Friday, October 15, 2010
Guest Preacher at Emanuel UCC this Sunday Oct 17
The Rev. Bryan Olson is starting up a new United Church of Christ congregation in Bucks County. He's coming to Emanuel UCC this Sunday, October 17. Please join us at 10 a.m. and help us welcome Bryan to Bridesburg. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson). www.emanuelphila.org
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Unchained Melody
(Scriptures: Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7, Psalm 66
2 Timothy 2:8-15 Luke 17:11-19)
Today’s Epistle reading from Paul gives us a picture of Paul, in prison, writing a letter of encouragement and instruction to his protégé, Timothy, who has the task of being Paul’s arms and legs in carrying the gospel where Paul’s chains of imprisonment will not permit him to go in person. It’s a time in which Paul has cause for discouragement; not only is he imprisoned, but, as he writes, “all who are in Asia have turned away from me.” Yet Paul is undaunted. In the section preceding today’s reading, Paul gives Timothy three images of how Timothy should carry himself as a disciple of Christ: as a soldier enlisted by Jesus Christ, who singlemindedly serves his enlisting officer by avoiding entanglements in routine matters, as an athlete competing for the prize, and as a farmer who, having planted and watered the crops, should get first share in the harvest.
And then we come to today’s reading, where Paul gives Timothy a capsule summary of the Gospel: Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendent of David – this is my gospel, Paul says. This is the message that’s causing all the trouble, the message for which Paul has suffered hardship, to the point of being chained like a criminal. And then Paul makes a remarkable affirmation – “But the word of God is not chained.” It sounds like a throwaway line, but this is what keeps Paul going – “I am in chains, but the word of God is not chained.” The word of God, the Gospel, has a power to save that transcends our physical limitations. If Paul can’t carry the message in person, he’ll write to Timothy. If Paul can’t travel, Timothy will. And if Timothy can’t, God will raise up someone else. The word of God is not chained, will not be chained, indeed, cannot be chained.
We encounter this unchained word of God in our reading from Jeremiah. The exile foretold by Jeremiah has come to pass. God’s people are exiles among their enemies, strangers in a strange land. And the people are all over the place in how they view their situation. Some, like the false prophet Hananiah, are promising that, if everybody just sits tight, they’ll be back in Judah in two years, and the memory of all this disruption will fade like the memory of a bad dream fades at daybreak. Others are utterly beside themselves with grief. Their words reverberate in Psalm 137, which was one of the optional readings for last Sunday – the Psalmist writes, “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion, and so we hung up our harps, there upon the willows. For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land….” A few lines later in the Psalm, grief turns to rage, as the Psalmist writes, “O city of Babylon, you devastator….Happy shall they be who will take your little ones and dash them against a rock!” Hey, Psalmist, no need to hold back….tell us how you really feel! But in all seriousness, this very human psalm tells us that God knows our heart, and that we can take all our feelings to the Lord in prayer, even the ugliest, the most violent, the most sickening of our feelings….we can take them to the Lord in prayer. Instead of acting out, we can talk them out with God.
But Jeremiah sounds a different note. He doesn’t indulge in wishful thinking as the false prophet Hananiah did, or lash out blindly in the manner of Psalm 137. Instead, he urges the exiles to settle into their situation, to build houses and live in them, to plant trees and gardens, to raise families, even to seek the peace and pray for the welfare of Babylon – for Babylon’s welfare is inseparable from their own. Because the word of the Lord is unchained – God is not only the God of the Temple, which had just been destroyed, not only the God of Jerusalem, which had been leveled, not only the God of Judah which had been exiled. God was greater than any of these – indeed, the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, and God was as present in Babylon as God had been present in Judah. The exiles ultimately would come to learn to sing the Lord’s song in a new land. It would be the unchained word of God that sustained the exiles through the decades of their captivity.
