Sunday, July 6, 2014

A Declaration of Interdependence


(Scriptures: Genesis 24:34-67; Psalm 145,  I Corinthians 12:1-31,  Matthew 11:16-30)
 
 
A Declaration of Interdependence
 
As a lifelong member of the United Church of Christ – the UCC for short – I’ve heard folks outside our denomination give us lots of nicknames based on the initials UCC.  The one I heard most frequently growing up was “Utterly Confused Christians”.  Some of this was just people being jerky.  But besides that, there was also a sense that, for example, Catholics follow what the pope says, Lutherans follow what Martin Luther wrote, and Methodists follow what John Wesley wrote – but, since the United Church of Christ is a merger of the Evangelical & Reformed Church, based mostly in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and the Midwest –wherever Germans settled – with the Congregational Christian churches – founded by the Puritans and Pilgrims, and based mostly in New England – we draw from a variety of traditions and teachers, and so while we from the Reformed side of the denomination draw heavily on the teachings of Ulrich Zwingli, other parts of the denomination draw from John Calvin and from other Reformers….and these teachings, while broadly similar, also have some differences.   And so while I think that, within the denomination, we understand one another, to those outside the denomination, we can indeed at times seem utterly confused – or at least act in ways that are utterly confusing to them.
 
Another nickname I’ve heard from time to time is “Untied Church of Christ.  This one is easy to understand – if you’re typing quickly and transpose the “I” and “T”, the word United turns into Untied.  The United Methodist Church can get a similar rap, sometimes being characterized as the Untied Methodist Church.  But, beyond typographical errors, the label “Untied” can lead us to ask some serious questions.  Again, comparing to other denominations, the Catholics are united by allegiance to the Pope, the Anglicans to the Archbishop of Canterbury; Lutherans and Methodists have bishops; Presbyterian churches are organized into Synods with their own governing boards.  But while the UCC does have a denominational structure, based on the concept of covenant, in our denomination, local churches have much more autonomy than in many other denominations – and also much more responsibility to clean up any messes that result.  Churches have much more space to “go it alone” – not unlimited space, but more than in some other traditions.  To Christians used to denominations with more rigid, hierarchical structures, the UCC can feel a bit untied at times, like a loose confederation of individual Christian churches rather than a United Church of Christ. 
 
In our reading from I Corinthians, the apostle Paul is writing to a church he planted in the city of Corinth – a city which I visited on my recent vacation – and this church, which was united when Paul was among them, is now in danger of becoming untied.   Corinth was located along major trading routes, and was also a center for the manufacture of pottery….and so it was considered a relatively cosmopolitan city for its time.  It was also a relatively prosperous city, but the prosperity was not evenly shared, and so there were very rich and very poor.  The church at Corinth was divided among a number of fault lines – between rich and poor, between Jew and Gentile, and also between those who identified as followers of Paul vs followers of other teachers, such as Apollos and other leaders who came along later – some of whom did more harm than good.  Still other divisions existed between those who had particularly flashy gifts, such as speaking in tongues, vs those whose gifts were perhaps even more important to the function of the church, but didn’t have as much pizzazz.  In short, the church at Corinth was dysfunction junction.
 
In attempting to heal these divisions, Paul reminded them that they were all members of the body of Christ, all equally important to the body’s proper functioning.  Now we all know that the human body has some parts that are lovely to look at and others that are not so much, some parts we allow everyone to see and some parts we only allow those closest to us to see, and the body has some parts that are downright embarrassing.  But, Paul reminds them, whether one’s role in the body of Christ is that of being an eye or an ear or a nose – or, we could go on to say, that of being a toenail or a nose hair or a sinus or a sweat gland or an armpit – we all have a function.  No matter how seemingly insignificant our part may seem, when we function as we are called, the body is strengthened, and when we go AWOL, the body is weakened.
 
While our reading from Genesis took place of course centuries or even millenia before Christ’s earthly ministry,  we can see how important seemingly lowly service can be to the working out of God’s ways.  Our reading from Genesis gives us an absolutely lovely story of the coming together of Isaac, the son of Abraham, with his wife Rebekah.  The story reads like a match made in heaven – but Abraham’s trusted servant was in the background, making all sorts of arrangements in order to bring Rebekah and Isaac together…and as Abraham’s servant is working away, you might think of the song, “Matchmaker matchmaker make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch….”.  Had the servant gone AWOL, Isaac and Rebekah might still have come together, but it would be a very different story under very different circumstances.  And so the servant’s role, however lowly, is absolutely crucial to how the story played out.  In the same way, our individual roles in the body of Christ, be they ever so humble, are crucial to the way the body of Christ functions.
 
