Why Are We Here?

Why Are We Here?

James 1:17-27; Psalm 15

September 2, 2018

So, why are we here? It’s the Sunday of a holiday weekend, after all. Sleeping in was certainly an option. Going to the beach on last time before school starts up was another one. Brunch is always a good choice.

So, why are we here?

I think that’s a fair question on any given Sunday, and it’s obviously a question that is increasingly irrelevant to the vast majority of Americans. They’ve already answered it decisively with the clear and concise declaration: “we’re not coming.” I almost said, “we’re not coming back,” but for ever increasing numbers of folks, there is no back because they were never here in the first place.

We are living in post-Christian America, and, more broadly, we are living in post-religion America.

There are dozens of studies and reams of data painting by the numbers a picture of a society that has simply walked away from traditional faith communities of every stripe – liberal, conservative, urban, rural, suburban, Mainline, and otherwise.

Anecdotes are not data, but I’m pretty confident that two simple trends I’ve observed here point clearly to the much larger and, I believe, irreversible exodus from traditional worshipping communities:

First, our attendance at the high holy days – Christmas Eve and Easter – has fallen off noticeably over the past half dozen years. It’s simply the case that there are fewer and fewer “cultural Christians” – those folks who show up on the holiest of days out of some memory and, perhaps, some longing that was satisfied by singing the carols and hearing the old, old story. There are a couple of entire generations who have no such memories and their longings – whatever they may be – do not draw them toward worshipping communities.

I have always believed the idea – attributed to St. Augustine – that every human being is born with a God-shaped hole in their heart. I am, however, increasingly convinced that organized religion is poorly prepared to help human beings fill that hole.

We used to think of marriage as one of those life events that pointed young couples, and thus, eventually, young families back toward worshipping communities. But the second trend I’ve noticed gives the lie to that notion. Fewer and fewer couples are choosing churches as the setting for their weddings. We used to get at least a half dozen or so “cold calls” about hosting weddings at CPC ever year. I can’t tell you the last time that happened. Indeed, the most recent wedding we hosted at CPC was Clark and Mike’s, however many years ago that was. I’ve officiated several weddings since then, but none of them were here.

Why bring these trends up today, on the Sunday of a holiday weekend when our attendance is going to be way down anyway? I mean, on a morning like today, we’d barely anticipate a choir to preach to!

Our readings this morning – from James and from the psalms – point at some deeper concerns that, I believe, lie beneath the broad cultural shift away from traditional worshipping communities. (And, parenthetically, I should note that even though we may not think of ourselves as “traditional,” we are, nonetheless, a Mainline Protestant worshipping community that stands in an ancient line – a long, rich, deep tradition – and thus are, no matter what we think of our oh-so-hip-and-trendy selves, essentially traditional.)

The psalmist suggests one answer to why we are here: we sense that not all is right with the world nor with our own lives. So we gather, in part, to own up to that reality, and, moreover, to hear a word of hope.

The author of James encouraged his readers to “be doers of the word, and not merely hearers” because, he suggested, if we are merely hearers and not doers we won’t know who we are meant to be. He put it this way: “if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like.”

As you may have read in last week’s e-blast, session spent several hours a couple of Sundays ago learning about the results of the Congregational Assessment Tool survey that most of us took earlier this summer. The folks from National Capital Presbytery who joined session to help us interpret the results used the same mirror metaphor. The results, they told us, are a mirror reflecting back to us who we are. In the weeks ahead we will do some community exploration of those results, and I hope that we won’t turn away from the mirror and forget who we are!

At our best, we are a community of worship, service, and reflection, that helps each member more fully answer those fundamental questions of human existence: who am I? why am I here? what shall I do with this one life I’ve been given?

We confront those questions in light of the story of Jesus Christ, the bread of life. Perhaps the simplest answer to my initiating question this morning – why are we here – is this: we are here because this is where the bread is. Our hearts are hungry, and this is where the bread is.

Indeed, people will come for bread. From east and west, north and south, people of every age and race and condition, bringing their doubts and their faith, bringing their hunger to this table because Jesus said, simply, taste and see.

Of course, there’s more to it than that, and, moreover, there are lots of other places where you can be fed. Indeed, the exhortation from James – be doers of the word – leads me to conclude that when we take what we have found here – bread for our lives – out into the wider world to feed the hungry, then we will discover more fully and completely why we are here.

So, as we prepare to gather at this table to break bread together, I invite you, first, to take a few minutes to explore the tables set up around the space this morning. Each of them has a bit of information about one of the ways this congregation tries to be doers of the word. In addition, each table has some blank cards and pens. I invite you to write down your prayers for the people and situations related to the “doing of the word” described at the table. Finally, if you’d like to learn more about how you can be involved in any given “doing of the word,” there’s a sheet on each table with space to leave your name and phone number. Those are intended not at “sign-ups” but, truly, as invitation to a brief conversation about whatever service opportunity you’re interested in. Which is also to say, if you’re already volunteering at AFAC or A-SPAN, etc. please don’t write your name down. That’s not what this is about – this is about an opportunity to learn about something we’re already engaging and ways you might join in the engagement.

This time of exploration will be the beginning of our prayers of the people this morning, so, let us move prayerfully through the space.