Brett, my colleague at Boulevard Church, is using this picture on a poster advertising a young adult event. Aside from the weird twin thing going on, what's with the clothes and the hair? Did someone actually think this looked good?
I wonder if a lot of congregations don't look a bit like this picture to the world, or at least to people who did not grow up in the church. After all, you can enter into many congregations on a Sunday morning to find things virtually unchanged from what took place there in the 1950s.
Of course many would argue that part of Christianity's strength lies in its traditions. That is certainly true. Hearing Scripture read, sharing the peace that comes from being loved and forgiven by God, joining together at the Lord's Table; these are all wonderful traditions that have sustained the Church over the centuries. But that is not to say that most everything going on during Sunday worship is tradition. Much of it merely custom, the way we do it. Customs are like clothing and hair. Styles come an go. I thought that silk shirt looked good when I bought it. By I cringe to see a picture of me in it now.
Customs and styles change. But sometimes we in congregations act as though our styles and customs of worship are eternal. We insist that the hymns we grew up with are a tradition, not a custom. Pastors are supposed to wear robes, and don't dare mess with the layout of the sanctuary.
I ran across this quote from Abraham Heschel the other day. "Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid. When faith is completely replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit; when the crisis of today is ignored because of the splendor of the past; when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion, its message becomes meaningless."
Looking around this congregation, what part of us is genuine, Christian tradition bearing the truth of our faith, and what part is mere custom? Something to ponder.
Sermons and thoughts on faith on Scripture from my time at Old Presbyterian Meeting House and Falls Church Presbyterian Church, plus sermons and postings from "Pastor James," my blog while pastor at Boulevard Presbyterian in Columbus, OH.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
Today's gospel reading tells the "Emmaus Road" story, where the risen Jesus joins a pair of his followers on the road. He walks with them and interprets the scriptures to them along the way, but they do not recognize him. When they stop for the evening they invite him to stay with them. At the table, Jesus "took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him."
The allusion to the "Last Supper" a few nights earlier is obvious. But what about this reenactment of that meal reveals Jesus to them? Over the years, a lot of doctrinal fussing and fighting has gone on over the meaning of the Lord's Supper, Eucharist, Communion, or whatever you choose to call it. Certainly this story argues for this meal to have an important, prominent place in Christian practice.
I don't want to discount a mystical, spiritual presence of Jesus in the meal. I believe this is a part of the sacrament. But I wonder if Luke is talking about that here. If I try to ignore the doctrinal issues about the meal and look just at this story, it is quite possible that Luke is not focusing at all on the mystical. Two elements are here that are prominent in the early Christian movement: hospitality and table fellowship.
The story tells us that the disciples have to urge Jesus "strongly" to stay with them. Without this hospitality, no meal would ever have happened. And the idea of table fellowship with others will become extremely important as the Church begins to reach out to Gentiles. And in the second half of the two volume work, Luke-Acts, the issue of table fellowship with those who do not adhere to Jewish dietary laws becomes a big issue.
This story can certainly be read in other ways, but it seems very much in keeping with Jesus' basic message to say that when radical hospitality welcomes strangers into close fellowship, Jesus' presence becomes known.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
The allusion to the "Last Supper" a few nights earlier is obvious. But what about this reenactment of that meal reveals Jesus to them? Over the years, a lot of doctrinal fussing and fighting has gone on over the meaning of the Lord's Supper, Eucharist, Communion, or whatever you choose to call it. Certainly this story argues for this meal to have an important, prominent place in Christian practice.
I don't want to discount a mystical, spiritual presence of Jesus in the meal. I believe this is a part of the sacrament. But I wonder if Luke is talking about that here. If I try to ignore the doctrinal issues about the meal and look just at this story, it is quite possible that Luke is not focusing at all on the mystical. Two elements are here that are prominent in the early Christian movement: hospitality and table fellowship.
The story tells us that the disciples have to urge Jesus "strongly" to stay with them. Without this hospitality, no meal would ever have happened. And the idea of table fellowship with others will become extremely important as the Church begins to reach out to Gentiles. And in the second half of the two volume work, Luke-Acts, the issue of table fellowship with those who do not adhere to Jewish dietary laws becomes a big issue.
