Mission -- An Identity Crisis
Sermon
No Post-Easter Slump
Gospel Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (First Third)
The church, that is, the ekklesia, the called out ones, has taken some hard knocks both from its friends within and its foes without, from chilly indifference inside and arrogant cynicism outside. All kinds of people have condemned it for its navel-gazing, and its lack of concern for the world. Some years ago in Russia, two meetings took place simultaneously. In one, a group of Marxists discussed how they could overturn the world. In the other, which took place only a few doors away, a group of Christians fervently debated the color of their church's choir robes. Despite its preoccupation with trivia, the church still stands, perhaps healthier than for many years. For today, the church, despite its near asphyxiation during the 1950s, that part of it possessed by Holy Spirit, takes the world seriously. It's true, the church, some of it, continues to make a fool of itself; but thank God, the church, some of it, has moved from a fool to an asset. Yes, it still stumbles, bumbles, mumbles, tumbles, as it seeks to grasp its purpose in a world changing with every sunrise. T. S. Eliot once described the church as a "fat hippopotamus resting on its belly in the mud." But no longer is it quite so fat in the belly, or so flat in the mud. The church, some of it, has begun to arouse from its slumber, to wake from its sleep, and to shake off its sluggishness. Here, in capsule form, summarizes what has begun to happen: "A realization, an awareness that God has called the ekklesia from the world, to the institution, to send it back into the world."
I
In the past, some have lopped off the last part of the formula. Some think that God calls people from the world into the church, period; even as some parents bring a child into their home, but who never permit the child to leave home emotionally. In a family counseling session, the mother of her 32-year-old son and his wife stated bluntly and arrogantly, "What you do is our business."
When we hole ourselves up in the activities of the church institution, when we pull out of the world, or refuse to enter it in the first place, we are heretics. If we become so preoccupied with the institution by insisting on fancy buildings, to impress the community; bigger and better budgets, to buy spiritual services; popular preachers, to tickle our fancies; a multiplicity of clubs and organizations, to fulfill our social and recreational needs; and a music director, with choirs for every age -- if we become so enamored with these, we may never hear, with our heart and will, the Great Commission.
These criteria, too often, have become our guidelines for defining the "successful church." We can easily sacrifice quality for quantity. And when this happens, church rolls balloon, buildings and mortgages skyrocket. Persons who consider themselves fine, respectable, white Americans sign the dotted line, missing the whole point that God expects a change of heart, and will, and purpose, and pocketbook in the lives of God's people. And the commission of Christ to his disciples, then and now, gets lost in the shuffle, gets buried in institutional paraphernalia, busyness, popularity, trivia.
II
Today, with some, the image has changed. The church has begun to move back into the world with Christ's message of reconciliation, with an urgent involvement in the world to which God sent Jesus. We recall that good old First Church of Jerusalem in 66 A.D. died because it had attached itself to Jewish rites, and contented itself by remaining a Jewish sect. No doubt, parish activities were going full tilt; but the church was dead in its relation to God. It discovered, as many churches have since, that a congregation, or an individual Christian, which no longer moves out in the Spirit of Christ, literally passes out in the spirit of death.
When Christ calls us Christians to "go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," Christ insists that we invade every sphere of life, beginning with the family next door, and extending into the realms of politics, economics, environment, recreation, credit-buying, and overindulging. We Christians have no options, though we like to think that we do. Edwin T. Dalberg, formerly with the National Council of Churches, said a long time ago, "Too many of us have become Fifth-Amendment Christians. We are refusing to be witnesses for our Lord and declining to testify for Christ lest we incriminate ourselves, and become too much involved with the Kingdom of God and the Cross of Calvary."
Unfortunately, some of us have engaged in reversed-evangelism. We have demanded that the church cater to our whims, agree with our ideas; and when that doesn't happen, we quit outright, or become Christmas-Easter members. We give God the leftovers after indulging ourselves in the latest gadgets and newest models. We ignore our opportunities for the good witness. We criticize everything that we don't like; and we think that we have fulfilled our responsibility to Christ and the world. So, when Christ calls us to go back into the world, we refuse to go, when actually, we need to refuel to go.
III
So, how do we go back into the world as a congregation, as individual Christians? First, we need to accept the fact that we already are in all the world, about 167 hours per week. In the world, we have multitudes of opportunities to witness.