God’s love cannot be chained by social boundaries any more than by national or geographic boundaries. Our Gospel gives us a healing story – Jesus is in a border area between Judea – friendly territory – and Samaria – potentially hostile territory. He runs across 10 lepers, united only in their misery and their isolation from their communities. But the word of God is unchained – Jesus has only to speak the word, and they are healed. Jesus tells them to go through the ritual for being reintegrated into their communities. Nine dutifully follow instructions, but one is overcome by his own unchained gratitude – he returns to Jesus and throws himself at Jesus’ feet.
This unchained melody of God’s love plays on today. Because of Jesus, we can sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land. No matter how disheartened we may be by our society, by our surroundings, by our neighbors – we can still sing the Lord’s song, the unchained melody of God’s love, wherever God plants us.
For many of our neighbors need to hear the unchained Word of God, to hear the unchained melody of God’s love. In Jesus’ day it was lepers and Samaritans. Today the names are different, but there are those our society treats as lepers and Samaritans, people to be harassed, people to be shunned. Over the past few weeks, the names of a number of young people have been in the news: Tyler Clementi, Rutgers Univ. age 18, a talented violinist. Asher Brown, Houston, TX, age 13, an A student. Justin Aaberg, 15, Anoka, Minnesota, a cellist. Raymond Chase, 19, Rhode Island, a culinary student. Billy Lucas, Greensberg, Indiana, age 15, loved animals. Seth Walsh, age 13, Fresno, California, an aspiring artist. All young men, harassed, bullied, cyberstalked, most physically attacked for being gay – or for appearing to be gay – and driven to despair, to the extent that each one ended his life, five of them in the month of September alone. Tyler Clementi jumped off the George Washington Bridge. Asher Brown found his father’s gun and shot himself. Raymond Chase, hanged himself. Seth Walsh hanged himself, was found barely alive by his parents and died in the intensive care unit 9 days later. Justin Aaberg hanged himself. Billy Lucas hanged himself. Somewhere along the line, those who harassed and attacked these young men learned that what they were doing was ok. And somewhere along the line, these young men learned to hate themselves. Where did the young people learn these things? From their parents. From the wider society. From the media. And all too often, at church, as message of damnation from many churches spread their poison to a wider audience. We tell ourselves, sticks and stones may break our bones but names can never hurt us. But many who hear themselves called names, who hear words of hate day in and day out for years on end, give up hope of ever hearing anything else, give up hope of finding love and respect, eventually give up on life itself. For every person who kills himself or herself, many others have thoughts of giving up on life. Of those who don’t shoot themselves or hang themselves, some kill themselves slowly with alcohol and drugs, while others are walking wounded, struggling day in and day out with depression and anxiety. Words have the power to kill – and words have the power to heal. Many see the message of welcome and inclusion and respect offered by the United Church of Christ as pandering to political correctness. But to the extent that our church members – and their children – are taught to extend the love of Christ to all of those around us – male, female, black, white, rich, poor, gay, straight – it could make the difference between life and death for young – and even not-so-young - people struggling to find their way.
The unchained Word of God sustained the Jewish exiles through decades of exile in Babylon. The unchained Word of God healed ten lepers, and one of them was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he fell at Jesus feet to thank him. The unchained Word of God sustained Paul in his imprisonment. May we at Emanuel Church likewise be sustained, as individuals and as a congregation, by the unchained melody of God’s love in all our trials. And may we share that unchained melody of God’s love with our friends, our neighbors, our coworkers, all those living with depression and despair, all those searching for love. For we have this promise from Scripture:
If we have died with Christ, we will also live with Christ;
if we endure, we will also reign with Christ;
if we deny Christ, he will also deny us;
if we are faithless, Christ remains faithful—
for he cannot deny himself.
Christ remains faithful to us. May we at Emanuel Church remain faithful as well. Amen.