This story can certainly be read in other ways, but it seems very much in keeping with Jesus' basic message to say that when radical hospitality welcomes strangers into close fellowship, Jesus' presence becomes known.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
Most people go through times in their lives when everything seems to come unhinged. The situations that invite despair vary from person to person, but I dare say that some set of circumstances could drive anyone to wonder why the cosmos was coming unglued.
As a religious professional (I can identify myself as such because I get paid, not necessarily because I know what I'm doing), I am affected by the typical sorts of personal situations. But I also find that I can be terribly affected by religious goings on that don't really impact me directly. The "success" and appeal of prosperity gospel types such as Joel Osteen truly get under my skin. I am deeply troubled by politicians who invoke God's support but seem to understand little of the Bible's vision of a just society. And the fact that, in this so-called Christian nation, personal liberty generally trumps loving one's neighbor can drive me to the brink of despair.
I know that some Christians think it is a lack of faith to have doubts and to despair, but I seem to have a fair amount of company among the psalmists. Today's Psalm 12 is a case in point. "Help, O LORD, for there is no longer anyone who is godly; the faithful have disappeared from humankind." And it would seem that this pessimistic outlook is "Because the poor are despoiled, because the needy groan."
There are times when the psalms of lament resonate with me, but I am most struck by the faith that remains despite circumstances that make psalmists cry out, "How long, O Lord?" or "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" In times when everything around failed them, and even when God seems terribly absent, they still stake their trust in God. In my experience, I've seen this go both ways. When everything around them fails, some folks turn to God as their last hope. But sometimes folks give up on God. I've had my experiences in both directions.
If history is any guide, God's not going to wave any magic wand and set all things right, at least not in this age. And so I simply pray that when the people, institutions, and movements I hoped would make the world better fail and even betray me, I can trust that God remains faithful, and that in ways I may not be able to discern, God is somehow bending history toward God's intent.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
As a religious professional (I can identify myself as such because I get paid, not necessarily because I know what I'm doing), I am affected by the typical sorts of personal situations. But I also find that I can be terribly affected by religious goings on that don't really impact me directly. The "success" and appeal of prosperity gospel types such as Joel Osteen truly get under my skin. I am deeply troubled by politicians who invoke God's support but seem to understand little of the Bible's vision of a just society. And the fact that, in this so-called Christian nation, personal liberty generally trumps loving one's neighbor can drive me to the brink of despair.
I know that some Christians think it is a lack of faith to have doubts and to despair, but I seem to have a fair amount of company among the psalmists. Today's Psalm 12 is a case in point. "Help, O LORD, for there is no longer anyone who is godly; the faithful have disappeared from humankind." And it would seem that this pessimistic outlook is "Because the poor are despoiled, because the needy groan."
There are times when the psalms of lament resonate with me, but I am most struck by the faith that remains despite circumstances that make psalmists cry out, "How long, O Lord?" or "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" In times when everything around failed them, and even when God seems terribly absent, they still stake their trust in God. In my experience, I've seen this go both ways. When everything around them fails, some folks turn to God as their last hope. But sometimes folks give up on God. I've had my experiences in both directions.
If history is any guide, God's not going to wave any magic wand and set all things right, at least not in this age. And so I simply pray that when the people, institutions, and movements I hoped would make the world better fail and even betray me, I can trust that God remains faithful, and that in ways I may not be able to discern, God is somehow bending history toward God's intent.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
In today's gospel reading, we find Luke's account of Jesus' death on the cross. Following his death we read, "Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid."
I've sometimes wondered why Luke feels the need to tell us about Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph is mentioned in Mark and Matthew as well, but only Luke adds that Joseph, a council member, had been against the plan to have Jesus executed. We really don't need to know about Joseph. Knowing that Jesus has been taken down from the cross and laid in a tomb would be enough to set the stage for the events of Easter morn. But Luke tells us about Joseph's objection the killing of Jesus and his donation of an expensive, pristine tomb.