Families can come untied….as the twin sons of Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Esau, became untied from one another, viewing each other as enemies for much of their lives  Churches can become untied as well.  And so can communities, even countries.  On this July 4 weekend, when we celebrate our nation’s independence from British rule, I have to say that, given the degree of political division in our country, one might wonder if we should rename ourselves the Untied States of America.  It goes without saying that we have sharp divisions between liberals and conservatives.  We have regional divisions – the old wounds of the American Civil War some 150 years ago still haven’t entirely healed.  We have divisions between rich and poor, racial divisions, divisions between native-born and immigrant – or, more accurately in most cases, between those whose families immigrated recently vs those whose families immigrations took place several generations ago, in the more distant past.  Our state of Pennsylvania has sharp divisions between urban and rural areas – political consultant James Carville famously characterized Pennsylvania as having Philadelphia on one end and Pittsburgh on the other end and Alabama in the middle.  Those city vs suburb vs rural divisions routinely create complications in the ministries of the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference, as many folks from the ‘burbs or the boonies are afraid to drive into Philadelphia, lest their cars be stolen and their wallets stolen and their persons violated, and many from our city churches either can’t drive to the suburbs, let alone farm country, because they don’t have cars, or they don’t want to drive to the suburbs or rural areas because they’re afraid they’ll have targets on their backs because of their skin color.  And I feel these divisions too.  I grew up in what Jim Carville called the Alabama part of the state, in a very rural area – Hamburg, Pennsylvania, at that time population 3,000 or so if you count the chickens and cows along with the people -  but for the past 30 years have spent most of my time in or near the city of Philadelphia.   And I’m comfortable here.   As beautiful to look at as my home area is, I don’t get back to farm country much, and there are reasons for that.
 
Certainly as human beings we’re going to be more comfortable with some people and in some situations than others.  But when we say of someone else, “I have no need of him or her”, then our society starts to become untied.   As it’s becoming untied in Detroit, where roughly half of Detroit residents, because of inability to pay their bills, are threatened with having their water shut off – and the shutoffs are coming neighborhood by neighborhood, some 3,000 households a week.[1]  What happens to a city when nearly half the residents have no access to safe drinking water?  When America’s auto industry was booming, we had plenty need of Detroit then, but now we’re quick to say to the residents of Detroit, “I have no need of you.”  Or, closer to home, as our country has also said “I have no need of you” to large sections of Camden, NJ, once a center of manufacture but now in many neighborhoods an urban wasteland, where the drug trade and the scavenging of scrap metal are the two major sources of cash.  Or as our country has said, “I have no need of you” to any number of Philadelphia neighborhoods that were once humming with industrial activity, until the industrial jobs went overseas.  Or, looking very close to home indeed, when churches band together to feed poor residents of Port Richmond and Bridesburg, and neighbors object to the food cupboard, might not those neighbors be telling those getting help at the cupboard, “I have no need of you.”
 
We Americans have taken our historical declaration of Independence from Britain very much to heart.  We’re very individualistic, looking at policies in terms of how they affect ourselves or perhaps our immediate families, with much less consideration to how they affect those further from us.  But while we are indeed independent from Great Britain, our Scripture reading today reminds us that we are dependent on God, and interdependent – that is to say, mutually dependent - on one another.  What we do affects others, and what others do affects us. 
 
Our Gospel reading today goes off in several different directions, but it ends with Jesus inviting us,  “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."  We might well wonder, looking at Jesus’ life, how he could call his burden light.  I would say that the burden is light because Jesus is helping carry it.  To live in isolation apart from Christ and community is to carry a heavy burden indeed, and we inevitably end up carrying burdens we were never meant to carry.  But to live in community – to live as part of the body of Christ, with Jesus at the head – is to carry the burden we were intended to carry, to live as we were intended to live.
 
“Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it,” Paul wrote.  May we at Emanuel Church live as those connected to Christ and one another, and reach out in love to those who are not yet part of the body with words of good news and deeds of love.  Amen.


[1] http://www.theguardian.com/environment/true-north/2014/jun/25/detroits-water-war-a-tap-shut-off-that-could-impact-300000-people
 

      

Altars (Pastor's message from Emanuel UCC's July, 2014 newsletter)

Dear Emanuel Members and Friends –

 

“Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, ‘Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’  What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.’”  Acts 17:22-23

 

During my vacation at the end of June, I spent a week in Greece.  I stayed in Athens and took day trips to several places, including ancient Corinth (where Paul established a church, to which he wrote in I and II Corinthians) and Delphi, the “navel of the cosmos” (at Delphi there’s actually a carved stone navel, shaped like an egg!!) and center of worship of the Greek pantheon, where the “Oracle at Delphi” was said to foretell the future.  I also saw the Acropolis, the center of worship of the Greek gods in the city of Athens, located at the highest point of the city.  Just west of the Acropolis was the Areopagus, a hill on which the leaders of Athens met for their deliberations. 

