Greater Visions
John 1: 43-51
January 15, 2012
Does anyone know the mission statement of Martin Luther King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference? When Dr. King and others gathered SCLC in 1957 in the afterglow of the Montgomery bus boycott, they claimed as their mission “to redeem the soul of America.”
Now that’s quite a mission. What comes to your mind when you hear it?
When I read that statement a couple of things come to mind. First, though it’s been years since I first encountered it in reading Civil Rights histories, I have never forgotten it. Second, it describes a situation – the soul sickness of a culture – and proposes a solution: redemption. Third, it’s not really a “mission statement” at all – it’s a catch phrase, a slogan and it was not developed through any formal process, it was written, by Dr. King, on the window of SCLC’s Atlanta office, most likely in a moment of frustration when the future did not seem particularly clear, the work felt overwhelming, and the organization not up to the immense challenges it faced.
At such moments, some people will say it’s time to revise expectations downward, it’s time to scale back, or maybe even time to quit. But at precisely such moments, the prophet casts an even larger vision, a more expansive view of a future otherwise. At precisely such moments, God calls forth people of faith to be transformed and to transform that which is sin-sick.
As we sit together this morning, a small congregation in a shrinking denomination that struggles against seemingly inexorable tides of history and culture, what is our view of the future? Is it continuing the trend lines of the past 40 years that lead, imprecisely but inevitably, toward an end of a church and a congregation? Or is there a future otherwise?
Or, as the magician asked Wesley in The Princess Bride, “what you got that’s worth living for?”
Martin Luther King and SCLC had a vision of the promised land, the beloved community, a future otherwise for the sin-sick soul of the nation. It was enough to see them through.
So, I’m wondering about us. Can anyone here this morning recite the mission statement of Clarendon Presbyterian Church? No cheating by looking at the flyers in the pews! Anybody remember any parts of it?
All are welcome at Clarendon Presbyterian Church. We are a community that tries to reflect the love and justice of the gospel of Jesus Christ. We invite all those with faith and with doubts to join us as seekers of God’s amazing and inclusive grace and truth.
It’s in the e-blast every week. It’s on the web site. It used to be on the bulletin every week.
What strikes you about that statement? What comes to mind when you hear those words? Does it ring true as a statement about who we are as a congregation? How so? What does it tell you about us? What does it say to someone who knows nothing about this congregation?
Friends, that has been the identity of the Clarendon Presbyterian Church for a long, long time. Or, to be more accurate, that has been the identity statement of the Clarendon Presbyterian Church. You could, and, indeed, we have called it a mission statement but it’s not really. It doesn’t tell us anything about why we exist, what our fundamental purpose is, or what is unique and distinctive about us relative to the thousands of other congregations that these days proclaim that “all are welcome.”
Moreover, it doesn’t say anything about our imagined future, what we long for, our dreams and visions, much less anything that we propose to do toward that imagined end.
It’s time for us to restate the mission and re-write the vision, because if you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there. We are embarking on a process of revisioning that will unfold rapidly over the next few months beginning in earnest with the congregational meeting on the 29th as together we work to create a more vibrant congregation.
Now it may strike you as odd, perhaps discordant even, to lift up this conversation about mission and vision in the context of a sermon on the Sunday of the King Day weekend. You might well argue that today should focus on justice, on civil rights, on nonviolence or peacemaking. All those would, of course, be perfectly reasonable subjects for our consideration.
But given our particular circumstance today, it seems to me that there are other lessons to be drawn from the example of Dr. King and the Civil Rights Movement, and as I went searching through my library of King histories to find direct reference to the SCLC slogan I was reminded that King and his colleagues faced the same kinds of questions we struggle with.
At an SCLC board meeting in its early days, Ella Baker, who was at the time SCLC’s only paid staff person, raised a couple of critical questions that could well have come up at our session retreat last weekend. Baker said, “Have we been so busy doing the things that had to be done [just to keep the organization in existence] that we have failed to [do] what should be done?” And then the kicker: “Have we really come to grips with what it takes to do the job for which SCLC was organized; and are we willing to pay the price?”