Surely Joseph cannot have anticipated the resurrection. To this man who was "waiting expectantly for the kingdom," things must have seemed in terrible disarray. His attempts to help Jesus on the council had failed. If he had hoped that Jesus was bringing the kingdom, those hopes had been dashed. And so his actions in today's reading must have seemed pointless to some. Why care for the body of a condemned criminal? Why give him such an expensive tomb? There was nothing to gain from these actions, no points to be made, no rewards to be earned.
I suppose that Joseph acts as he does simply because he is "good and righteous." And perhaps his prominent place in Luke's gospel is a reminder to us that being good and righteous and expecting the kingdom are not about goals and objectives or achievable outcomes. They are not about measuring whether our actions will bring about some desired good. Sometimes we people of faith need to do the right thing simply because it is the right thing, and leave it to God what unexpected part we might play in revealing God's kingdom.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
I've sometimes wondered why Luke feels the need to tell us about Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph is mentioned in Mark and Matthew as well, but only Luke adds that Joseph, a council member, had been against the plan to have Jesus executed. We really don't need to know about Joseph. Knowing that Jesus has been taken down from the cross and laid in a tomb would be enough to set the stage for the events of Easter morn. But Luke tells us about Joseph's objection the killing of Jesus and his donation of an expensive, pristine tomb.
Surely Joseph cannot have anticipated the resurrection. To this man who was "waiting expectantly for the kingdom," things must have seemed in terrible disarray. His attempts to help Jesus on the council had failed. If he had hoped that Jesus was bringing the kingdom, those hopes had been dashed. And so his actions in today's reading must have seemed pointless to some. Why care for the body of a condemned criminal? Why give him such an expensive tomb? There was nothing to gain from these actions, no points to be made, no rewards to be earned.
I suppose that Joseph acts as he does simply because he is "good and righteous." And perhaps his prominent place in Luke's gospel is a reminder to us that being good and righteous and expecting the kingdom are not about goals and objectives or achievable outcomes. They are not about measuring whether our actions will bring about some desired good. Sometimes we people of faith need to do the right thing simply because it is the right thing, and leave it to God what unexpected part we might play in revealing God's kingdom.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Sunday Sermon: "All God's Children: We Are All Witnesses"
From Acts 1:1-11; The multi-cultural, religiously plural world we now live in looks more and more like the world in the book of Acts. And Jesus' call to be his witnesses echoes down from that day to ours, pressing the question: What does it mean for us to be witnesses in a world that looks little like the one in which our congregation was born?
Sermon for July 5.mp3Friday, July 3, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
The daily readings from Acts have followed the growing persecutions of the Christians, noting Saul's approving presence at the stoning of Stephen. In today's reading, Saul is described as "still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord." Saul gets authority from the high priest to go to Damascus and arrest any followers of Jesus he might find there.
Saul's encounter with Jesus while on the road to Damascus became so well known and revered in Christian circles that it gave rise to the phrase "Damascus road experience" to describe a dramatic, life and faith changing moment. But while any Christian might want to have such an experience, Saul certainly didn't seek his encounter.
This is a rather remarkable model of evangelism. Not only is there no human agent, but Saul is hardly an obvious convert. He is an enemy, and the usual model of dealing with enemies is to avoid them or get rid of them. But Jesus embraces his enemy (admittedly in rather dramatic fashion). And Saul, renamed Paul, will go on to be one of the great heroes of the faith.
It would seem that from Jesus' perspective, the worst sort of folks aren't beyond the reach of God's grace. And while this might give us pause when we want to write someone off, it also offers tremendous personal reassurance. If Jesus won't give up on Saul, surely he won't give up on us.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Saul's encounter with Jesus while on the road to Damascus became so well known and revered in Christian circles that it gave rise to the phrase "Damascus road experience" to describe a dramatic, life and faith changing moment. But while any Christian might want to have such an experience, Saul certainly didn't seek his encounter.
