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I am an avid newspaper clipper, always
looking for sermon ideas, stories or tidbits to jazz up a
sermon. Here are two. The “Game On” page in the Free
Press, all about the latest in video games, offered this
one: “Get Ready to Join the Corleone Family: The Godfather
Wants You to Kill.” I thought the Corleone family had been
replaced by the Sopranos, but here they are again in video
game format. Listen to what you can do if you join the
family:
The object of the game is to earn respect
by any means necessary—extortion, murder, racketeering,
robbery and other crimes are key. You have to push the right
buttons when extorting shop owners. Knee-capping a barber
will change his mind. Or roughing up the baker’s customers.
Success results in more money for you and the Corleone
family, who gets a 70% cut.
(Brian Todd, Detroit Free Press,
July 1, 2007, page 8F)
And
this is a game???
Now this would be a great time for a
sermon on violence-as-entertainment, the impact of “screen
time” on our children, and the way the media molds our
values, but let’s save that for another Sunday. I use it
here as an example of the invitation…to join the family.
Here is another one, written by my friend
David Crumm, the former religion editor for the Free
Press: “Seeking Spirituality in the House of
Java—Starbucks.” David describes the Starbucks I used to
frequent just down from First United Methodist, on the
corner of State Street in Ann Arbor, where, he says, “weary
pilgrims enter by a broad center aisle flanked by seating
areas, which leads to the high altar.”
There behind the sacred table stands the
properly robed confessor awaiting the words “venti nonfat
latte,” and in response they offer the sacred chalice,
brewed reverently before me and topped with whipped cream.
Then I take the holy bread—in season I would hope for
cranberry bliss bar, but I will settle for molasses cookie.
As I offer my tribute in return, I see all around me
silent pilgrims gathered with gentle jazz music in
the background, opening their holy texts, their
laptops, and awaiting the moment of inspiration. I’ve
embroidered just a bit, but you get the picture. David
concludes: “Starbucks brilliantly assembles all the elements
required for spiritual solace in the midst of urban life.”
Whether the invitation is to the
Godfather family or the omnipresent coffeepot Mecca, it’s
all about gathering…into community...the need to belong and
the invitation to gather.
1. Our mission is to gather disciples of Jesus Christ.
The first step in our life together is
“life together.” I am a firm believer that there
is no such thing as a solitary Christian. Christian
experience is intensely personal, but never private.
The model of the New Testament saint is not the solitary
hermit in a cloistered closet, but a group of gathered
disciples with a common mission in their common Lord.
For sure, there is a time for private,
solitary time alone with God. But Jesus Christ promised to
make himself known where two or three are gathered together
in his name. He called the disciples, not in singular
attachment to a personal guru, like some kind of personal
trainer, but he called them to follow him together, a band
of brothers and sisters who share “one Lord, one faith, one
baptism, one God and one Father of us all who is above all
and in all.” We are called into community. We are called to
gather…together.
Mark Ralls says in the early days of the
early church, one of the most shocking concepts and one of
the most powerful gifts of the Holy Spirit was the gift of
hospitality. He says that in that day, the
non-Christians prized hospitality as well, but it was
hospitality extended to family and friends, those who could
reciprocate. Christian hospitality, on the other hand, was
“…notoriously indiscriminate. Not only were all welcome, but
it was those who were the least likely to reciprocate—the
widows, the orphans, the outcasts—who were its primary
recipients. Jesus’ hospitality was controversial. Jesus’
hospitality knew no limits. It was downright promiscuous.”
(Mark Ralls, Christian Century, Jan. 11, 2005, page
16)
Jeff Nelson recently came back from a
conference with a wonderful phrase: “radical hospitality.”
I love it! We are called to be downright radical in
our welcome and our hospitality, gathering disciples into
the new community of Christ. That’s the point of our new
Connecting Ministry. One of the most aggressive and
creative of our recent attempts at evangelism is the MidDay
Worship, with the clear goal of trying to reach people we
are not already reaching; to offer alternative ways of
sharing the gospel and gathering as the body.
In this
next year, we are going to be focusing on our mission to
“gather.” We will be evaluating all our ministries in the
light of this mission. We will be looking closely to
evaluate all of these ministries,
willing to take risks,
willing to try new things, then willing
to change course, if necessary,
willing to do whatever it takes to gather
others into the Body of Christ.
The church does not exist just for the
benefit of those who have found it. In fact, you could go so
far as to say that the church exists for those who
haven’t found it yet! Our task is not just to sit around
in a cozy sanctuary and sip Starbucks coffee. Our task is to
reach others with the winsome witness and warm invitation,
with radical hospitality, into the family of God.
We are
called together…to gather, in the name of Christ.