***************
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson). www.emanuelphila.org
2 Timothy 2:8-15 Luke 17:11-19)
Today’s Epistle reading from Paul gives us a picture of Paul, in prison, writing a letter of encouragement and instruction to his protégé, Timothy, who has the task of being Paul’s arms and legs in carrying the gospel where Paul’s chains of imprisonment will not permit him to go in person. It’s a time in which Paul has cause for discouragement; not only is he imprisoned, but, as he writes, “all who are in Asia have turned away from me.” Yet Paul is undaunted. In the section preceding today’s reading, Paul gives Timothy three images of how Timothy should carry himself as a disciple of Christ: as a soldier enlisted by Jesus Christ, who singlemindedly serves his enlisting officer by avoiding entanglements in routine matters, as an athlete competing for the prize, and as a farmer who, having planted and watered the crops, should get first share in the harvest.
And then we come to today’s reading, where Paul gives Timothy a capsule summary of the Gospel: Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendent of David – this is my gospel, Paul says. This is the message that’s causing all the trouble, the message for which Paul has suffered hardship, to the point of being chained like a criminal. And then Paul makes a remarkable affirmation – “But the word of God is not chained.” It sounds like a throwaway line, but this is what keeps Paul going – “I am in chains, but the word of God is not chained.” The word of God, the Gospel, has a power to save that transcends our physical limitations. If Paul can’t carry the message in person, he’ll write to Timothy. If Paul can’t travel, Timothy will. And if Timothy can’t, God will raise up someone else. The word of God is not chained, will not be chained, indeed, cannot be chained.
We encounter this unchained word of God in our reading from Jeremiah. The exile foretold by Jeremiah has come to pass. God’s people are exiles among their enemies, strangers in a strange land. And the people are all over the place in how they view their situation. Some, like the false prophet Hananiah, are promising that, if everybody just sits tight, they’ll be back in Judah in two years, and the memory of all this disruption will fade like the memory of a bad dream fades at daybreak. Others are utterly beside themselves with grief. Their words reverberate in Psalm 137, which was one of the optional readings for last Sunday – the Psalmist writes, “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion, and so we hung up our harps, there upon the willows. For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land….” A few lines later in the Psalm, grief turns to rage, as the Psalmist writes, “O city of Babylon, you devastator….Happy shall they be who will take your little ones and dash them against a rock!” Hey, Psalmist, no need to hold back….tell us how you really feel! But in all seriousness, this very human psalm tells us that God knows our heart, and that we can take all our feelings to the Lord in prayer, even the ugliest, the most violent, the most sickening of our feelings….we can take them to the Lord in prayer. Instead of acting out, we can talk them out with God.
But Jeremiah sounds a different note. He doesn’t indulge in wishful thinking as the false prophet Hananiah did, or lash out blindly in the manner of Psalm 137. Instead, he urges the exiles to settle into their situation, to build houses and live in them, to plant trees and gardens, to raise families, even to seek the peace and pray for the welfare of Babylon – for Babylon’s welfare is inseparable from their own. Because the word of the Lord is unchained – God is not only the God of the Temple, which had just been destroyed, not only the God of Jerusalem, which had been leveled, not only the God of Judah which had been exiled. God was greater than any of these – indeed, the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, and God was as present in Babylon as God had been present in Judah. The exiles ultimately would come to learn to sing the Lord’s song in a new land. It would be the unchained word of God that sustained the exiles through the decades of their captivity.
God’s love cannot be chained by social boundaries any more than by national or geographic boundaries. Our Gospel gives us a healing story – Jesus is in a border area between Judea – friendly territory – and Samaria – potentially hostile territory. He runs across 10 lepers, united only in their misery and their isolation from their communities. But the word of God is unchained – Jesus has only to speak the word, and they are healed. Jesus tells them to go through the ritual for being reintegrated into their communities. Nine dutifully follow instructions, but one is overcome by his own unchained gratitude – he returns to Jesus and throws himself at Jesus’ feet.
This unchained melody of God’s love plays on today. Because of Jesus, we can sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land. No matter how disheartened we may be by our society, by our surroundings, by our neighbors – we can still sing the Lord’s song, the unchained melody of God’s love, wherever God plants us.
