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Sermons at St. John's Presbyterian Church |
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| St. John’s Presbyterian Church 2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705 Telephone 510-845-6830 Fax 510-845-6837 http://www.stjohnsberkeley.org |
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Church Connection Transcribed from the sermon preached November 14, 2010 The
Reverend Max Lynn, Pastor Scripture
Readings: Isaiah
65:17-25, I Corinthians
12:12-27 Where do you find God? The most common answer nowadays is probably, “In nature.” A sunset on the ocean, a spring rose garden, a mountaintop. Such places evoke a sense of the miraculous, a sense of gratitude, a sense that there is a Divine benevolent power. Part of the
reason for this common encounter with God in nature is that, if for a
moment,
we leave the cares and chaos of human life and society behind. There are some exceptions,
but much of our
new age spirituality and our Westernized Eastern religions encourage
this
spiritual detachment, the creation of our own sacred space, our own
sacred
journey apart from others. It often does
seem easier to listen to God without other people getting in the way,
without
institutions or legalists and doctrine getting in the way. So it is common today to
hear people say, I
am spiritual but not religious. Or,
I
am a Christian, but I don’t go to church.
Now I get all
that. There is
hierarchy and bad
history, petrified doctrine and all too human people in the Church. I
often
have a conversation with someone who wants to educate me about the ugly
history
of the Church, how the hand chopped off the toe, how the
whatchamacallit was
marginalized by the wigglywadgit.
What
folks don’t realize is that since seminary is basically three years of
history
classes, ministers get a full dose of the ugly parts of the church. And if that isn’t enough,
then when we
graduate, we get to try and be ministers and work with people. In Church, we
come together to worship God our Creator, and the God of grace made
known
through the person of Jesus Christ.
We
are also called, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to be together in
community. So we
come together not only to worship, not
only to meet or find God, but to be the Body of Christ; to be in
community, to
share our gifts, to work toward a New Heaven and New Earth where joy,
health,
justice and peace prevail. If our goal as
an individual is to find God, then perhaps the best way to do this is
to get
rich so we are not so preoccupied with the basic necessities of life,
and can
buy a house in a beautiful natural setting and make multiple trips to
spas and
spiritual retreats. Check
out how
capitalism sells in a yoga journal: The home of natural bliss, the Zen
kitchen,
the find yourself retreat on Maui. I am attracted by this idea of our
own
personal kiva, too. While Jesus
frequently took solo time in the wilderness, on the mountain or lake to
pray
and be alone with God, he was constantly drawn back to people, back to
the
community, back to teaching and working for a new Jerusalem world of
peace,
justice and mercy. More
fundamental
still is idea of incarnation: God was not afraid to leave his castle in
the
sky, not afraid that His holiness would be contaminated here in
History; on the
contrary, humbling himself, taking human form, he became a servant. So
we sense
the presence of God in community – and where those things that break
community,
sin violence and injustice, are resisted. We who follow
the Way of Jesus Christ are called to be with people, despite their
hang-ups,
despite our hang-ups. One
of the most
common misconceptions of people, who start the Church, is that the
people, who
are doing the work and looking like they own the place, are especially
talented
or especially faithful, or especially Christian.
The other side
of this coin is that I am not; I do not have what it takes, I am not
talented
enough, I don’t have the right belief, my life is too messed up, I am
not
Christian enough, I am too different.
I
couldn’t possibly fit in. I
could never
have a sense of ownership here. Who
needs a kidney anyway? The left hand is doing fine without the right! I had that
feeling for a long time. God
was on my
mind, I loved to commune with God in nature, but the church often made
me
angry, much of the Bible didn’t make sense, I valued my freedom, and
besides,
my faith was weird, and I doubted I had the talent to be a good member
or
servant. The
thought police would find
me out as an imposter. Now there are
different levels of Christian maturity, different levels of experience
and
education, but looks can be deceiving; each person has strengths and
weaknesses, each goes through stages of life where we feel strong in
our faith
or weak, able to serve or more in need of nourishment, when prayer and
faith
comes easier and times when it comes hard.
Sometimes our feet need a rest, so we can read. Sometimes our mind needs a
rest, so we go
for a walk. Every one of us is here, not by merit but by grace. In Protestant
churches, this idea that we are saved by grace and not by works is so
frequently heard that it is easy to let it slip away as so much mumbo
jumbo, as
if the preacher were Charlie Brown’s teacher.
But it really is true.
If we
waited to join and contribute to community until we had our lives
straightened
out, until our faith was straightened out, then there would be an empty
building and a lot more lonely people.
The Gospel
tells us, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, that we
are loved,
forgiven and chosen by God, and we are called to come together in
community to
worship and serve, now, as we are.
So
this is the precondition for being a disciple of Christ, a member of
the body:
to have faith that we are loved and forgiven. The result of this faith
is
freedom, freedom from focus on our weakness, and thus power to focus on
our
strength…on what we have to contribute.