This is a rather remarkable model of evangelism. Not only is there no human agent, but Saul is hardly an obvious convert. He is an enemy, and the usual model of dealing with enemies is to avoid them or get rid of them. But Jesus embraces his enemy (admittedly in rather dramatic fashion). And Saul, renamed Paul, will go on to be one of the great heroes of the faith.
It would seem that from Jesus' perspective, the worst sort of folks aren't beyond the reach of God's grace. And while this might give us pause when we want to write someone off, it also offers tremendous personal reassurance. If Jesus won't give up on Saul, surely he won't give up on us.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
I suspect that many readers of today's story in Acts miss the surprising, radical nature of Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch. Not only is this fellow a Gentile, but according to Scripture he could not be "admitted to the assembly of the LORD" (see Deuteronomy 23:1). Because he was a eunuch, he could not become a Jewish convert, and so his question to Philip, "Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?" is much more than a casual one. It raises issues of what the boundaries are in this new, Christian community.
In Isaiah 56, there is the promise that God's salvation will include those heretofore excluded, foreigners and even eunuchs. And now this event in Acts proclaims that God's salvation has indeed moved outside the boundaries set in the Law. And it seems to me that this raises real questions about the boundaries we might set today.
We humans seem to like "us and them" boundaries. We have boundaries of nation, ethnicity, politics, region, age, educational level, and gender, not to mention religion. But as Christians, we all are one in Christ. Today's reading from Acts speaks of the radical breaking down of boundaries. How are we Christians to live that out today? How might our faith communities bear witness to Christians unity rather than the conventional divisions of the world?
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
In Isaiah 56, there is the promise that God's salvation will include those heretofore excluded, foreigners and even eunuchs. And now this event in Acts proclaims that God's salvation has indeed moved outside the boundaries set in the Law. And it seems to me that this raises real questions about the boundaries we might set today.
We humans seem to like "us and them" boundaries. We have boundaries of nation, ethnicity, politics, region, age, educational level, and gender, not to mention religion. But as Christians, we all are one in Christ. Today's reading from Acts speaks of the radical breaking down of boundaries. How are we Christians to live that out today? How might our faith communities bear witness to Christians unity rather than the conventional divisions of the world?
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
Today's gospel reading from Luke tells of Jesus on trial before Pilate and Herod. Even non Christians are generally aware that Jesus fared poorly before both of these powerful men. And like Jesus, the early Christians often found that those in power did not care for the people who followed the risen Jesus.
None of this is very surprising when you consider Jesus' teachings. Especially in Luke's gospel, the coming of Jesus is portrayed as a threat to the rich and powerful but a boon for the poor and outcast.
But when the Church became an established religion nearly 300 years after Jesus, much of that changed. Christianity was pressed into the service of empire, and the Church became a powerful institution. In the West, this situation persisted until very recent times. And the Church has often struggled to stay true to Jesus' teachings while exercising and protecting its considerable power. Sometimes the Church is a champion of the poor and the outcast, the lowly and the least. But other times the Church has wielded power, insisting on laws that favored it and demanding that its version of morality be enforced. Even in America, with its separation of Church and State, the Church often threw its weight around.
But the Church's power has been greatly eroded in the past few generations. And many denominations and congregations are struggling to find their way in this new landscape. Some would like to recover the implements of power. Some elements of the Christian Right espouse a return to the good old days when Christian belief and morality was coerced and enforced on society. But I can't help but think that the Church lost its way back in the time of Emperor Constantine, who made Christianity the Roman state religion because he thought Jesus had helped him win a great battle.
I wonder what the Church would look like if we abandoned all the trappings of power. I'm not suggesting that Christians shouldn't vote or influence public opinion, but what if we did this more in the manner of Jesus? What if we exhibited more loving concern for the lost and the broken, for the weak and the poor, and saved our harshest criticism for those who oppress, for self-righteous, self-serving religious leaders and institutions? I wonder what the Church would look like then.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
None of this is very surprising when you consider Jesus' teachings. Especially in Luke's gospel, the coming of Jesus is portrayed as a threat to the rich and powerful but a boon for the poor and outcast.
