My last sermon at CCC – Praying Goodbye

Thanks to everyone for a wonderful send-off today. It was Spirit-filled and such a celebration. God be with you til we meet again!

Praying Goodbye
Phil. 1:3-11
Oct. 25, 2009

I want to tell you about July 3, 2001. It was a Tuesday and it was my third day on the job as associate minister at Community Christian Church. I had been ordained about two months before and was so new to the ministry I still had tags on me and that fresh new minister smell. I had survived my first Sunday in the pulpit without getting booed out of the sanctuary, so I thought I was off to a pretty good start. I was ready for anything!

Except for the phone call I was about to receive. Nelson Irving, the senior pastor, was out of the office, probably playing pool at Ken Fisher’s house, so after only three days on the job, I was left in charge. Big mistake. The phone rings, and I answer it in my most professional minister voice: “Community Christian Church, this is Kory.” The voice on the other end was almost hysterical. Apparently, this lady’s teenage son was creating all kinds of havoc in their household and she was at the end of her rope. She ranted and raved for about ten straight minutes, spewing forth this stream of frustration and angst that was melting the phone in my hands. When she finally paused to take a breath, she says in the most exasperated tone, “So…what should I do?”

Umm. They didn’t train me for this in seminary. I never took a class on handling irate parishioners. So I summoned up my most pastoral voice and said, as I was taught to say in my Introduction to Pastoral Counseling class, “Well, that’s a tough situation. I really feel for you. I wish I had an easy answer you, but I don’t.” Then I smiled, and said to myself, “Ooo, good empathizing! That’s just the soothing balm this lady needs. This ministry stuff is easy!” And there was a pause on the other end of the line for about three seconds, then I heard this intake of breath and a voice almost scream, “Well, that’s just not good enough!”

You can imagine how I felt at that moment. Here I had invested four years of time, money and effort into earning a Master of Divinity degree, sacrificed time with my wife and little daughter, slogged out systematic theology papers, moved to Illinois, and after three days on the job I was already a failure. How ironic that Jesus rose on the third day and I was crucified on it. “That’s just not good enough!”

Well, eight years later, I’m happy to say that parishioner and I have a wonderful relationship, and while I didn’t fix her teenage son, I hope I provided some sort of comfort to her and her family along the way. In fact, I had lunch with her recently and we laughed about that first phone call. I tell that story because as I reflect on my time here, I realize that ever since that day I’ve been doing my best to be “good enough” as your minister. I have been my own hardest critic and toughest boss, trying to live up to my calling as a Christian minister and servant of a congregation, and live up to my own expectations to be “good enough.”

And I’ve failed. I haven’t been good enough. Now, you may want to disagree with me and I appreciate that sentiment, or you may want to agree with me, in which case I appreciate you remaining quiet. But the truth of the matter is that, when I look at who I was called to be, I wasn’t good enough. In fact, none of us are. No matter how exemplary our lives, no matter how selfless or generous or compassionate we are, we can never measure up to the standards that are set for us. At some point, whether it is three days or three years or thirty years, we will fall short.

But through our faith in Christ, that all changes. Through our belief in Jesus as our savior, we go from being “not good enough” to being “good enough.” We may not always live up to this description, but the forgiveness and mercy we are offered at the Communion Table is one of the ways God looks at us and says, “You are good enough.”

I want to say to you that you are good enough, as individuals and as a congregation. We’ve had our ups and downs together, our successes and our failures, our times of great faith and times of great doubt, but in the end, I can say with confidence that you are good enough. Not because of anything you have done, but because of what I’ve seen God do through you.

And I can say that because I’ve heard your story. Over these past eight years, I’ve had the honor of listening to your story and being a part of it. I’ve been invited into your homes, I’ve sat across lunch tables with you, I’ve talked with you on the phone, and I’ve exchanged emails with you. And all the while, I’ve been listening to your story.

But it goes deeper than just casual conversations, doesn’t it? We’ve sat together in the hospital waiting room or the funeral parlor. We’ve sat in my office and cried and laughed and worried and prayed. We’ve talked together in Friendship Hall after worship or in the parking lot after a meeting. We’ve worked side by side on mission trips. We’ve witnessed weddings and baby dedications. I’ve had the honor of hearing your story.

