the challenge of change, and we noted that real change, in individuals, organizations, communities, cultures requires honest accounting and confession. We also noted that American culture really does not know anything about honest confession.
Think about the kinds of public apologies you hear these days. They mostly follow this pattern: person A does or says something patently offensive and gets called on it by person B. Person A then says, “I am sorry if you were offended.”
It was a songs conference, so I wrote a little ditty:
I'm sorry that you feel that way.
You clearly didn't get what I was trying to say.
It's not my fault that you've had a bad day.
I'm sorry that you feel that way.
It's not my fault if the words don't rhyme.
What you clearly didn't offer was abundance of time.
If I used that word that you're forbidden to say,
well I'm sorry that you feel that way.
Now I'm usually known as a sensitive guy.
Some folks say I wouldn't hurt a fly.
So if you're offended then you don't have to stay.
I'm sorry that you feel that way.
I don't care if you don't like my song.
I may not be right, but I'm so sure you're wrong.
If you cannot communicate with the words I say,
then I'm sorry that you feel that way.
We talk a lot here about “honesty of confession.” Well, as a confession, that falls a wee bit short of, well, honesty or confession.
So let’s be honest for a moment. First, let’s be honest about our own situation. Two years ago session adopted some goals. They included increasing attendance by 10 percent. It’s actually decreased by about 10 percent since then. We aimed to grow the pledge part of the budget by about 5 percent. It’s decreased by about that much. We wanted to increase participation in spiritual formation, worship leadership, and community outreach. At best we’ve flat-lined there.
You see the pattern.
So let me simply say, I have not done my job as leader of the community. I have not held myself accountable to those stated goals, and I have not held you accountable to them either. I have gotten distracted by things that are not of ultimate concern, to borrow Paul Tillich’s phrase that he coined to describe the central focus of faith.
The good news of the gospel is that I – and all of us – receive the grace of God’s mercy and the power of God’s love to recommit, to begin again, to experience resurrection and new life.
So my commitment is equally simple:
To be accountable to the clearly stated goals and intentions of the community, and, specifically, to spend the next six months encouraging and equipping the saints for ministry because I firmly believe that if we “do justice” well then growth will follow – and that six months is plenty of time, at this last stage, for us to discern clear signs of change.
If, six months from now, we are in the exact same place as we’ve been – small and shrinking, powerless to impact the community around us, failing to share light with a world that dwells in darkness – then it will be time for some serious reconsideration of my role, because friends, while I love to write songs, I do not want to spend my time composing funeral dirges for a dying church.
It is only intelligent to take stock of the broader context, and to acknowledge the profoundly difficult challenge we face. Just last week the sociologist Robert Putnam, who has studied church life for a generation, published an article in the Los Angeles Times naming the context:
“The most rapidly growing religious category today is composed of those Americans who say they have no religious affiliation. While middle-aged and older Americans continue to embrace organized religion, rapidly increasing numbers of young people are rejecting it.
“As recently as 1990, all but 7% of Americans claimed a religious affiliation, a figure that had held constant for decades. Today, 17% of Americans say they have no religion, and these new "nones" are very heavily concentrated among Americans who have come of age since 1990. Between 25% and 30% of twentysomethings today say they have no religious affiliation — roughly four times higher than in any previous generation.”
Who lives in all of the new housing all around us in the Metro corridor? The “nones,” as Putnam calls them. And who have we consistently named as the cohort we feel most strongly called to serve, to be in ministry for and with, to engage with the gospel? The “nones.”
Friends, if this stuff was easy we’d surely have figured it out.
But I firmly believe the simple good news that Joel proclaimed:
“I will pour out my spirit on all flesh;
your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams,
and your young men shall see visions.
Even on the male and female slaves,
in those days, I will pour out my spirit.”
Even in these days, the spirit of the living God is power in our midst.
So, while I may not be up to the challenge that lies ahead, God is up to it. The power of the divine, the holy spirit, is up to it.
Jesus understood, quoting Isaiah, the purpose of that power. What is the Spirit of the Lord poured out for? It’s clear and simple:
• To bring good news to the poor;
• To proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind;
• To let the oppressed go free;
• To proclaim the year of God’s jubilee.
This is the gospel of Jesus Christ in its most distilled form. The good news to the outcast is simply this: you, too, are beloved. The commitment of the followers of Jesus is equally simple: to live out that love day by day in the ways that we respond to every single person we encounter and in the ways we work to shape and reshape the society and institutions we live and work in.
Look around us these days.
• Consider the bullied gay adolescents who’ve been in the news of late. What could be more important than sharing the good news with them, showing them that they are beloved?
• We’re living in the midst of the worst economic crisis of our lives. What could be more important than sharing good news with the poor, feeding the hungry, housing the homeless?
• We’re still mired in endless war, while Jesus calls us to love those we would call enemies.
Share the good news. Feed the hungry. Make peace. These are core gospel demands upon each of us.
We are not called to feed the hungry if we have time. We are called to feed the hungry. We are not called to do justice if we can fit it in the budget. We are called to do justice. We are not called to be peacemakers if it is convenient and comfortable. We are called to be peacemakers. And we are called to risk all – even the church – for the sake of the gospel of love and justice.
So here’s what I propose to do about this, and what I invite you to prayerfully consider:
To spend the next six months – from November through Easter, an almost neat liturgical season – in prayer, study and action on a daily and weekly basis – a liturgy, if you will, that moves like this.
• A practice of daily prayer with a common content.
• A practice of daily study.
• A practice of weekly common worship.
• A practice of doing justice.
• A practice of invitation.
I think it was Woody Allen who observed that 90 percent of life is just showing up. The question is, what do you show up to, and how much of you shows up? Let’s be honest, it’s easy to give part of yourself to something. How many of you have ever, for example, sat in on a conference call and been checking your e-mail or the book of faces? Or sat in a classroom reading something not on the teacher’s agenda? Or sat in worship thinking about brunch?
I’ll readily confess to all three of those.
Showing up means bringing all of ourselves, the best of ourselves to this very moment, to the moment of prayer, the moment of study, the moment of worship, the moments of doing justice, the moment of inviting others to share in all of this.
This is not something to step lightly into, and I’m not even going to ask you to today. In fact, all I’m asking you to do this morning is to go home, think about it, talk about it, and pray about it. Next week, the day of our fall congregational meeting, the day when we elect leaders and preview the budget that puts money where our mouths are, next week I plan to bring a six-month calendar of prayers and readings. That’s when I will ask you to join me in this commitment.
For now, I’ll simply invite you to join me in prayer.
posted by David Ensign at
7:58 AM
<< Home