A. As a congregation, for example, have we ever dared to tackle a job too big for us? Do we dare, do we even dare to think of attempting a job so great that we might go under as a congregation? Are we willing to set our mission at fifty percent of our total income, and pay it before any local bills, including the pastor's salary? Are we more concerned about the world out there than we are about ourselves in here? Would it hurt us to sit in a cold, unlit sanctuary, even for one Sunday, to remind us of the millions who spend their entire lives in the cold and dark? Would it ruin our security and comfort to let our relatives and neighbors know that the church has top priority in our lives? One pastor's parents informed their relatives that if they came to visit on Sunday morning, they could sit in the driveway, or come to worship with them. Would this congregation survive if, for one year, we had no pastor in order to free that money for world mission? Would we damage our reputation if we closed the church school to our own children, so that children of nonmembers could use the space? Are we willing to dream dreams about what the church might do to be the church in mission?
B. As individual Christians, how much do we care about the world, the immediate community, which has no relation to Christ and the church? Do we care about the lonely, frightened people around us who cover their loneliness and fear with their masks of false superiority and clever dishonesty; or by owning everything that money can buy; or by excelling at everything they do, because they can't stand to fail? Will we, to whom God has given the greatest news of all time, share that news with people with whom we play cards, go on picnics, attend movies, have barbecues, and talk about everything under the sun, except our friendship with Christ?
One congregation uniquely uses the "potluck suppers," not family potlucks in the church building, but suppers in homes. Invitations to the neighbors, some church-related, some not, to come in for supper, and to have a wide-open discussion on religion, or any related topic, has met with a fine response. The church members found that "outsiders" in the neighborhood were waiting for an opportunity to have this kind of fellowship, so different from the superficiality of the cocktail party, or the after-worship coffee hour. Are we willing to "go into the world" in this sense? These neighbors of ours may never know that "God cared enough to send the very best," unless and until we, God's people, first demonstrate by word and deed, that we care enough to be the very best that God sent. Presbyterians, many years ago, coined the phrase,"Friendship Evangelism." Too often, we have emphasized friendship without evangelism.
We learn to care, to show compassion, only as we expose ourselves to each other in some degree of depth. We learn to care, not by standing on the sidelines and throwing rocks, but by sharing ourselves with one another. We learn to care when we know that other Christians care about us, as we are, with no strings attached.
In a cartoon, a doctor refers to his patient as a "gall bladder in 909." That description, of course, dehumanizes his patient. Christ calls us to trust each other as persons, literally, as though we are the other, not that nasty person down the street, but that person who hurts so badly she can relate to no one; not that sour-joe at the office, but that person whose wife just left him; not that alcoholic on skid row, but that person whose life has crashed on the rocks; not that obnoxious spouse of ours, but that person who first must learn how to relate in our quirks.
Christ's mission, and therefore ours, is to these -- not to criticize, castigate, clobber, condemn, but to console, comfort, confront, counsel.When we accept Christ's mission as ours, as Christ's mission through us, then, we begin to understand Christ's commission to "go into all the world" for his sake, for the world's sake, and yes, for our sake also.
From the world to the church back into the world. Go into all the world, knowing that our greatest witness is our deepest relationship of love. That is the church in action. That is the church in mission. That's where we are. That's who we are, for Christ's sake, under Christ's direction, in Christ's power.
I
In the past, some have lopped off the last part of the formula. Some think that God calls people from the world into the church, period; even as some parents bring a child into their home, but who never permit the child to leave home emotionally. In a family counseling session, the mother of her 32-year-old son and his wife stated bluntly and arrogantly, "What you do is our business."
When we hole ourselves up in the activities of the church institution, when we pull out of the world, or refuse to enter it in the first place, we are heretics. If we become so preoccupied with the institution by insisting on fancy buildings, to impress the community; bigger and better budgets, to buy spiritual services; popular preachers, to tickle our fancies; a multiplicity of clubs and organizations, to fulfill our social and recreational needs; and a music director, with choirs for every age -- if we become so enamored with these, we may never hear, with our heart and will, the Great Commission.
These criteria, too often, have become our guidelines for defining the "successful church." We can easily sacrifice quality for quantity. And when this happens, church rolls balloon, buildings and mortgages skyrocket. Persons who consider themselves fine, respectable, white Americans sign the dotted line, missing the whole point that God expects a change of heart, and will, and purpose, and pocketbook in the lives of God's people. And the commission of Christ to his disciples, then and now, gets lost in the shuffle, gets buried in institutional paraphernalia, busyness, popularity, trivia.
II
Today, with some, the image has changed. The church has begun to move back into the world with Christ's message of reconciliation, with an urgent involvement in the world to which God sent Jesus. We recall that good old First Church of Jerusalem in 66 A.D. died because it had attached itself to Jewish rites, and contented itself by remaining a Jewish sect. No doubt, parish activities were going full tilt; but the church was dead in its relation to God. It discovered, as many churches have since, that a congregation, or an individual Christian, which no longer moves out in the Spirit of Christ, literally passes out in the spirit of death.
