04.20.08
This Week’s Sermon – A Martyr’s Faith
Good day, everyone! I pray that you are enjoy the blessings of being alive. If today is a struggle, I pray that God gives you someone to walk with you on your journey. Have a great week!
SCRIPTURE – Acts 7:54-8:1a
When they heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. “Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.”
At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep. And Saul was there, giving approval to his death.
SERMON
A Martyr’s Faith
Acts 7:55-60
April 20. 2008
No church is perfect. No matter how peaceful and harmonious a church may seem, every congregation has its flaws. I served a church in seminary that was known for its amazing architecture, but was falling apart at the seams spiritually because of the behavior of a few church members. Even this church went through an incredibly tumultuous time back in the 1990s.
But I’m going to guess that no one was murdered in the process, even though there may have been very qualified candidates. I know of a lot of churches that have gone through nasty conflicts and divisive battles. I’ve even heard of churches excommunicating people. But I’ve yet to hear of a church that settles its dispute by killing the catalyst.
Last week we looked at the portrait of the early church in Acts 2. It was all peace and love and rainbows as the church shared everything together and ate meals with glad and sincere hearts. I’m sure “Kum Bah Yah” was playing on the radio while they ate. And yet, only five chapters later, we have the story of Stephen, who was stoned to death by the church board for saying what he believed.
Stephen is an interesting story. We first hear about him in Acts 6, when the apostles were becoming overloaded with work and beginning to ignore their duty of caring for the widows. So the apostles appoint seven people to take over that responsibility, and one of those is Stephen, who was said to be “a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit.”
Stephen takes on this responsibility and does it with great fervor. In fact, it is from him that we get the name for our Stephen Ministry program, which provides care for people going through difficult times. Acts 6 says that Stephen “did great wonders and miraculous signs among the people.” But not everyone was happy. Some of the synagogue leaders began to argue with him, and when they realized they couldn’t outwit him or change his mind, they simply lied about him, accusing him of blasphemy against God. The penalty for blasphemy was death.
Stephen is put on trial by the Sanhedrin, the Jewish religious ruling council, and he gives an impassioned speech in chapter 7 about how followers of God have a history of disobedience, and the followers in front of him were no different. Stephen had to know he was speaking his own death sentence. You don’t look your judge in the eye and tell him all the things he’s doing wrong.
Here’s how Stephen concludes his speech. Imagine listening to this as one of those who was deciding Stephen’s fate. Imagine Stephen is speaking about you: “You stiff-necked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears! You are just like your fathers: You always resist the Holy Spirit! Was there ever a prophet your fathers did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— you who have received the law that was put into effect through angels but have not obeyed it.” Stephen was an excellent administrator and a man of great faith, but he could definitely use some work on his diplomacy skills.
So the result is what you would expect, and it’s what we pick up in today’s passage. Verse 54 says, “When they heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him.” The originally Hebrew literally translates to say, “Their hearts were ripped open.” This lynch mob takes Stephen outside the city and stones him to death.
What did Stephen do wrong here? What did he do to deserve this fate? He enthusiastically helped widows. He was a man who lived out his faith with zeal. He was accused of blasphemy, but that was the only way his enemies could get him arrested. So what did he do wrong?
You may not know the name Jeffrey Wigand, but you might know his story. Wigand was vice-president of research and development for Brown and Williamson in Louisville, Ky., where he was working on the development of safer cigarettes. When he realized that the company was covering up important information about the addictiveness of cigarettes, he spoke up and became one of the most famous whistle-blowers in our country’s history. They even made a movie about him called “The Insider.”
What did Wigand get for his noble efforts? Well, he got fired, of course. His wife divorced him and moved his two daughters to another state. He had a lawsuit filed against him. He had to hire two ex-Secret Service agents as bodyguards. He found a bullet in his mailbox. He had a 500-page smear campaign launched against him by Brown and Williamson. He wasn’t stoned to death, but I would have to imagine at times it felt that way.
What did Jeffrey Wigand and Stephen both do wrong? The told the truth. They looked at what was going on around them and dared to name it. They put their jobs, reputations, and lives on the line for the sake of telling the truth. Regardless of the consequences, they put more value on the truth than on themselves.
