Heavenly
Expectations (2/21/16)
Paul Klee, Rising Star
Well, I guess it's been a little while since the last time I posted a sermon to my blog. The good news is, I survived Lent, Holy Week, and Easter. And now that I'm rising out of my post-Easter fog, it's time to clear out this backlog of sermon content. Throughout Lent, my sermons have explored the questions of our identity as a congregation at FUPC, Houston.
Heavenly Expectations (2/21/16)
Sermon
Good morning!
What a difference a week makes! I really hope that all of you got to enjoy that
gorgeous weather yesterday. I was out running in shorts and a t-shirt. On
February 20th! It was perfect weather for running—not quite as nice
as it was three weeks ago when I was in Puerto Rico, but it was amazing for
western Pennsylvania in February. It’s probably the third or fourth time this
year that it’s been warm enough to be out running in shorts and a t-shirt. And
that’s just in 2016. It was warm enough to run in shorts on Thanksgiving Day
and Christmas Day. We should probably all be alarmed by the number of
unseasonably warm days we’ve had this winter . . . but I’m not complaining. Why
should we be worried about nice weather? Why should we question the good
things? Why, indeed?
In
our reading from Genesis, Abram—remember, at this point in the story, he’s
still called Abram, he hasn’t yet been renamed Abraham—is questioning God. At
this point in the story, Abram is at least seventy-five years old. God has
already promised him that he, Abram, will be the father of a great nation. Yet
Abram still has no children. He is distraught. Abram thinks that he will have
to leave all his land and all his possessions to his slave, Eliezer. So Abram
cries out to the Lord: “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in
my house is to be my heir.” But God replies, “This man shall not be your heir;
no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” God tells Abram, “Look
toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them,” that will be
the number of Abram’s descendants.
Abram
believes everything that God tells him. God also tells Abram that he will
possess all the land he sees, and so will his descendants. And still, Abram
asks, “O Lord GOD, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” For Abram, living
out his faith seems easy: God commands and Abram obeys. That’s it! Of course
Abram gets to talk directly to God. No wonder it’s easy for Abram! All the
same, Abram has trouble believing in something he cannot see.
I
think Abram’s difficulties are not unlike our own. We say that we believe in
God and we trust in God, but sometimes we put ropes on some of the pews so that
more people sit in the middle of the sanctuary. Sure, it feels like there are
more people in the middle pews, but it’s an optical illusion. We all know there
aren’t as many people here in worship as there used to be. The Session, by the
way, has been busy examining the membership rolls. We now have 223 active
members here at First United Presbyterian Church. A generation ago it was probably
somewhere between four and five hundred. Some of you are old enough to remember
a time when you could barely find room in the pews. And woe be to you if you
sat in someone else’s pew! God might forgive you, but Mr. Miller or Mrs.
Franklin certainly would not!
It’s
kind of sad when you don’t see all your old friends here in the sanctuary. Some
have passed away, while others just don’t get around well enough to come to
worship. Still others have moved into assisted living facilities, or retired to
Florida, or moved away because of work. Some younger people stop coming to
church after the finish high school or college. Or maybe they have young
children and their kids play basketball or soccer or baseball, or they’re on
the swim team. The parents are busy and the kids are busy. Church has become
just one option among many things that compete for our time and attention.
Folks,
it would be easy for me to stand here and blame the culture. We’ve all done it!
We’ve all moaned about youth sports—when I was a kid, they never had games on
Sundays! But guess what? That doesn’t get us anywhere. We’ve been complaining
about it for years, but nothing changes. Sometimes it’s too hard to swim
upstream.
And
it’s not just the church that feels like it’s in decline. Our civic
institutions also feel like they are in decline. We used to trust in our
government, more or less, but not anymore. We used to trust our banks, but not
anymore. We used to trust all sorts of businesses, but now, not so much. We
made lots of assumptions. We assumed the church would always be like it was. We
also assumed our country would always be like it was. We placed our trust in
human institutions like the government and corporations. We placed our trust in
government leaders, business leaders, and church leaders—humans, all of them.
We placed our trust in all sorts of things that we could see, and then we saw
them fail. And that’s why I’m not willing to blame youth sports or busy
schedules or any other single part of the culture for our decline as an institution.
We are part of the same culture that produced all those things. We all assumed
nothing would change. But for many, many people, things did change. Even for
people who once sat in these very pews, things changed! The question is, are we
willing to change, or are we just going to sit here and hope that things will
get better? And if we are to change, how do we do it? How do we move forward?