But when the Church became an established religion nearly 300 years after Jesus, much of that changed. Christianity was pressed into the service of empire, and the Church became a powerful institution. In the West, this situation persisted until very recent times. And the Church has often struggled to stay true to Jesus' teachings while exercising and protecting its considerable power. Sometimes the Church is a champion of the poor and the outcast, the lowly and the least. But other times the Church has wielded power, insisting on laws that favored it and demanding that its version of morality be enforced. Even in America, with its separation of Church and State, the Church often threw its weight around.
But the Church's power has been greatly eroded in the past few generations. And many denominations and congregations are struggling to find their way in this new landscape. Some would like to recover the implements of power. Some elements of the Christian Right espouse a return to the good old days when Christian belief and morality was coerced and enforced on society. But I can't help but think that the Church lost its way back in the time of Emperor Constantine, who made Christianity the Roman state religion because he thought Jesus had helped him win a great battle.
I wonder what the Church would look like if we abandoned all the trappings of power. I'm not suggesting that Christians shouldn't vote or influence public opinion, but what if we did this more in the manner of Jesus? What if we exhibited more loving concern for the lost and the broken, for the weak and the poor, and saved our harshest criticism for those who oppress, for self-righteous, self-serving religious leaders and institutions? I wonder what the Church would look like then.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
In today's reading from Acts, the killing of Stephen leads to a wholesale persecution of the first Christians. Acts provides no insights into what those Christians were feeling at that time or what they thought about these developments. But surely they had to have been perplexed. They had sought to be faithful, to do as God had called them to do, and now people were being arrested and even killed.
It's speculation on my part, but I have to assume that it was only much later, in hindsight, that these Christians were able to have the perspective of the book of Acts. In our reading, the persecution of the Church leads directly to the Church spreading out over the Mediterranean world, fulfilling the command of Jesus to be his witnesses "in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Very often in my own life of faith, or my feeble attempts at one, it is very difficult to make sense of events. Sometimes the phrase, "No good deed goes unpunished" comes readily to mind. But I think that some popular notions of faith are very unhelpful at moments like these. Faith has never been about easy platitudes that make everything okay. Faith is about trusting, even in times of terrible darkness, that somehow God's will is nonetheless moving forward. Surely the Christians in today's reading from Acts must have cried out, must have demanded of God, "Why?" or "How long?" After all, they knew well the psalms of lament that that speak this way.
Many times I would like faith to mean that if I do certain things and believe certain things then God will have to treat me favorably. But such easy faith formulas eventually fail us. And when they do, God may open the door to a deeper faith which dares to trust that God is at work even in life's most difficult moments. After all, that is the model we have from Jesus in his prayer at Gethsemane.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
It's speculation on my part, but I have to assume that it was only much later, in hindsight, that these Christians were able to have the perspective of the book of Acts. In our reading, the persecution of the Church leads directly to the Church spreading out over the Mediterranean world, fulfilling the command of Jesus to be his witnesses "in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Very often in my own life of faith, or my feeble attempts at one, it is very difficult to make sense of events. Sometimes the phrase, "No good deed goes unpunished" comes readily to mind. But I think that some popular notions of faith are very unhelpful at moments like these. Faith has never been about easy platitudes that make everything okay. Faith is about trusting, even in times of terrible darkness, that somehow God's will is nonetheless moving forward. Surely the Christians in today's reading from Acts must have cried out, must have demanded of God, "Why?" or "How long?" After all, they knew well the psalms of lament that that speak this way.
Many times I would like faith to mean that if I do certain things and believe certain things then God will have to treat me favorably. But such easy faith formulas eventually fail us. And when they do, God may open the door to a deeper faith which dares to trust that God is at work even in life's most difficult moments. After all, that is the model we have from Jesus in his prayer at Gethsemane.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Musings on the Daily Lectionary
Today's reading from Acts depicts the end of Stephen's speech as he is on trial before the religious authorities. Stephen does not really address the charges against him, but he does recount the history of Israel beginning with Abraham. Two key points come up in today's reading. Stephen reminds the Council that although Solomon built a house for God, "the Most High does not dwell in houses made with human hands." This point is apparently related to Stephen's charge that "you are forever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors did." And he connects the persecution and killing of the prophets in previous times to the rejection and killing of Jesus.