 

On his visit to Athens nearly 2,000 years ago, Paul had been upset by the many idols he found in Athens (remains of which can be seen there to this day) and began proclaiming Jesus and the resurrection out in the marketplaces (the remains of which can also be seen to this day).  Some of the leaders of Athens invited Paul to the Areopagus to explain his beliefs in more detail.  Previously, as he had walked around Athens, Paul had noticed an altar with an inscription, “To an unknown god.” (Presumably the Athenians were trying to cover all their bases and not accidentally omit any minor deities or demigods from their devotions.)  This altar gave Paul an opportunity to explain his belief in the one God who created all things, and in Jesus Christ and the resurrection from the dead.  

 

Because the ancient Greeks left behind so many buildings and statues and stone inscriptions, it’s possible to learn a great deal about ancient Greek society and beliefs, and about daily life in ancient Greece.  One can learn what ideas and values were important to the ancient Greeks. While we readily dismiss the pantheon of Greek gods as human myths and inventions, they are evidence of a profound respect the ancient Greeks held for the forces of nature and for the created world.

 

As I marveled at the buildings and artifacts left behind by the ancient Greeks – and they are truly wonders to behold - I began to ponder what artifacts our society will leave behind, and what coming generations will learn about us.  We no longer worship Ares, the Greek god of war, but will our arsenals of weapons continue to proclaim to coming generations our society’s costly devotion to war and destruction?  Will our city’s crumbling schools, roads, bridges, and railways continue to proclaim our society’s neglect for the needs of the poorest among us?   Will accelerating environmental devastation continue to proclaim the triumph of human greed over the long-term human need for a healthy planet and respect for God’s creation?  

 

What will coming generations learn about the Christian church?  Will we go along with our society, giving lip service to the Gospel while offering our most heartfelt devotion and our costliest sacrifices at the altars of war and greed?  Or will coming generations learn that Christians proclaimed a different message, a message about God’s call for reconciliation instead of war, for generosity instead of greed, for life instead of death?  Will our churches become “altars to an unknown god”, or will the gospel of Jesus Christ continue to transform future generation with the good news of God’s reign in our midst?

 

Paul wrote to the ancient church at Corinth, “For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, the work of each builder will become visible…because it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each has done.”  (I Corinthians 3:12-13).   May all that we do and all that we are proclaim to future generations the good news of God’s love as proclaimed by Jesus Christ, who lived and taught and died and rose from the dead so that we may live abundantly in this world, and eternally in the world to come.   

 

See you in church! - Pastor Dave

One (A Sermon for Trinity Sunday)


(Scriptures:  Genesis 1:1 – 2:4a, Psalm 8, 
                      2 Corinthians 13:11-13,  Matthew 28:16-20)
 
 
 
       
Today is Trinity Sunday, when our church calendar reminds us of God as Trinity….Father, Son, Holy Spirit.  Last week was Pentecost, when we remembered the coming of the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, the Comforter and Advocate promised by God who formed the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth into the church, the Holy Spirit who transformed Peter from a guy who couldn’t open his mouth without putting his foot into it all the way up to his kneecap, into a guy who preached a sermon that brought some 3000 people to faith in Jesus Christ.
 
Our reading from Genesis brings us back to God the Father, God the Parent, the creator of all things.   This passage is actually one of two versions of the creation account in Genesis – the other begins with Genesis 2:4…this is the version with the woman being formed from Adam’s rib and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  But that’s not the one we’re reading today, though I’ll be referring to it from time to time.
 
Certainly, in fundamentalist circles, the creation accounts are controversial, as they would seem to conflict with scientific knowledge about the age of the earth and such.  However, to read Genesis 1 as a science book is, I think, to miss the point of what it’s telling us.  Genesis chapter 1 has a literary, almost poetic quality to it.  It begins with a description of darkness and a formless void – the Hebrew for this is tohu wabohu...the sense of the Hebrew phrase is sort of like our phrase higgledy piggledy or helter skelter or topsy turvy.  And then in the midst of this darkness and higgledy piggledy and helter skelter and topsy turvy, God speaks the creation into being.  Each step of creation begins with the words “And God said…” and then the aspect of creation is described, and then the step of creation ends with the words, “And God saw that it was good.  And there was evening and there was morning, the first day” or second or third and so forth.  At the end of creation, we’re told, “And God saw that it was very good.  And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.” 
 