If we are to become a more vibrant congregation we must answer clearly those questions as they pertain to us: what are we busy about? Is it the right thing? Are we clear about why we are here? Are we willing to pay the price to remain?
These are not questions that we answer in a single gathering, certainly not in one sermon. After all, these are questions that we answer together in prayer, worship, conversation; the answers are not mine to give.
However, I can point to a couple of touchstones for our season of vision casting:
The first comes out of the long struggle we celebrate on King Day: the project of redeeming the sin-sick soul of the nation is not complete, and on another day we might study King’s story in more depth and detail to mine the riches it has to give us for the struggles that remain before us. For now, I’ll simply say that an authentically vibrant congregation will be engaged in the work of creating the beloved community, the work of transformation of individuals and of society.
The second touchstone comes from the gospel reading this morning: John’s account of the call of Philip and Nathaniel. Jesus sees Nathaniel standing under the fig tree and calls him. Nathaniel is amazed that Jesus knows who he is just from seeing him standing there, and he immediately proclaims that Jesus is the messiah.
Jesus responds, "Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these."
And that’s just the point: if we follow the way of Jesus we will see great things.
That is no promise that the way will be easy nor that the path will be straight, but it is deep and abiding assurance that we do not go that way alone. There is one there with us, leading us on.
There is one with us even though we’re tired, even though we’re weak, and even though we feel alone. There is one with us through the storm, through the night, to lead us on to the light. There is one there to take our hands, precious Lord, and lead us home.
Take My Hand, Precious Lord was Dr. King’s favorite song, and his final words, called out over a hotel railing in Memphis in the moments before he was shot, were to a young musician who was scheduled to sing at a rally later that evening. “Ben, be sure and sing ‘Precious Lord, Take My Hand.’ Sing it real pretty.”
We never know how long we are given in this life, so let us strive together for greater visions by which to live the time we have been given. Amen.
January 15, 2012
Does anyone know the mission statement of Martin Luther King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference? When Dr. King and others gathered SCLC in 1957 in the afterglow of the Montgomery bus boycott, they claimed as their mission “to redeem the soul of America.”
Now that’s quite a mission. What comes to your mind when you hear it?
When I read that statement a couple of things come to mind. First, though it’s been years since I first encountered it in reading Civil Rights histories, I have never forgotten it. Second, it describes a situation – the soul sickness of a culture – and proposes a solution: redemption. Third, it’s not really a “mission statement” at all – it’s a catch phrase, a slogan and it was not developed through any formal process, it was written, by Dr. King, on the window of SCLC’s Atlanta office, most likely in a moment of frustration when the future did not seem particularly clear, the work felt overwhelming, and the organization not up to the immense challenges it faced.
At such moments, some people will say it’s time to revise expectations downward, it’s time to scale back, or maybe even time to quit. But at precisely such moments, the prophet casts an even larger vision, a more expansive view of a future otherwise. At precisely such moments, God calls forth people of faith to be transformed and to transform that which is sin-sick.
As we sit together this morning, a small congregation in a shrinking denomination that struggles against seemingly inexorable tides of history and culture, what is our view of the future? Is it continuing the trend lines of the past 40 years that lead, imprecisely but inevitably, toward an end of a church and a congregation? Or is there a future otherwise?
Or, as the magician asked Wesley in The Princess Bride, “what you got that’s worth living for?”
Martin Luther King and SCLC had a vision of the promised land, the beloved community, a future otherwise for the sin-sick soul of the nation. It was enough to see them through.
So, I’m wondering about us. Can anyone here this morning recite the mission statement of Clarendon Presbyterian Church? No cheating by looking at the flyers in the pews! Anybody remember any parts of it?
All are welcome at Clarendon Presbyterian Church. We are a community that tries to reflect the love and justice of the gospel of Jesus Christ. We invite all those with faith and with doubts to join us as seekers of God’s amazing and inclusive grace and truth.