For many of our neighbors need to hear the unchained Word of God, to hear the unchained melody of God’s love. In Jesus’ day it was lepers and Samaritans. Today the names are different, but there are those our society treats as lepers and Samaritans, people to be harassed, people to be shunned. Over the past few weeks, the names of a number of young people have been in the news: Tyler Clementi, Rutgers Univ. age 18, a talented violinist. Asher Brown, Houston, TX, age 13, an A student. Justin Aaberg, 15, Anoka, Minnesota, a cellist. Raymond Chase, 19, Rhode Island, a culinary student. Billy Lucas, Greensberg, Indiana, age 15, loved animals. Seth Walsh, age 13, Fresno, California, an aspiring artist. All young men, harassed, bullied, cyberstalked, most physically attacked for being gay – or for appearing to be gay – and driven to despair, to the extent that each one ended his life, five of them in the month of September alone. Tyler Clementi jumped off the George Washington Bridge. Asher Brown found his father’s gun and shot himself. Raymond Chase, hanged himself. Seth Walsh hanged himself, was found barely alive by his parents and died in the intensive care unit 9 days later. Justin Aaberg hanged himself. Billy Lucas hanged himself. Somewhere along the line, those who harassed and attacked these young men learned that what they were doing was ok. And somewhere along the line, these young men learned to hate themselves. Where did the young people learn these things? From their parents. From the wider society. From the media. And all too often, at church, as message of damnation from many churches spread their poison to a wider audience. We tell ourselves, sticks and stones may break our bones but names can never hurt us. But many who hear themselves called names, who hear words of hate day in and day out for years on end, give up hope of ever hearing anything else, give up hope of finding love and respect, eventually give up on life itself. For every person who kills himself or herself, many others have thoughts of giving up on life. Of those who don’t shoot themselves or hang themselves, some kill themselves slowly with alcohol and drugs, while others are walking wounded, struggling day in and day out with depression and anxiety. Words have the power to kill – and words have the power to heal. Many see the message of welcome and inclusion and respect offered by the United Church of Christ as pandering to political correctness. But to the extent that our church members – and their children – are taught to extend the love of Christ to all of those around us – male, female, black, white, rich, poor, gay, straight – it could make the difference between life and death for young – and even not-so-young - people struggling to find their way.
The unchained Word of God sustained the Jewish exiles through decades of exile in Babylon. The unchained Word of God healed ten lepers, and one of them was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he fell at Jesus feet to thank him. The unchained Word of God sustained Paul in his imprisonment. May we at Emanuel Church likewise be sustained, as individuals and as a congregation, by the unchained melody of God’s love in all our trials. And may we share that unchained melody of God’s love with our friends, our neighbors, our coworkers, all those living with depression and despair, all those searching for love. For we have this promise from Scripture:
If we have died with Christ, we will also live with Christ;
if we endure, we will also reign with Christ;
if we deny Christ, he will also deny us;
if we are faithless, Christ remains faithful—
for he cannot deny himself.
Christ remains faithful to us. May we at Emanuel Church remain faithful as well. Amen.
***************
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson). www.emanuelphila.org
Friday, October 8, 2010
Newsletter article: Bridesburg's Welfare, Emanuel's Welfare
“But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” Jeremiah 29:7
In October, we continue our Old Testament readings from the book of Jeremiah. Much of the book consists of Jeremiah’s prophesies of the impending destruction of Jerusalem and exile of Judah’s people to captivity in Babylon.
It is almost impossible to imagine the disorientation of those in exile, who were strangers in a strange land, separated from all they held dear. They went through what therapist Elizabeth Kubler-Ross has described as the five stages of grief, which can also be seen in a larger sense as stages of coming to terms with any kind of major life-changing event: denial (Jeremiah 23:16-17 speaks of false prophets who deny that harm will come to Judah), anger (from Psalm 137:9 - ‘O daughter Babylon, you devastator…happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against a rock!’), bargaining (in Jeremiah 28:3, false prophet Hananiah prophesied that within two years the exile would be over), depression, (from Psalm 137:1 - ‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.’). In the verse above, Jeremiah tries to lead the exiles to that final, most healthy stage of dealing with major change – acceptance. Jeremiah urged the exiles not only to accept their circumstances, but to seek the welfare of the city to which they had been exiled, and to pray for it. The time would eventually come when the exiles (or, more likely, their children and grandchildren) would return to Judah – but until then, the exiles’ welfare was inseparable from that of the city in which they now lived.