It’s a novel concept in these days of scripted reality TV shows and fictionalized memoirs and political campaigns. Pilate’s question to Jesus – “What is truth?” – rings in our ears today. In fact, the idea of telling the truth has become almost humorous. Comedian Stephen Colbert, host of Comedy Central’s The Colbert Report, has added a new term to our culture’s lexicon — “truthiness.” Colbert defines “truthiness” as “a devotion to information that he wishes were true even if it’s not.” Colbert says with a straight face: “I’m not a fan of facts. You see, facts can change, but my opinion will never change, no matter what the facts are.”
Both Jeffrey Wigand and Stephen found out the dangers of speaking the facts. If you were put in a similar situation as either of these men, what would you do? It’s easy for us to take the noble high road on a Sunday morning, but if we were confronted with similar situations, would we be bold enough to tell the truth, or would we resort to “truthiness”?
I think another way to ask that question is, “What is worth living for and what is worth dying for?” Now, let’s be honest. I doubt that you or I will be put in a situation where we have to make the choice that Stephen did. He knew that if he remained faithful and told the truth in the face of opposition, it would not only make him extremely unpopular, it would make him dead.
Even if telling the truth wouldn’t end our lives, it could end other things: important relationships, our acceptance within certain circles, our standing or regard in the community. If a relative engages in behavior we consider un-Christian, or a friend tells an offensive joke, do we speak up and call it like we see it, or is it better to stay quiet, to let it pass, to assume that someone else will say something?
I think most times, I would stay quiet. It’s easier, isn’t it? Who am I to pass judgment? Let God sort them out. Sometimes I’m a better diplomat than a truth-teller. But if I profess to believe in Jesus Christ, who said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” and if I am trying to live a life worthy of him, what role does truth play? Does the truth take priority at all times, or only when telling it won’t get me in trouble?
It’s hard to speak the truth, even in love. But there are situations in our lives that cry out for the truth to be spoken, and maybe God has called us to be the truth speaker in that situation. Does it take courage? You bet. Could there be consequences? Of course. But we are followers of the Truth. Paul says in 2 Corinthians, “We cannot do anything against the truth, but only for the truth.
Ah yes, Paul. The other actor in Stephen’s drama. Of course, he was known as Saul then. As a leader in the synagogue, Paul gave tacit approval for Stephen’s murder. And yet, that experience had a profound influence on Paul. After he is converted, Paul references Stephen’s death when talking about how God took the person Paul was and transformed him to the person he became, the greatest evangelist who ever lived.
Here’s what that tells me: You never know who’s watching you. You never know who’s going to overhear you telling the truth, taking a stand for your faith regardless of the consequences. We are called to live as Christians first, and that means being willing to let our faith guide and direct our actions, even when it has consequences. There’s the popular thing to do, the safe thing to do – then there’s the right thing to do.
After all, Jesus didn’t say, “I came into this world to testify to truthiness.” He said, “I came into this world to testify to the truth.” May the lives we live and the choices we make give the same testimony.
04.16.08
This Week’s Sermon – Being A Community
Greetings, everyone! Here is the sermon from this past week. We had a big Birthday Dinner and Auction celebration on Saturday night, so I thought I would follow that up by preaching on how Luke defines the early church community in Acts. Have a great week!
SCRIPTURE – Acts 2:42-47
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.
SERMON
Being A Community
Acts 2:42-47
April 13, 2008
Here’s news: we’re getting older. Not just us, but our denomination as a whole. A few years ago, our denomination decided to respond to the decreasing rate of participation and attendance in its churches. So our General Minister and President at the time cast what we called the 20/20 Vision. The goal was to start 1000 new churches by the year 2020 with the hope of revitalizing our denomination and continue to spread the Good News. We’re ahead of schedule. Since 2001 we’ve started 533 new churches, including several in the Chicago area.
