Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Being Church (sermon, May 16, 2010)

Acts 1:1-11
A minister I know got on a plane recently. He began to talk to the person in the seat next to him and they soon exchanged names. Fishing for a conversation topic, the minister asked the man, “So, do you go to church?”
“Funny you should ask,” replied the man. “My family and I just recently made a decision about church.” He went on to explain that the previous year, he and his family had let themselves get totally over-extended. Between work, social commitments, and the activities of their two children – one in elementary school, one in middle school – they were exhausted by Christmas. They were determined that this year would be different.
So one Sunday, having gone to church that morning, they held a family meeting to review all of their commitments in light of how each helped them be the kind of individuals and family they wanted to be. After an hour and a half of conversation, they made their decisions. And they decided to stop “doing” church. Girl Scouts remained, but church was out. “It's just not that meaningful," the man explained. "We go each week and finally realized we're not getting anything out of it. It doesn't connect with the rest of our lives, let alone help us lead those lives. So we're done. We’re not doing church any more.” (1)

When I read texts like today’s passage, frankly, I’m not surprised that so many people today feel that church and the Bible simply don’t connect with their lives. I mean, are we really supposed to believe that the disciples actually stood there and watched Jesus float away on a cloud and disappear from sight? Frankly, that is more than a little absurd. Before Galileo, people may have believed that heaven really was “up there” and earth was “down here,” but now we know way better than that. So what could this text possibly have to say, not just to those of us who thought it was worth our time to show up to church this morning, but for people like that man on the airplane and his family, who have decided that what church offers them is not enough to justify the sacrifice of time and energy it requires? What does this text offer people like that?

Well, although it’s easy to get caught up in this strange and improbable description of Jesus rising up to heaven, we should remember that the first century author of Acts would have believed that the earth was smack in the middle of heaven “up there” and hell “down there.” So in having Jesus rise up to heaven on a cloud, that author isn’t making a statement about the location of heaven. In this description of Jesus’ ascension, the author is making the point that from this moment on, Jesus is no longer present on earth with the disciples. Forty days after the resurrection he returns to God, not dead, exactly, but no longer a living, breathing, eating, teaching, guiding presence on earth. The point of the ascension is that Jesus, God revealed in human flesh, is no longer here. Jesus is no longer here to eat with prostitutes and tax collectors; no longer here to cure diseases; no longer here to tell us just exactly what, by the way, would he do?; no longer here.

But in another, very tangible way, Jesus is here: “You will be my witnesses,” he tells his faithful disciples. “You will be my witnesses, in Jerusalem, in all of Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

The day Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold opened fire at Columbine High School was a long, grueling day for the parents of every child who attended the school. Many of the parents waited at a nearby elementary school, where students arrived as they escaped the building and signed in. Parents checked and rechecked the sign-in sheets, looking for the familiar handwriting of their children. Although the shooting was over shortly after noon, students kept arriving at the elementary school for hours. Every twenty or thirty minutes a new busload of kids would arrive and there would be another round of tearful reunions. But at 4p.m., the buses stopped coming. Authorities promised that there would be one more bus, but it didn’t come. The remaining parents looked around, knowing that some of them would receive the worst news a parent can imagine.
Four more hours passed and still the bus didn’t come. Finally, the county coroner handed out forms asking the parents for descriptions of their children’s clothing and other physical details and to retrieve their children’s dental records. At that point, for many of them, the truth began to sink in. Their children were dead.
The press had been cleared from the area before the parents had been addressed by the coroner, but Lynn Duff, a Red Cross volunteer, was there assisting the families. Lynn noticed that the Evangelical Christian parents responded differently from the other parents. This is how she described what she observed:
“The way that [the Evangelicals] reacted was markedly different...It was like a hundred and eighty degrees from where everybody else was. They were singing; they were praying; they were comforting the other parents...They were thinking a lot about the other parents, the other families, and responding a lot to other people’s needs. They were definitely in pain, and you could see the pain in their eyes, but they were very confident of where there kids were. They were at peace with it. It was like they were a living example of their faith.” (2)
“You will be my witnesses,” Jesus tells the disciples just before he leaves them. Their task -- our task -- is to witness to Jesus by carrying out his work in the world, the work of healing, comforting, serving, loving all people. That is what it means to “do church” and that is what Jesus calls us to do. “Doing church” certainly doesn’t just mean showing up on Sunday morning and checking off “worship” as one of many activities in your life. “Doing church” isn’t a Sunday activity at all -- it’s a daily activity, it is the primary task of our lives as children of God and witnesses to God’s revelation in Jesus Christ.