2. And we are gathered in order to be sent.
Our calling is not just the gathering,
not just the community. We are gathered as disciples for the
task of ministry in the world, gathered in order to be sent
in service for Jesus Christ in the world. Around here we
say we are: “Gathered in order to be nurtured and
equipped for mission and ministry in the world.”
That’s
our mission, our purpose, our task as a church.
Last week, many of us heard Bishop Will
Willimon address the United Methodist Union. He began by
reminding us that our United Methodist ministry is a “sent
ministry.” Clergy are not called by the local church or
hired by the local church. We are sent, appointed by the
Bishop to lead the congregation in ministry and mission. And
then he reminded us that it is not just the clergy who are
sent. In our baptism and our confirmation, through the
promises of membership, we are all “sent” on a mission to
serve Jesus Christ in the world; to use our prayers,
presence, gifts and service for the work of Christ.
Actually, Bishop Willimon went so far as to say that if you
don’t have a mission, you can’t really be a Christian.
Then he told the story of visiting a soup
kitchen in his home city of Birmingham, Alabama. There he
happened to bump into one of the leading laymen from one of
the major suburban churches working in the kitchen. The man
was a successful businessman, one of the leaders in the
community, with wealth and stature. And he said to him, “I
didn’t know you enjoyed working with homeless people.” The
man replied, “Who told you I enjoy working with the
homeless? Have you looked out there? They are dirty, smelly,
and some of them are half drunk. I don’t do this because I
enjoy it. I do it because Christ has called me to do it. If
Christ fed the hungry, so should we.”
We serve, not because we enjoy it, but
because we are sent.
We go because Christ has called us
together for this purpose.
We give because Christ has given.
We love because he first loved us.
We serve because Jesus said, “I am among
you as one who serves.”
In St. Paul’s last letter to the
Corinthians, he reminds them of their opportunities to
serve, their calling to share with the rest of the church.
He reminds them that those who sow sparingly will reap
sparingly, but those who sow bountifully will reap
bountifully. The more you give, the more you get. The more
you offer yourself to others, the better chance you will
have to find yourself in fulfillment and compassion. The
more you love, the more love you will receive.
…and you will be enriched in every way
for great generosity, which will produce thanksgiving to
God; for the rendering of service not only supplies the
needs of others, it overflows in thanksgiving to God.
Just ask the five hundred S.O.S.
volunteers. Just ask the Angel Tree workers. Just ask the
Rummage Sale brigade or the CROP walkers and rockers. Just
ask the youth who went to Ghana or the families who go to
Redbird. Just ask our mission team members in Costa Rica,
Prague, Africa and Estonia. Just ask the Pontiac tutors or
the Habitat builders, our landscapers, our Sunday school
teachers, our choir singers. Just ask anyone who has found a
place of meaningful service and they will tell you they have
been enriched in every way for great generosity, and that
their generosity overflows into thanksgiving to God. One of
the most important things we do around here is create
opportunities for people to serve.
We are gathered in order to be sent.
At the end of this paragraph about
generosity and service, St. Paul closes with this eloquent
phrase: “Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!” In
the context, he was obviously expressing thanks for the
grace of God in Jesus Christ, the ultimate gift, the truly
inexpressible gift of the life and death of his own son:
“Thanks be to God for GOD’S inexpressible gift.”
Then again, I wonder if, in the context,
he was saying thank you to the Corinthians for their
offerings. After all, that’s what this chapter is really all
about: their gifts for the ministry. “Thanks be to God
for YOUR inexpressible gifts.”
But suddenly, it dawned on me. Maybe he
was saying thanks for the gift of the opportunity to give.
Thanks be to God for the chance we have to touch the lives
of others. Thanks be to God for the avenues of service and
ministry which God opens to us. Thanks for the invitation to
be part of God’s work in the world. Thanks for the chance to
give! “Thanks be to God for this inexpressible gift.”
Gathered…and sent.
Richard Halverson was for many years the
pastor of Fourth Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C.,
then chaplain of the U.S. Senate. He tells the story of
flying back into Washington one night at dusk. As the plane
began to descend over the Potomac, he pressed his face
against the window to see if he could find the steeple of
his church, but the fog was clouding his vision and he
couldn’t make it out. Above the mist, he could see the
office buildings of Arlington and Alexandria, the lights of
Rosslyn. And out the other windows he could see the Capital
and the Pentagon, the Departments of State and Labor, the
House of Representatives.
And as he stared out the windows, he
began ticking off the names of members of Fourth
Presbyterian who worked in the State Department, the Labor
Department, the museums; the military bases, the House of
Representatives, the hospital. And suddenly it hit him,
“There! That’s Fourth Presbyterian Church!” Not the
steeple or the tower of a sanctuary, but spread out all over
the city, in homes and neighborhoods, in office buildings
and government halls, 24/7, in every area of life, serving
in the name of Jesus Christ….that’s the church…gathered and
sent.
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