Starting a new church is not easy; in fact, it may be one of the hardest challenges in ministry. My friend David Shirey and his family are doing a new church start in the Phoenix area, and I’ve learned from him how tough it has been to start a church. Of course, this past winter, starting a church in Phoenix was sounding more and more appealing, but he assures me it’s hard to start a new church, even in that kind of weather. To build a church from scratch can be a daunting task.
That’s why this passage today is so informative. What we have here is the original new church start. These five passages lay out for us the framework of how the first church got its start. Now, of course, at the time the people didn’t know they were starting a church. They thought they were simply continuing the practices of the Jewish religious heritage, with the added benefit of the Spirit of Jesus Christ to lead them. It wouldn’t be until about 70 years after this that the church would break off from the synagogue and the true understanding of Christianity would begin to form.
This passage is not only a model for how to start a church, but for how to grow a church. A few people in our congregation are doing some work in the area of evangelism, and you’ll be hearing more about that soon. The purpose of the project is simply to learn more about how we can tell our faith story for the purpose of bringing more people closer to God through our church. So if we believe it’s important to share the good news of Jesus and grow the church, what can we learn about that from the first church?
First, it’s important to note when this story takes place in the larger narrative. It comes right after the rush of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit was poured out on the disciples and there were 3,000 converts in one day. I’ve heard of revivals with similar outcomes, and I’ve talked to people who had such whirlwind conversions at church camp or a tent meeting.
The challenge with such phenomena is sustainability. How do you reproduce that experience? We had a very special worship service last week. That’s not because of anything Tim or I did; it was the work of God’s Spirit. The sun was shining through the windows, the music was phenomenal, we had two families come forward to join the church, Jesus came down and sang a solo. OK, that didn’t happen, but it would have fit right in! There was this amazing spirit permeating our worship.
As people were leaving, one worshipper said to me, “What a service! Now, how can we bottle this spirit and use it each week?” That’s a great question, and if I knew the answer, we’d be building a bigger sanctuary. But I’m not sure that’s our goal. There are going to be some Sundays that are Spirit-filled, and some that feel more routine. But we are called to be the church in both instances. The early church didn’t seek to reproduce the Pentecost experience the next week; they moved right into the activities that would sustain them as a community over the long haul.
What were those activities? Notice the first sentence: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer.” Right away we’re given this four-fold model of what it means to be a community together. Growing together through learning, spending time together through fellowship, worshipping together with communion, and praying together. All of these are important to a growing church.
But there’s something there that’s even more important. Did you hear the first few words? “They devoted themselves.” In those days, the church’s existence was in constant danger. At any time the Romans could break in and put a halt to these gatherings. In fact, early Christians met in the underground catacombs to avoid being detected. The existence of the church depended upon the devotion of each and every member.
We have it much different today. The church is well established; we don’t have to meet underground or hide from the authorities. We know that if we’re gone for a week or a month, the church will still be there and somebody will make sure the heat gets turned on and the bills get paid and everything runs smoothly. Does this knowledge produce in us a certain comfort level that works against our devotion?
For the early church, their community of faith wasn’t a hobby or an escape or something to do from time to time. They didn’t decide to participate if nothing better was going on. They realized that devotion to Jesus Christ meant a fundamentally different way of living and thinking in this world. They devoted themselves. In a growing church, people are devoted to following Christ over and above everything else.
There’s another part of this passage that I’ve always found interesting. That’s the concept of the early church having everything in common, selling everything they had and distributing it to those in need. That really goes against our modern understanding of our basic sense of self-worth. For our first four years of marriage, Leigh and I lived in apartments. It wasn’t until we moved here to Illinois that we bought our first house. That one transaction fundamentally change who we were. We were homeowners, for better or for worse. We could say, “This is our house.” We had ownership of the place, we could paint the walls whatever color we wanted, we could hang sports posters on all the walls – still being negotiated, by the way.
When I lived in Indiana, I used to golf at a course that was right next to a farm. I got the impression the farmer wasn’t too happy about this, because posted along the fence line separating the course from the farm was a series of signs that simply said, “Private Property” and then showed a picture of a shotgun. Now that’s a clear message. I can’t tell you how many golf balls I hit across that fence line, but I can tell you how many of them I retrieved. Zero! That farmer stated in no uncertain terms that was his land.