But what, then, do we do when -- for us or for others -- “doing church” has become just another activity among the many activities that take up our time and drain our energy? Well, thankfully, buried in this description of Jesus’ ascension, there is an answer to that very question. Because before he leaves, Jesus doesn’t just tell the disciples what to do, he also gives them what they need to be his witnesses: “you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now,” he promises. And “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.” Jesus doesn’t expect the disciples -- or any of us -- to “do church” by our own power or ability -- if that were the case, then sooner or later, we would all burn out on church. Jesus promises that witnessing to the gospel is something we will do by the power of the Holy Spirit working in and through us. And that means before we can “do church” at all, we have to ‘be’ the church, we have to be baptized by the Holy Spirit, we have to open ourselves to the living God that is at work among us here and now. Before we can “do church” we have to “be church.”

I recently learned about a beautiful Muslim custom. As soon as a Muslim baby is born, the adhan, the call to prayer, is whispered into the baby’s ear. The first two words are “Allahu Akbar” which means “Allah is great” or “God is great.” So the first thing a baby hears is the word “God” whispered into her ear. This same call to prayer echoes through the streets five times a day in Muslim countries. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, the call to prayer reaches your ears, reminding you of what was first whispered in your ear when you were born, reminding you that God -- who created you and sustains you and loves you -- deserves your undying devotion and praise. (3)

Although we Christians don’t have a similar custom that I’m aware of for blessing a newborn baby with the name of God at the moment of birth, we do have a ritual through which we assure children and adults that they are loved and claimed by God. That ritual is the sacrament of baptism, and although we baptize with water, just as John the Baptist did, in that act we believe that the person being baptized receives the Holy Spirit, the very Spirit Jesus promises his disciples, the very Spirit that will come like wind and fire at Pentecost, the Spirit that is even now in this place, that moves in you and me and enables us to witness to the good news of God’s love in Jesus Christ.

On a recent Dixie Chicks album the musicians and mothers who make up the band included a beautiful lullaby dedicated to their children. Here are the words to the chorus: “How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough? Is forever enough? How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough, ‘cause I’m never, ever giving you up.” (4)

The promise we receive in baptism is this: we are God’s beloved. God is never giving us up, nor is God ever giving up on us. The good news of this text is that witnessing is not dependent on our abilities. And although many of us like to think of ourselves as capable people with important responsibilities and duties, the truth is, in God’s eyes we are as helpless and dependent as newborn babies. So in order to act as the church -- to “do church” -- we first have to “be church” by receiving the gift of the Spirit, God’s gift of love to us.

Sometimes those of us who are longtime church members and leaders don’t always make clear to everyone who walks through the doors that “doing church” is much less about doing and more about being. God gives us the gift of the Spirit so that we can spread the word: “how long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough? Is forever enough?” Because you can give up on church, you can give up on God, but God is never giving you up. Amen.

Endnotes:
1. David Lose, “Dear Working Preacher,” May 9, 2010.
2. Dave Cullen, Columbine. Twelve, New York, 2009, p. 94.
3. Martin B. Copenhaver, “Whispered in Your Ear,” Journal for Preachers, Vol. 23, No. 3, p. 38.
4. Listen to the song here.

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