The result is what Paul Tillich calls the courage to
be: “The courage to
be is the courage to accept oneself, in spite of being unacceptable.” We may not have legs that
run after kids,
but we have hands to write. We
may not
like public speaking, but we can count.
We may not have the mind of a theologian, but we can
be kind and
generous. We may
not know the old
tradition, but we have new passion and energy.
Everybody has a part, and everybody is needed,
everyone has a reason to
be. I am thankful
for all the care and
work that went into hosting presbytery. So many people did so much. Our
part of
the meeting went great. Thank you. Of course,
another fear is that with belonging comes responsibility, obligation. We are too busy; there is
too much going on;
we want to keep our options open.
Now
if you had a bad experience with another church or if you were led into
this
church because your life hit a dead end and you are searching for new
life and
new direction, it may take a while to gain trust in a place and people,
to
decide this is a place where you will be fed or encouraged to serve by
God. And that is
fine. Take the time
you need. But there is a
part of our postmodern culture that would have us never commit, never
obligate
ourselves too deeply, to always keep our options open.
But the Gospel tells us that love, God’s
love is encountered in relationship, and the love of relationship
requires
commitment. Despite
who we are, despite
who they are, we are going to join together into one body and help one
another. We will
choose to do some things that are
inconvenient and require our time.
We
will try a job that we have never done because it needs to be done and
God is
calling us to do it. And
we will find
ourselves next to someone else we think we have nothing in common with. And with time, in
relationship, we discover
our uniqueness, but also our commonality.
In
Christianity, there really is not personal salvation, or as the Depeche
Mode
sings it, “My own personal Jesus.”
We
do have specific, personal sins, which need forgiveness, and Jesus
loves and
forgives us personally, he cares and hears our prayers as the song goes. But Christians and the
church are always
called back to community, always called back to be a light on a hill,
the bride
of Christ, the covenant people, a branch of the vine, a member of the
body of
Christ which works to exhibit and further the Kingdom of God to the
world; a
kingdom, as Third Isaiah dreams upon return from Exile, where there is
health
and justice, where workers build houses and inhabit them, and field
workers get
to eat what they plant, where people enjoy the work of their hands and
do not
labor in vain, where peace breaks out and wolf and lamb feed together. So being a
part of the body of Christ, there is some inconvenience to our personal
life,
as there is with any relationship that considers the needs and
uniqueness of
others, and works for the good of all.
But the paradox is that in service we are served, in
giving of ourselves
we find strength of self. Robert Bellah,
the Berkeley sociologist and author of Habits of the Heart,
which traces
the decline of civil community in American life, wrote a biographical
essay
entitled “Finding Church, Post Traditional Discipleship” (http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=438) In the 50s Bellah was convinced
of the value of
Christian faith by his Colleague at Harvard, Paul Tillich. But since he considered
his faith personal
he felt no need to join a community or tradition.
But years later here in Berkeley, after writing his
famous essay
on American Civil Religion, he felt drawn by his own writing and the
reception
it had in the faith community to join a church.
Bellah writes: “Both
the Protestant principle of voluntarism and the modern respect
for autonomous decision make it natural for adults to choose their own
religious affiliation. Here I would adopt the analogy of Hegel's
conception of
marriage, namely, that it is a contract to enter a noncontractual
relation. It
is a contract in that it is entered into freely. It is noncontractual
in that
it is in intention indissoluble. Hegel, a devoted Lutheran, allowed for
divorce
on the grounds that we are sinners and may not be able to live up to
our
intention, but the intention is never to be taken lightly. “Even though my church identity did
not
finally clarify until the past ten or 12 years, I feel it is no longer
an open
question for me. I suppose there might be developments in my parish or
my
denomination or myself that might cause me to change, but they would
have to be
drastic indeed to undermine what I now consider a settled commitment.
In any
case I hope never again to be cut off from the body of Christ in the
concrete
sociological meaning of that term. A period of seeking, when one tries
out
various options, would seem normal in our kind of society, but I would
not
recommend my protracted process. “I did not undergo an
existential decision to "return to religion" out of the pure
innerness of my personal situation. Even my initial shift in point of
view that
allowed me as an adult to consider religion as a viable option came
from my
exposure to Tillich and his confident assertion that Christianity is
not
"belief in the unbelievable." And my later turn to more active
fellowship in the company of believers was motivated as much by a
feeling that
the church had need of me as it was by any private needs of my own.” So by the
grace of God through Christ we gain the courage to be, as Tillich says,
“to
accept oneself, in spite of being unacceptable.”
Encountering one God, one Spirit, one baptism, We
gain the
courage to be in community, with others who dare to be, to play a
unique part
and share our unique gifts in the Body of Christ, and together we hope
and work
for a world where joy, health, justice and peace prevail. |
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