But the early church had no concept of such possessiveness. Nothing was his or hers; everything was ours. And that reflects the truth that everything is really God’s. We don’t own anything, in the ultimate sense. So if it’s not mine, it becomes a lot easier to share what I have. For the early church, this may have been a matter of survival. They had to share their possession as a way of helping the community make it from day to day.
What that implies for me is the necessity of a long-term commitment to the community of faith. It’s one thing to drop a $20 in the offering plate; it’s quite another to commit to sharing what you have with others. Such a commitment helps to grow a church that people want to be part of, because it’s a place where they can experience the essence of community.
For the early church, part of this community was demonstrated when they “broke bread in their homes and ate with together with glad and sincere hearts.” I like that. The early church ate a lot! We’ve already got that aspect of a growing church down pat. But they didn’t just break bread together; they did it joyfully. They had fun. They enjoyed each other’s company. If someone asks you about what this church is like, how would you answer? What qualities would you lift up? And would you answer with a glad and sincere heart? If not, Tim and I and the leaders of this church need to know that, because we want this church to model the first church in its spirit and devotion.
So let’s see if we’ve got this right. According to this passage, a growing church is one where everyone has a place; a growing church is one that seeks to make worship a part of its everyday life; and a growing church is driven by service to others.
You know, that reminds me of another thing I read recently. “We are called to welcome people into a loving and caring church family, to equip people with a Christ-centered faith that works in real life, and to share God’s love for us through compassionate service to others. We are called to be Community Christian Church.”
That’s who we are called to be. If we strive to fulfill that mission, will we grow? The funny thing is, that’s not up to us. Notice who did the growing in the Acts community: “the Lord added to their number daily.”
So what’s our role? It’s in v. 42: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” They devoted themselves. They devoted themselves to welcoming others. They devoted themselves to growing their faith. They devoted themselves to serving others. They devoted themselves to Jesus Christ. What’s our role in growing this church? It takes each one of us. It takes you and me. It takes a devotion, a commitment, to carrying out our mission. No one is a spare part. Everyone has a part to play and a gift to share. Imagine what would happen if every one of us devoted ourselves to our mission. Imagine how many lives we could change through Christ. I wonder how many? “And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.”
04.06.08
This Week’s Sermon – Walking with Jesus
Hey everyone! It feels like Spring has finally sprung. We can only hope it stays that way. I hung up my shovel this weekend, which guarantees another 6 inches of snow before June. Here is this week’s sermon. Have a blessed week!
SCRIPTURE
Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him. He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”
They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?” ”What things?” he asked. ”About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.”
He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.
As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus acted as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them.
When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”
They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, “It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.” Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread.
SERMON
Walking with Jesus
Luke 24:13-35
April 6, 2008
This is an awesome story. It’s what we ministers call “meaty,” because there’s so much in here to talk about. I could preach for hours on the Road to Emmaus story, although I’m not planning on it.
This is the most fully developed resurrection appearance in the Gospels, and it has a little bit of everything. In fact, when you think about it, it’s a microcosm of what being a Christian is all about. The crisis that leads to disappointment, doubt, and a deeper search for faith; the turning to someone who might or might not help; the discovery that in God’s word there are answers to the questions that have arisen; the sudden realization of Jesus’ presence with us, walking beside us, warming our hearts, breaking bread with us. This story captures the essence of the Christian journey.
But the tendency with a story like this is to want to skip ahead to the ending. I was having a conversation once with a family from church, and the wife was telling a rather long-winded, meandering story that I’m sure had a point somewhere at the distant end of it. I could tell the husband was getting impatient, and finally he blurted out, “C’mon, Honey, we don’t want to hear about the labor, just show us the baby!”
When it comes to the Road to Emmaus story, I think we are eager to get to the baby without going through the labor. We want to read the end of novel without working our way through the story, unraveling the plot, learning the characters. This story has two parallels to worship: the reading and explaining of scripture, and then the breaking of bread. I think our tendency is to want to skip the sermon and get right to communion. No suck luck today, folks.