Why was this story included in Hebrew Scripture, and eventually in our Bible?  When we talk about our beginnings, it’s generally in order to remind ourselves who we are.  For example, in America we have the stories of our country’s founding, and well over 200 years later, those stories still resonate with us.  Our church, Emanuel Church, has its history – we remember that we started out with $9 in the bank; we particularly remember Emanuel Boehringer, one of our early pastors, who started what eventually became Bethany Children’s Home in order to care for children orphaned by the Civil War.  And those stories live on, and remind us who we are.  Ancient civilizations also had stories of their beginnings.  The Babylonian creation story, Enuma Elish, speaks of the cosmos beginning with combat between various gods, of which Marduk eventually emerged victorious.  After conquering the other gods, so the Babylonian story goes, Marduk created the earth out of the corpse of one of the gods he conquered.   And so, for the Babylonians, creation was violent from its earliest beginnings, and violence is to be expected as a part of life.   By contrast, in Greek creation mythology, creation was the result, not of gods fighting, but of gods mating.  And people living with the Greek creation myths would see the world and themselves very differently from, for example, the Babylonians.
 
The Genesis account is so different.  There are no battles between gods to be won or lost, nor gods and goddesses wooing and winning one another…just our God, our one God, beginning with darkness and higgledy-piggledy, helter skelter and topsy turvy and methodically, peacefully shaping creation, bringing order out of chaos, and proclaiming each aspect of creation to be “good.”  And then the story goes on to tell us that humans were created in God’s image and given dominion over all the animals, told to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the earth and subdue it, and given every green plant for food.  What does this account tell us about the world and about ourselves?  Several things – that we did not just arrive by happenstance, but are here purposefully….and that, at least in the beginning, humans and everything else were considered by God to be “good…..very good.”
 
This account also tells us place of human beings in the order of things – definitely not God, but created in God’s image, which is said about nothing else in all creation – and that we’ve been given dominion over all the earth, to fill the earth and subdue it.  It is this last piece, I think, that has gotten us into trouble.  In our sinfulness humans have interpreted Genesis 1:28 as a license to beat creation into submission, to exploit and destroy what God called “very good” for our own short-term benefit.  And of course, it goes without saying that humans beat into submission and exploit not only the creation, but one another.  But this isn’t what God intended.  God didn’t intend for humans to pillage creation, but to be good stewards of creation.  This comes out more clearly in the other version of the creation story in Genesis 2, in which God puts man in the garden to till it and keep it – basically, to tend God’s garden.  Instead, too often, in the words of the song, we’ve paved paradise and put up a parking lot. 
 
All that’s the bad news..and there’s a lot of it.  As resilient has the creation is, it appears this resilience has limits that we’re bumping up against.   The good news of the Gospel is that, as much as we mess up, God doesn’t abandon us.  On this Trinity Sunday, the good news is that the God who created all things is the God who, through the saving work of Jesus Christ, redeemed us, and through the work of the Holy Spirit sustains us.  Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer – these three are the work of our Triune God.  And the God who creates, redeems, and sustains us is the God who cares not only about us, but about the environment, about the world we live in.
 
Trinitarian theology speaks of God as creator, redeemer, and sustainer – but it does more.  It speaks of God, not only as functioning in three roles, but as existing in three persons – Father, Son, Holy Spirit – in the words of our first hymn, “God in three persons, blessed trinity”.   These three persons within the one God are said to exist in a constant dance of self-giving love, each to the others – a dance of self-giving love to which Jesus invites us.   
 
And it’s a dance of self-giving love to which we are to invite others.  In our brief Gospel lesson today, Jesus tells his followers to go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey all that Jesus taught.  All are invited into the self-giving life that Jesus modeled.
 
So on this Trinity Sunday, and particularly in reference to our reading from Genesis, I’d invite us to remember – to remember who God is – a self-giving God who creates, redeems, and sustains us and all creation – and who we are, humans created from the dust, and yet somehow created in God’s image.  And not just us, but everyone we meet, the people we love and the people we can’t stand to be in the same room with, are all created in God’s image, all called to lives of self-giving love to one another, all called to give loving care to God’s creation, to tend God’s garden.  May God open our eyes to ways in which we can live all of this out more faithfully here in Bridesburg, the particular garden spot where God has planted us.  Amen.