It’s in the e-blast every week. It’s on the web site. It used to be on the bulletin every week.
What strikes you about that statement? What comes to mind when you hear those words? Does it ring true as a statement about who we are as a congregation? How so? What does it tell you about us? What does it say to someone who knows nothing about this congregation?
Friends, that has been the identity of the Clarendon Presbyterian Church for a long, long time. Or, to be more accurate, that has been the identity statement of the Clarendon Presbyterian Church. You could, and, indeed, we have called it a mission statement but it’s not really. It doesn’t tell us anything about why we exist, what our fundamental purpose is, or what is unique and distinctive about us relative to the thousands of other congregations that these days proclaim that “all are welcome.”
Moreover, it doesn’t say anything about our imagined future, what we long for, our dreams and visions, much less anything that we propose to do toward that imagined end.
It’s time for us to restate the mission and re-write the vision, because if you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there. We are embarking on a process of revisioning that will unfold rapidly over the next few months beginning in earnest with the congregational meeting on the 29th as together we work to create a more vibrant congregation.
Now it may strike you as odd, perhaps discordant even, to lift up this conversation about mission and vision in the context of a sermon on the Sunday of the King Day weekend. You might well argue that today should focus on justice, on civil rights, on nonviolence or peacemaking. All those would, of course, be perfectly reasonable subjects for our consideration.
But given our particular circumstance today, it seems to me that there are other lessons to be drawn from the example of Dr. King and the Civil Rights Movement, and as I went searching through my library of King histories to find direct reference to the SCLC slogan I was reminded that King and his colleagues faced the same kinds of questions we struggle with.
At an SCLC board meeting in its early days, Ella Baker, who was at the time SCLC’s only paid staff person, raised a couple of critical questions that could well have come up at our session retreat last weekend. Baker said, “Have we been so busy doing the things that had to be done [just to keep the organization in existence] that we have failed to [do] what should be done?” And then the kicker: “Have we really come to grips with what it takes to do the job for which SCLC was organized; and are we willing to pay the price?”
If we are to become a more vibrant congregation we must answer clearly those questions as they pertain to us: what are we busy about? Is it the right thing? Are we clear about why we are here? Are we willing to pay the price to remain?
These are not questions that we answer in a single gathering, certainly not in one sermon. After all, these are questions that we answer together in prayer, worship, conversation; the answers are not mine to give.
However, I can point to a couple of touchstones for our season of vision casting:
The first comes out of the long struggle we celebrate on King Day: the project of redeeming the sin-sick soul of the nation is not complete, and on another day we might study King’s story in more depth and detail to mine the riches it has to give us for the struggles that remain before us. For now, I’ll simply say that an authentically vibrant congregation will be engaged in the work of creating the beloved community, the work of transformation of individuals and of society.
The second touchstone comes from the gospel reading this morning: John’s account of the call of Philip and Nathaniel. Jesus sees Nathaniel standing under the fig tree and calls him. Nathaniel is amazed that Jesus knows who he is just from seeing him standing there, and he immediately proclaims that Jesus is the messiah.
Jesus responds, "Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these."
And that’s just the point: if we follow the way of Jesus we will see great things.
That is no promise that the way will be easy nor that the path will be straight, but it is deep and abiding assurance that we do not go that way alone. There is one there with us, leading us on.
There is one with us even though we’re tired, even though we’re weak, and even though we feel alone. There is one with us through the storm, through the night, to lead us on to the light. There is one there to take our hands, precious Lord, and lead us home.
Take My Hand, Precious Lord was Dr. King’s favorite song, and his final words, called out over a hotel railing in Memphis in the moments before he was shot, were to a young musician who was scheduled to sing at a rally later that evening. “Ben, be sure and sing ‘Precious Lord, Take My Hand.’ Sing it real pretty.”
We never know how long we are given in this life, so let us strive together for greater visions by which to live the time we have been given. Amen.
posted by David Ensign at
8:36 AM
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