When Christ calls us Christians to "go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," Christ insists that we invade every sphere of life, beginning with the family next door, and extending into the realms of politics, economics, environment, recreation, credit-buying, and overindulging. We Christians have no options, though we like to think that we do. Edwin T. Dalberg, formerly with the National Council of Churches, said a long time ago, "Too many of us have become Fifth-Amendment Christians. We are refusing to be witnesses for our Lord and declining to testify for Christ lest we incriminate ourselves, and become too much involved with the Kingdom of God and the Cross of Calvary."
Unfortunately, some of us have engaged in reversed-evangelism. We have demanded that the church cater to our whims, agree with our ideas; and when that doesn't happen, we quit outright, or become Christmas-Easter members. We give God the leftovers after indulging ourselves in the latest gadgets and newest models. We ignore our opportunities for the good witness. We criticize everything that we don't like; and we think that we have fulfilled our responsibility to Christ and the world. So, when Christ calls us to go back into the world, we refuse to go, when actually, we need to refuel to go.
III
So, how do we go back into the world as a congregation, as individual Christians? First, we need to accept the fact that we already are in all the world, about 167 hours per week. In the world, we have multitudes of opportunities to witness.
A. As a congregation, for example, have we ever dared to tackle a job too big for us? Do we dare, do we even dare to think of attempting a job so great that we might go under as a congregation? Are we willing to set our mission at fifty percent of our total income, and pay it before any local bills, including the pastor's salary? Are we more concerned about the world out there than we are about ourselves in here? Would it hurt us to sit in a cold, unlit sanctuary, even for one Sunday, to remind us of the millions who spend their entire lives in the cold and dark? Would it ruin our security and comfort to let our relatives and neighbors know that the church has top priority in our lives? One pastor's parents informed their relatives that if they came to visit on Sunday morning, they could sit in the driveway, or come to worship with them. Would this congregation survive if, for one year, we had no pastor in order to free that money for world mission? Would we damage our reputation if we closed the church school to our own children, so that children of nonmembers could use the space? Are we willing to dream dreams about what the church might do to be the church in mission?
B. As individual Christians, how much do we care about the world, the immediate community, which has no relation to Christ and the church? Do we care about the lonely, frightened people around us who cover their loneliness and fear with their masks of false superiority and clever dishonesty; or by owning everything that money can buy; or by excelling at everything they do, because they can't stand to fail? Will we, to whom God has given the greatest news of all time, share that news with people with whom we play cards, go on picnics, attend movies, have barbecues, and talk about everything under the sun, except our friendship with Christ?
One congregation uniquely uses the "potluck suppers," not family potlucks in the church building, but suppers in homes. Invitations to the neighbors, some church-related, some not, to come in for supper, and to have a wide-open discussion on religion, or any related topic, has met with a fine response. The church members found that "outsiders" in the neighborhood were waiting for an opportunity to have this kind of fellowship, so different from the superficiality of the cocktail party, or the after-worship coffee hour. Are we willing to "go into the world" in this sense? These neighbors of ours may never know that "God cared enough to send the very best," unless and until we, God's people, first demonstrate by word and deed, that we care enough to be the very best that God sent. Presbyterians, many years ago, coined the phrase,"Friendship Evangelism." Too often, we have emphasized friendship without evangelism.
We learn to care, to show compassion, only as we expose ourselves to each other in some degree of depth. We learn to care, not by standing on the sidelines and throwing rocks, but by sharing ourselves with one another. We learn to care when we know that other Christians care about us, as we are, with no strings attached.
In a cartoon, a doctor refers to his patient as a "gall bladder in 909." That description, of course, dehumanizes his patient. Christ calls us to trust each other as persons, literally, as though we are the other, not that nasty person down the street, but that person who hurts so badly she can relate to no one; not that sour-joe at the office, but that person whose wife just left him; not that alcoholic on skid row, but that person whose life has crashed on the rocks; not that obnoxious spouse of ours, but that person who first must learn how to relate in our quirks.
Christ's mission, and therefore ours, is to these -- not to criticize, castigate, clobber, condemn, but to console, comfort, confront, counsel.When we accept Christ's mission as ours, as Christ's mission through us, then, we begin to understand Christ's commission to "go into all the world" for his sake, for the world's sake, and yes, for our sake also.
From the world to the church back into the world. Go into all the world, knowing that our greatest witness is our deepest relationship of love. That is the church in action. That is the church in mission. That's where we are. That's who we are, for Christ's sake, under Christ's direction, in Christ's power.