The
Apostle Paul offers us some ideas on the way to move forward in this morning’s
reading from the letter to the Philippians. He tells the congregation at
Philippi to imitate him, to live as he does. “Paul sees himself and other
evangelists of God's love in Christ as living in this same way,” giving up
power and privilege to live the life of an apostle, proclaiming Christ’s love
and God’s grace, so that all people might be incorporated into the body of
Christ, the church.[1]
Of course, Paul and the other evangelists attempted to live in imitation of
Christ. The symbol of the cross reminds of the ultimate end of Christ’s life,
as well as the lives of many of those early evangelists.
This
call to absolute servitude, even to the point of death on a cross, was a tough
sell for the congregation at Philippi. Like us, they put their trust in things
they could see, and also in their own human strength, rather than in the
weakness, suffering, and sacrifice of the cross. You see, the Philippians were
a proud group of people.
Philippi
was a Roman colony. That meant that land in Philippi had been given to Roman
soldiers after they had completed their service in the legions. Think about
that for a second. Many of the Philippians were veterans. I imagine most of you
know a few people who served in the armed forces of the United States; perhaps
some of you are veterans. I’ve never met a veteran who was not proud of his or
her service.
This
must have been true in Philippi, too. Imagine that you were a Roman soldier in
the middle of the First Century. Perhaps you were a Roman citizen, but you had
little property or chance of advancement. Or maybe you were a freeman, but not
a full citizen of the Empire. Service in the legions was your chance for moving
up in the world. The term of service in the Roman legions was typically
twenty-five years. So, after all those years of marching around the Roman
world, sleeping on the ground, in the cold, eating bad food, and fighting the
enemies of the Empire—where you might have been outnumbered five-to-one, or
six-to-one, or ten-to-one—if you made it through all that, then you got a plot of
farm land and you earned the right to be called a Roman citizen. You made it!
Now, you were someone. And you earned it! How could you not be proud?
And why would you put your trust in things you couldn’t see? The men of
Philippi knew the might of the Roman Empire. They knew what they could
accomplish through their collective strength and there were not quick to give
up the power and wealth they had earned.
I’m
not telling you that you have to sell all your possessions and become an
itinerant preacher. I mean, I think Jesus does say something about selling
everything you own and following him. I’m pretty sure that’s in one or two or
maybe even three of the gospels, but I’m not gonna go there today.
What
I am going to suggest is that you start letting go of your assumptions and
preconceptions about what church was and is and how it ought to look. I’m also
going to tell you to let go of all of your assumptions about the people who
aren’t here in the pews. Instead of blaming the culture for their absence, just
go out and talk to the people who aren’t here. Listen to them. Don’t tell them
what’s wrong with them or the world, just listen. It might not be a comfortable
conversation, but it might help to shed some light on the way forward.
And
there are many ways forward; there are lots of ways to imitate Christ. Give of
yourself. Serve others. Many of you already do this. Keep doing it. Do more. Do
it as a congregation. Do it visibly, so that the people who aren’t here in the
pews can see that you are living out the call to discipleship. But don’t do it
simply to be seen. Do it because the Holy Spirit is moving within you.
Be
prepared to do things differently. Be prepared to go out and meet people where
they are, rather than waiting for them to find you. Be prepared to make
changes—and that means a lot more than just learning some new hymns. Strip away
the things that distract you from this mission. Ignore the voices that tell you
that all of these changes in the church are someone else’s fault. Silence the
voices that tell you that all of this is someone else’s job. Blame and apathy
are earthly things. Set your minds on heavenly things. Expect change. Look for
heavenly changes. Pray for guidance and pray for the movement of the Spirit.
This will be difficult, but that’s okay. Avoid the easy path. We are called to
be the church in every age. This is a new age, so let’s look to God and let’s
look forward. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Benediction
Now,
beloved, as you depart from this place, remember that this is the season to
look inward. Reflect on those things that are holding you back, and then work
to prune those vines. Go forth and be instruments of God’s peace and
reconciliation. Do not return evil for evil to any person, but know that we are
all loved by God, and that we are called to reflect that love to everyone we
meet. In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, let all God’s children say, Amen!
[1] Sarah
Henrich, “Commentary on Philippians 3:17-4:1,” retrieved from http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2775
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