I think that impatience which I know I have as a Christian is a real detriment. As Tim talked about last week, to truly understand the nature of being a Christian, we have to be willing to face and reflect on some of the less appealing aspects of our faith, like suffering or obedience. Or in the case of these travelers, disappointment.
It’s Easter Sunday, and Cleopas and the other unnamed person are traveling back to Emmaus from Jerusalem, where some amazing and perplexing things have happened. So here’s my question: If there’s talk of a missing body and appearing angels and a risen Savior in Jerusalem, why are they leaving? If I were them, I would want to stick around, to find out what’s going on. Why are they heading out of town when all the answers are behind them?
Because what’s behind them represents the destruction of their dreams. Barbara Brown Taylor says that “hope in the past tense is one of the saddest sounds a human being can make.” Cleopas says, “We had hoped that he was the One who was going to redeem Israel.” We had hoped. We had hoped for a optimistic diagnosis. We had hoped for financial security. We had hoped to spend the rest of our lives together. There is nothing that rips your heart out like hope in the past tense. And where does that leave us? Not wanting to stick around, that’s for sure. We want to run away.
You and I have walked this road to Emmaus before. It’s the road of deep disappointment. It’s the road of realization that your plans may not be God’s plans, that life sometimes stomps on and smashes our biggest hopes. If Jesus had truly been the one to redeem Israel, he should have been defeating pagans, not dying at their hands. We had hoped.
I hope you see the irony at play here. The travelers are walking along, chins dragging, looking like they had lost their best friend, when this stranger comes along and asks them, “Why the long faces?” And they begin to explain to him all that had happened and how their dreams had been dashed and how this prophet Jesus had disappointed them by having the audacity to let himself get killed. And of course, we readers know to whom they are talking. Cleopas literally says, “No one has seen Jesus,” and he says it to Jesus!
I think I’ve told you before about the time I was in the drugstore to pick up a prescription, and the pharmacist said to me, “This prescription is for Kory?” and I said, “Yes.” And she said, “Can you verify the address?” And I said, “563 N. Emerson Lane in Hainesville.” And she said, “Has she ever used this medication before?” And I wanted to say, “Lady, I’m her! I’m standing right in front of you, how can you not know me?” Jesus says to them, “How foolish you are!” and proceeds to show them through the Scriptures exactly what’s been going on and who it is that’s standing right in front of them.
How often have we walked lonely roads and gone through difficult times thinking we are all alone, only to find out that Jesus was walking beside us and we didn’t even know it. It’s an important lesson, because my experience has always been that when I am in the midst of difficult times, I am consumed by negative thoughts. I think that’s human nature. It’s hard to feel upbeat and chipper when we’ve suffered a hope-killing blow.
I wonder how many times I’ve asked God to be with me, to give me some kind of sign, and all the while God has been standing right in front of me going, “I’m right here! How can you not know me?” It gives me hope to know that God won’t stop walking beside me just because I don’t acknowledge his presence.
After the travelers pour out their hearts, Jesus responds rather unsympathetically, “You idiots! If you’d read your Bible, you wouldn’t be surprised.” And he proceeds to interpret the biblical story for them in light of his resurrection. Because that is how the story must be heard. That is how all stories of faith must be heard. The Creation Story, Noah’s Ark, Joseph and his fancy coat, Moses and the burning bush, the parting of the Red Sea, the prophets’ warnings and predictions…all these stories, all the stories in the Bible, only make sense when read in light of Jesus Christ and his resurrection, in light of God’s plan for us.
I love movies that have surprise endings. I’m terrible at figuring them out, which may be why I enjoy them so much. I especially liked “The Usual Suspects,” because the twist at the end is so well done and so surprising (at least to me!). When I found out the identity of Keyser Soze, I started yelling at the movie screen, “No way!” I had to watch the movie again to fully appreciate it and to better understand what was going on.
When we’re in the middle of the movie of our lives, things don’t always make sense to us. We don’t quite understand why things happen the way they do. We get caught up in the tensions of what feel like irresolvable conflicts. But what this story tells us is that if we strive to look at our lives through the lens of Christ’s death and resurrection, we’ll gain a different perspective on our story.