Many longtime church members may feel a sense of exile – an exile not of location, but of time. We remember when the “blue laws” mandated that stores and places of entertainment were closed on Sundays, when our church bustled with activity, when our pews were full, when we may have had multiple choirs and men’s and women’s fellowship groups, when every month brought several baptisms and our confirmation photos showed large classes of smiling youth. Likewise, we may cherish memories of a Bridesburg very different from that of the present. What happened? How could our church, our neighborhood, indeed, our whole society have changed so drastically? Will things ever be like they were again?
Jeremiah found it crucial to communicate that, although the pain and misery of the Babylonian exile was very real, and wouldn’t be ending anytime soon, God had not abandoned the exiles. Jeremiah told the exiles that, even with their world turned upside-down, God could say, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
In the same way, I believe God has plans for our welfare here at Emanuel, plans to give Emanuel Church a future with hope. But our welfare is inseparably tied to that of the neighborhood of Bridesburg and the city of Philadelphia in which God has planted us. We can’t close our church doors and lock our gates against the needs that surround us. We are called to seek the welfare of the city – to seek the welfare of our neighbors, to pray for them and stand with them in their trials. For in their welfare we will find our welfare.
In October, we continue our Old Testament readings from the book of Jeremiah. Much of the book consists of Jeremiah’s prophesies of the impending destruction of Jerusalem and exile of Judah’s people to captivity in Babylon.
It is almost impossible to imagine the disorientation of those in exile, who were strangers in a strange land, separated from all they held dear. They went through what therapist Elizabeth Kubler-Ross has described as the five stages of grief, which can also be seen in a larger sense as stages of coming to terms with any kind of major life-changing event: denial (Jeremiah 23:16-17 speaks of false prophets who deny that harm will come to Judah), anger (from Psalm 137:9 - ‘O daughter Babylon, you devastator…happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against a rock!’), bargaining (in Jeremiah 28:3, false prophet Hananiah prophesied that within two years the exile would be over), depression, (from Psalm 137:1 - ‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.’). In the verse above, Jeremiah tries to lead the exiles to that final, most healthy stage of dealing with major change – acceptance. Jeremiah urged the exiles not only to accept their circumstances, but to seek the welfare of the city to which they had been exiled, and to pray for it. The time would eventually come when the exiles (or, more likely, their children and grandchildren) would return to Judah – but until then, the exiles’ welfare was inseparable from that of the city in which they now lived.
Many longtime church members may feel a sense of exile – an exile not of location, but of time. We remember when the “blue laws” mandated that stores and places of entertainment were closed on Sundays, when our church bustled with activity, when our pews were full, when we may have had multiple choirs and men’s and women’s fellowship groups, when every month brought several baptisms and our confirmation photos showed large classes of smiling youth. Likewise, we may cherish memories of a Bridesburg very different from that of the present. What happened? How could our church, our neighborhood, indeed, our whole society have changed so drastically? Will things ever be like they were again?
Jeremiah found it crucial to communicate that, although the pain and misery of the Babylonian exile was very real, and wouldn’t be ending anytime soon, God had not abandoned the exiles. Jeremiah told the exiles that, even with their world turned upside-down, God could say, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
In the same way, I believe God has plans for our welfare here at Emanuel, plans to give Emanuel Church a future with hope. But our welfare is inseparably tied to that of the neighborhood of Bridesburg and the city of Philadelphia in which God has planted us. We can’t close our church doors and lock our gates against the needs that surround us. We are called to seek the welfare of the city – to seek the welfare of our neighbors, to pray for them and stand with them in their trials. For in their welfare we will find our welfare.