It would be easy to regard this as simply an account of events far in the past. But I believe Stephen speaks of timeless truths here. Religious institutions by nature often seek to contain and manage God, to get God on our side. This is not an argument against religious institutions. It's nigh impossible to practice any faith seriously without one. But we religious folk need to be keenly aware that institutions run by humans are prone to human frailties. As my own Reformed tradition has long held, religious institutions need checks against these tendencies, and we need to be reformed on a fairly regular basis.
And this brings me back to Stephen's lesson for the Council and for us. I am increasingly convinced that in a time of huge changes in history and culture, new models of church must and indeed are emerging. Figuring out which of these models are "of the Spirit" and which are more worldly is a daunting task. But regardless, this is a time to be very attuned to the working of the Spirit, and to be very aware of our tendency to resist the Spirit in favor of the institutional apparatus we already have in place.
I truly believe we are living in one of the most exciting times for the Christian Church since the Protestant Reformation. But this means we are living in a tumultous time for the Church as well. But let us not cling to old wineskins simply because we fear the tumult. With humility, passion, openness, and testing, let us seek to follow where the Spirit leads, trusting that the future is secure in God's hands.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
It would be easy to regard this as simply an account of events far in the past. But I believe Stephen speaks of timeless truths here. Religious institutions by nature often seek to contain and manage God, to get God on our side. This is not an argument against religious institutions. It's nigh impossible to practice any faith seriously without one. But we religious folk need to be keenly aware that institutions run by humans are prone to human frailties. As my own Reformed tradition has long held, religious institutions need checks against these tendencies, and we need to be reformed on a fairly regular basis.
And this brings me back to Stephen's lesson for the Council and for us. I am increasingly convinced that in a time of huge changes in history and culture, new models of church must and indeed are emerging. Figuring out which of these models are "of the Spirit" and which are more worldly is a daunting task. But regardless, this is a time to be very attuned to the working of the Spirit, and to be very aware of our tendency to resist the Spirit in favor of the institutional apparatus we already have in place.
I truly believe we are living in one of the most exciting times for the Christian Church since the Protestant Reformation. But this means we are living in a tumultous time for the Church as well. But let us not cling to old wineskins simply because we fear the tumult. With humility, passion, openness, and testing, let us seek to follow where the Spirit leads, trusting that the future is secure in God's hands.
Click here to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
I didn't preach today. Brett, our associate pastor, who usually preaches once a month, did so today. I helped lead worship, but with my reduced role, it was easier for me to join in the worship and to listen for God in the Word read and preached. And so this seems like a good moment to reflect on the summer sermon series that is underway.
We normally preach from the lectionary readings here at Boulevard Presbyterian, but last summer and this, we have chosen Bible passages to fit a theme. Last year we focused on the idea of call. This summer Brett and I are more tightly focusing our view, preaching on a specific call we believe is given to BPC: the call to be a congregation that reaches out, welcomes all, and exhibits Christian hospitality to everyone we meet. The unifying theme is "All God's Children."
Brett's sermon today - "All God's Children: Us and Them" - not only fit well into this theme, but it also pointed to the crucial challenge facing most traditional congregations. Many people my age and older grew up understanding their church life as an integral part of life in America. Church participation was simply one facet of good citizenship, of being a part of our local community. But those days are long gone, and congregational methods and styles well suited to that day may no longer serve us well.
Not only are Americans much less a culture of joiners than we were 50 years ago, but being part of a congregation is no longer a recognized part of what it means to be active in a community. Churches are no longer propped up by culture. Nothing closes on Sunday morning, and no one is dismissed in public life if he is not part of a congregation. All of this means that Christian faith now must present itself to the people around it in entirely new ways. If people no longer come to Church because they are supposed to, because everybody goes, etc. how do we communicate the faith to those outside our walls.