That perspective, which the travelers lacked, was the perspective of hope. What this story reminds me is that I believe in a God who has this amazing knack of taking dead dreams and resurrecting them in surprising ways. For the two travelers and for us, what may on the surface look like the end of hope may actually be the beginning. God’s promises are trustworthy. God is good, God is with us, God will redeem us, although maybe not in the ways we plan or expect.
That is the source of our hope, along with the reassurance of scripture and God’s abiding presence with us. This story gives me optimism, because it tells me a little something about the people who experience Jesus’ presence. He didn’t come to those who had it all figured out. He didn’t walk with people who were able to keep a smile on their face while their world was coming to an end. Instead, he comes to those who are disappointed, doubtful, disconsolate. He comes to those who don’t know their Bibles, who don’t recognize him even when he’s walking right beside them. He comes to those who have given up and are headed back home. He comes to people like us.
Thankfully, the travelers invite Jesus to stay with them, and they are given a transformed view of this stranger in their midst. Yes, now we come to baby, to the end of today’s journey, to the shared meal and broken bread. We come to be reminded that Christ is with us along our journeys. We come to have our eyes opened to his presence and his teaching. If we are prepared, if our hearts are ready, we will see him.
But here’s the thing: When we leave this place, we’ll start another journey, and I’d be willing to bet that somewhere along this coming week’s journey, we’ll run into disappointment, or doubt, or despair. Will we continue to live in the past tense? “We had hoped.” Or will we remember what we’ve heard in scripture, the promise of protection and presence: “I am with you always”? May we recognize – in the hug from a friend or loved one, in the words of scripture or a devotional, in the kind gesture of a stranger – that Jesus walks with us on our journey.
04.05.08
God Is Doing A New Thing
He told them this parable: “No one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. – Luke 5:36-38
My first reaction to Jesus’ words here is to say, “But what’s wrong with the old wineskins? I don’t want new wineskins. We’ve always used the old wineskins!”
That tends to be our reaction to change in our lives. And yet, you know the old saying – “Change is inevitable – except from vending machines.” Change is a fundamental part of living life on this earth and with each other.
This year is shaping up to be a year of change for CCC. On July 1st, we will be implementing a new constitution, which presents a fairly drastic shift from how we’ve governed in the past. In addition, by now you are probably aware that our associate minister, Tim Akers, has submitted his resignation and will be leaving us on July 27th.
That’s a lot to undertake in one year, let alone one month! And yet I am confident that God will guide us through this change and lead us to a place even better than we can imagine. However, for us to get there safely and intact, I believe there are some things we can do to ensure a smooth journey.
Communicate – Nothing slows down a process faster than lack of communication. I promise to keep you as informed as possible and the direction in which the church is heading. Let’s keep talking about our concerns, our joys and our questions as we move forward. If you are unsure of anything, you can always come to me or one of the leaders of the church. That’s what we are here for.
Be open to “new wineskins” – We are all about to enter into a time when things are different than they have been in the past, and it’s natural for us to feel somewhat anxious about that. While everything may not be exactly how we would like, we can trust that God is “doing a new thing” in our midst, if we stay open to receiving it.
Practice a spirit of forgiveness – I have yet to meet the perfect person. That means that each one of us is going to err from time to time, and often those mistakes are highlighted during times of transition. There is a lot of unknown in front of us, and our greatest learning may come from our false starts, missteps, and slip-ups. A spirit of forgiveness will foster an atmosphere of grace here at CCC, and allow everyone to move forward with confidence, even in the midst of our trials and errors.
Pray! – We simply cannot do this alone. We need God’s guiding, empowering Spirit to lead us. Pray that God continues to show this church family God’s will for us, and that we have the wisdom and strength to follow it.
William Shakespeare wrote, “We know what we are, but know not what we may be.” What excites me most about the future of CCC is that God is in the unknown, working to bring about God’s will in the midst of our transition. We know not what we may be, but God knows, and with faith and a spirit of service, we will find out. My prayer is that we all become new wineskins, so that we are ready to receive the outpouring of God’s spirit that awaits us. Bring on the new wine!
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