Unity in Christ
(Texts: Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4, Psalm 37,
2 Timothy 1:1-14, Luke 17:5-10)
October 3 was World Communion Sunday. Started by the Presbyterians in 1936, this Sunday in which Protestants of many denominations across the globe celebrate communion, has been embraced by a variety of Protestant traditions. (I’ll note that this isn’t a big deal in Catholic and Episcopal circles – they celebrate communion every Sunday, so in a sense for them, every Sunday is World Communion Sunday.) But on this one Sunday a year, we Protestants try to get our act together, to set aside our many differences and distinctions to gather together at the Lord’s table.
Our Old Testament reading this morning is from the book of Habakkuk, one of the so-called “minor prophets”, so named because of the length of the book, certainly not because of the importance. He prophesied in the years preceding the exile of Judah to Babylon, at roughly the same time as Jeremiah, whose writings have been the basis for some of our Old Testament readings in September, and to which we’ll return later in October.
The first sermon I remember hearing on this text was when I was a teenager, in the 1970’s. Our youth group was visiting Teen Challenge, a Christian drug and alcohol recovery program. The preacher linked the opening words of Habakkuk’s complaint of being surrounded by violence and injustice, to what was going on at the time – remember, in the 1970’s the Watergate hearings, that eventually led to President Nixon’s resignation, were dragging on and on. Our soldiers were bogged down in the Vietnam war. At home, there were oil shortages and lines and rationing of gasoline. Inflation was starting to pick up, so that peoples paychecks perpetually bought less and less. It seemed like the whole world was going crazy, spinning out of control. At that sermon I heard as a teen, it seemed like Habakkuk’s words were coming to life – destruction and violence all over the news, justice at best only partially prevailing. And Habakkuk’s complaint seemed right on point – “God, have you gone deaf, dumb, and blind? Can’t you see what a mess things are, how bad things have become? Can’t you hear the prayers of your faithful for deliverance from all this violence and corruption?” I can’t remember all the specifics of the sermon – I do remember him going on and on and on about wickedness in high places and corruption in the halls of justice - but the preacher hammered home the final verse of our reading today: no matter how bad things seem, ‘the righteous shall live by faith.’”
In some verses from Habakkuk not included in the lectionary reading, the prophet Habakkuk receives his answer from God: Judah is about to be overrun by the Chaldeans, and her people marched off to captivity in Babylon. And Habakkuk isn’t crazy about God’s answer. In fact, Habakkuk thinks that God’s answer itself is crazy – “why are you using a nation even more corrupt and more violent than we are, to punish us.” And that’s when we read about Habakkuk stationing himself on the ramparts, waiting for God’s reply to his complaint. And he hears God’s reply: “Write the vision, make it plain, so that a runner may read it.” Today God would likely have told Habakkuk to put his vision on a great big billboard, so people driving by on the highway can read it. For despite all that is going on around Habakkuk, God’s plans had not gone off course, that though the exile will indeed be harsh, God would ultimately punish Babylon and restore Judah. “For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.”
I believe it was in the spirit of “writing the vision, making it plain, even putting it on a billboard” that World Communion Sunday was created. For the 1930’s were a time of great hardship during the worldwide economic depression, and a time of great division, at home or abroad. Hitler had just come to power in Germany a few years earlier, and he was making over German society in his image. And the churches struggled to respond to all the economic dislocation and political disruption going on at that time. But the creators of World Communion Sunday had a vision that they wanted to make plain, like a human billboard – no matter how divided the churches were on matters of doctrine and practice, they could come together at the Lord’s table in communion.
The vision of World Communion Sunday marked the start of a new phase of cooperation between the Protestant churches. This is the cooperation that is lived out in missions such as Church World Service, supported by events such as the recent CROP walk. On a more local level, this vision of unity plays out in gatherings such as the Bridesburg Council of Churches. Though our congregations have many differences, yet we can come together in the name of Jesus Christ for worship of God and service to neighbor.