Actually, I see this as a huge opportunity for congregations to rediscover their calling and purpose. But this opportunity also brings a fear of the unknown. In both the opportunity and the fear, we have connections to those Jewish Christians of the First Century who began to reach out to Gentiles, to those they had long considered religiously unclean. The Church exploded across the Mediterranean world because they reached out, but they had to overcome much anxiety about losing their Jewish identities, about giving up old, familiar, comfortable ways of doing things. Our communities are filled with people looking for meaning and purpose who are not "church folks." And like those first Jewish Christians, we must learn to translate our faith into their, non-churched world. We may even have to give up some of our traditional church identities in the process, in the same way that the early Church gave up much of its "Jewishness" in the process of reaching out to non-Jews.
Our call to reach out, to find new ways to speak the faith to non-churched folks, is in no way a condemnation of our congregations. Rather it is the embracing of a new call for a new age. Neither is this a call simply to thow out everything traditional. Instead it is a call to serve God first and institution second. It is a call to think carefully about which traditions are essential, core parts of the faith, and which traditions are simply habits, the ways that we did things that were well suited to a particular time, but not necessarily to this one.
Now I am not naive enough to think that a summer sermon series is going to change any congregation overnight. But I do think it is one, important step in considering who we are and what we are called to do as the Church of Jesus Christ on Northwest Boulevard in Grandview Heights. It has certainly helped me wrestle with this question, and I hope it will be of some help to others who want, more than anything, to be faithful to Christ's call.
We normally preach from the lectionary readings here at Boulevard Presbyterian, but last summer and this, we have chosen Bible passages to fit a theme. Last year we focused on the idea of call. This summer Brett and I are more tightly focusing our view, preaching on a specific call we believe is given to BPC: the call to be a congregation that reaches out, welcomes all, and exhibits Christian hospitality to everyone we meet. The unifying theme is "All God's Children."
Brett's sermon today - "All God's Children: Us and Them" - not only fit well into this theme, but it also pointed to the crucial challenge facing most traditional congregations. Many people my age and older grew up understanding their church life as an integral part of life in America. Church participation was simply one facet of good citizenship, of being a part of our local community. But those days are long gone, and congregational methods and styles well suited to that day may no longer serve us well.
Not only are Americans much less a culture of joiners than we were 50 years ago, but being part of a congregation is no longer a recognized part of what it means to be active in a community. Churches are no longer propped up by culture. Nothing closes on Sunday morning, and no one is dismissed in public life if he is not part of a congregation. All of this means that Christian faith now must present itself to the people around it in entirely new ways. If people no longer come to Church because they are supposed to, because everybody goes, etc. how do we communicate the faith to those outside our walls.
Actually, I see this as a huge opportunity for congregations to rediscover their calling and purpose. But this opportunity also brings a fear of the unknown. In both the opportunity and the fear, we have connections to those Jewish Christians of the First Century who began to reach out to Gentiles, to those they had long considered religiously unclean. The Church exploded across the Mediterranean world because they reached out, but they had to overcome much anxiety about losing their Jewish identities, about giving up old, familiar, comfortable ways of doing things. Our communities are filled with people looking for meaning and purpose who are not "church folks." And like those first Jewish Christians, we must learn to translate our faith into their, non-churched world. We may even have to give up some of our traditional church identities in the process, in the same way that the early Church gave up much of its "Jewishness" in the process of reaching out to non-Jews.
Our call to reach out, to find new ways to speak the faith to non-churched folks, is in no way a condemnation of our congregations. Rather it is the embracing of a new call for a new age. Neither is this a call simply to thow out everything traditional. Instead it is a call to serve God first and institution second. It is a call to think carefully about which traditions are essential, core parts of the faith, and which traditions are simply habits, the ways that we did things that were well suited to a particular time, but not necessarily to this one.
Now I am not naive enough to think that a summer sermon series is going to change any congregation overnight. But I do think it is one, important step in considering who we are and what we are called to do as the Church of Jesus Christ on Northwest Boulevard in Grandview Heights. It has certainly helped me wrestle with this question, and I hope it will be of some help to others who want, more than anything, to be faithful to Christ's call.
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