Coincidentally, the phrase “Make the vision plain” was used in 2006 as the name of the Penn Southeast Conference’s five-year plan for evangelism and church revitalization. This plan called for greater cooperation and greater unity among the churches of the Penn Southeast Conference, and greater cooperation and unity between local congregations and their local associations and the conference. The local churches could no longer go it alone in today’s society. There was a recognition that the churches of our conference had to share ideas and pull resources together if we were going to survive. 2011 will be the five-year mark, and the vision is becoming plain, with new churches joining the UCC and established congregations learning new ways to share the Gospel with their friends and neighbors.
We at Emanuel, we, too, are called to make the vision plain. We too are called to faithfully stand our watch, to faithfully station ourselves on the rampart, awaiting God’s word, as we do here each Sunday, sometimes with many guests in attendance and other times with only a handful of our own members. We cannot leave our post – we must stand our watch, station ourselves on the rampart. We too are called to write the vision, and speak the vision, and sing the vision, and email the vision, and blog the vision, and Facebook the vision – to make plain the vision of the Good News of Jesus Christ. We’re called to make it plain, like a billboard, so big and so obvious that nobody could miss it. For Emanuel Church is to act as a great big billboard, a great big neon sign, pointing to Jesus.
The vision Habakkuk received did not avert the exile to Babylon, but pointed to something better on the other side of that calamity. The vision of unity created by World Communion Sunday, the vision of greater cooperation among the churches of the Pennsylvania Southeast conference, our own efforts to make plain the vision of the Gospel, likely will not make an instantaneous change in our circumstances – but it may change the way we see our circumstances – not as a final word of doom, but as a difficult road we need to walk with Jesus, on the way to something better. I’ll close with these words from the 3rd chapter of Habakkuk, which we can use as a prayer in difficult times:
Habakkuk 3:17
Though the fig tree does not blossom,
and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails
and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold
and there is no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will exult in the God of my salvation.
Amen.
***********
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson) www.emanuelphila.org
2 Timothy 1:1-14, Luke 17:5-10)
October 3 was World Communion Sunday. Started by the Presbyterians in 1936, this Sunday in which Protestants of many denominations across the globe celebrate communion, has been embraced by a variety of Protestant traditions. (I’ll note that this isn’t a big deal in Catholic and Episcopal circles – they celebrate communion every Sunday, so in a sense for them, every Sunday is World Communion Sunday.) But on this one Sunday a year, we Protestants try to get our act together, to set aside our many differences and distinctions to gather together at the Lord’s table.
Our Old Testament reading this morning is from the book of Habakkuk, one of the so-called “minor prophets”, so named because of the length of the book, certainly not because of the importance. He prophesied in the years preceding the exile of Judah to Babylon, at roughly the same time as Jeremiah, whose writings have been the basis for some of our Old Testament readings in September, and to which we’ll return later in October.
The first sermon I remember hearing on this text was when I was a teenager, in the 1970’s. Our youth group was visiting Teen Challenge, a Christian drug and alcohol recovery program. The preacher linked the opening words of Habakkuk’s complaint of being surrounded by violence and injustice, to what was going on at the time – remember, in the 1970’s the Watergate hearings, that eventually led to President Nixon’s resignation, were dragging on and on. Our soldiers were bogged down in the Vietnam war. At home, there were oil shortages and lines and rationing of gasoline. Inflation was starting to pick up, so that peoples paychecks perpetually bought less and less. It seemed like the whole world was going crazy, spinning out of control. At that sermon I heard as a teen, it seemed like Habakkuk’s words were coming to life – destruction and violence all over the news, justice at best only partially prevailing. And Habakkuk’s complaint seemed right on point – “God, have you gone deaf, dumb, and blind? Can’t you see what a mess things are, how bad things have become? Can’t you hear the prayers of your faithful for deliverance from all this violence and corruption?” I can’t remember all the specifics of the sermon – I do remember him going on and on and on about wickedness in high places and corruption in the halls of justice - but the preacher hammered home the final verse of our reading today: no matter how bad things seem, ‘the righteous shall live by faith.’”
In some verses from Habakkuk not included in the lectionary reading, the prophet Habakkuk receives his answer from God: Judah is about to be overrun by the Chaldeans, and her people marched off to captivity in Babylon. And Habakkuk isn’t crazy about God’s answer. In fact, Habakkuk thinks that God’s answer itself is crazy – “why are you using a nation even more corrupt and more violent than we are, to punish us.” And that’s when we read about Habakkuk stationing himself on the ramparts, waiting for God’s reply to his complaint. And he hears God’s reply: “Write the vision, make it plain, so that a runner may read it.” Today God would likely have told Habakkuk to put his vision on a great big billboard, so people driving by on the highway can read it. For despite all that is going on around Habakkuk, God’s plans had not gone off course, that though the exile will indeed be harsh, God would ultimately punish Babylon and restore Judah. “For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.”
I believe it was in the spirit of “writing the vision, making it plain, even putting it on a billboard” that World Communion Sunday was created. For the 1930’s were a time of great hardship during the worldwide economic depression, and a time of great division, at home or abroad. Hitler had just come to power in Germany a few years earlier, and he was making over German society in his image. And the churches struggled to respond to all the economic dislocation and political disruption going on at that time. But the creators of World Communion Sunday had a vision that they wanted to make plain, like a human billboard – no matter how divided the churches were on matters of doctrine and practice, they could come together at the Lord’s table in communion.
The vision of World Communion Sunday marked the start of a new phase of cooperation between the Protestant churches. This is the cooperation that is lived out in missions such as Church World Service, supported by events such as the recent CROP walk. On a more local level, this vision of unity plays out in gatherings such as the Bridesburg Council of Churches. Though our congregations have many differences, yet we can come together in the name of Jesus Christ for worship of God and service to neighbor.
Coincidentally, the phrase “Make the vision plain” was used in 2006 as the name of the Penn Southeast Conference’s five-year plan for evangelism and church revitalization. This plan called for greater cooperation and greater unity among the churches of the Penn Southeast Conference, and greater cooperation and unity between local congregations and their local associations and the conference. The local churches could no longer go it alone in today’s society. There was a recognition that the churches of our conference had to share ideas and pull resources together if we were going to survive. 2011 will be the five-year mark, and the vision is becoming plain, with new churches joining the UCC and established congregations learning new ways to share the Gospel with their friends and neighbors.
We at Emanuel, we, too, are called to make the vision plain. We too are called to faithfully stand our watch, to faithfully station ourselves on the rampart, awaiting God’s word, as we do here each Sunday, sometimes with many guests in attendance and other times with only a handful of our own members. We cannot leave our post – we must stand our watch, station ourselves on the rampart. We too are called to write the vision, and speak the vision, and sing the vision, and email the vision, and blog the vision, and Facebook the vision – to make plain the vision of the Good News of Jesus Christ. We’re called to make it plain, like a billboard, so big and so obvious that nobody could miss it. For Emanuel Church is to act as a great big billboard, a great big neon sign, pointing to Jesus.
The vision Habakkuk received did not avert the exile to Babylon, but pointed to something better on the other side of that calamity. The vision of unity created by World Communion Sunday, the vision of greater cooperation among the churches of the Pennsylvania Southeast conference, our own efforts to make plain the vision of the Gospel, likely will not make an instantaneous change in our circumstances – but it may change the way we see our circumstances – not as a final word of doom, but as a difficult road we need to walk with Jesus, on the way to something better. I’ll close with these words from the 3rd chapter of Habakkuk, which we can use as a prayer in difficult times:
Habakkuk 3:17
Though the fig tree does not blossom,
and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails
and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold
and there is no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will exult in the God of my salvation.
Amen.
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Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson) www.emanuelphila.org
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