And what an amazing story it is! It’s a story of hope, of perseverance, of answered prayer, of faith in the midst of unanswered prayer, of living out what we believe by helping others. I’ve heard you tell it during our Thanksgiving service, or on Lay Sunday, or during the sharing of joys and concerns before our prayer. Your story is inspiring and moving and an incredible testimony to the work of God in this world.

So I want to encourage you today to keep telling that story. Author Diana Butler Bass says, “We become ourselves as well tell our stories.” You will continue to become whatever God is calling you to be as you put words to how you experience God in your life. You don’t have to tell it eloquently or dramatically or use big words like “penultimate” and “soteriology” (although if you do it makes it even better). Just tell your story.

You see those doors? There will be people coming through those doors who don’t know your story, including your next minister. And they need to hear it, because not only is it your story, not only is it this church’s story, it’s God’s story. And when you articulate it, when you speak it out loud, when you give voice to it, you become who God created you to be. You have an awesome story and I have been honored to be a part of it these last eight years. And I when I tell my story, you will have a special place in it.

And now, this chapter comes to an end. I have had several people say, “I’m not going to say ‘goodbye’ because that just sounds so final.” Yes, it does and yes, it is. But not when you consider what it really means. The word “goodbye” is a contracted form of the phrase, “God be with ye.” To say “goodbye” is to entrust someone to God’s care once they are no longer in your presence.
Other languages pick up on this. In Spanish, the word for God is “Dios,” so their parting word, “Adios,” literally means, “to God.”
Same with the French word “Adieu.” To God. And the German “auf Wiedersehen” literally means…actually, I don’t know what that means. But you get the idea.

In the Christian vocabulary, there’s a word that carries with it some of the same meanings. It’s a word we use a lot when we pray: Amen. Amen means “right on” or “let it be so” or, as they say where I’m going in Kentucky, “Yup!” It’s the exclamation point at the end of sentence that affirms the truth of what’s been said and commends it to God.

You probably have never noticed that I don’t end my sermons with an “amen” as a lot of pastors do. My preaching professor in seminary encouraged us to not do this, because he believes the sermon should only be the beginning of the conversation, not the end of it. “Don’t put a period where God wants to put a comma.” In other words, ending a sermon with “amen” is like saying, “And that’s all there is to say about that.” I don’t believe that’s true, so I have never said “amen” at the end of a sermon.

But this sermon is a little different, because in some ways it IS the end of the conversation, at the least one between you and me. We are putting the punctuation on the end of the sentence at the end of the paragraph at the end of the chapter, a chapter that I humbly pray was “good enough.” It feels like there’s still so much more to be done and so much we have left undone, but we’ll just have to turn that over to God and trust that the dialogue will be picked up by your next conversation partner. I can’t wait to hear what stories are written in your future. And until that happens, I am able to say with confidence, trust, faith and so much love, goodbye and amen.

My last newsletter column

“I have to say right up front, before I say anything else, how excited Leigh, Sydney and I are about becoming a part of your family. Whatever emotions I share from this point on in this column are completely dwarfed by the sheer joy we feel about coming to CCC.” – From the June 2001 newsletter

It’s hard for me to believe it’s been over eight years since I wrote those words. At the time I was a newly ordained minister (I still had that new seminary graduate smell!) preparing for his first job in the “real world” of congregational ministry. I was dealing with a new medical diagnosis and moving to a new city and state.

And you welcomed me without hesitation. To say “with open arms” would not only be a cliché but wouldn’t do justice to the hospitality you showed to my family and me. As we settled into this area, you all became not only our friends but our loved ones. Now it is eight years later, and we are preparing to leave the most loving and caring church we have known. It doesn’t even seem real that CCC will no longer be part of our lives. While we know there is a wonderful congregation awaiting our arrival, they will never be able to take the place of CCC in our hearts.

Thankfully, our leaving is not “goodbye” so much as “talk to you later.” Through the wonders of technology, I look forward to keeping in touch with you through email or on Facebook (and maybe even with actual mailed letters!). I love this congregation very much and will follow with much interest your future path. I want nothing more than God’s best for you all.

After all we have been through together, it is sad for me to think I will not be part of that future. But I believe God has someone perfect in mind to lead this congregation forward. I believe I have done what God called me to CCC to do. Now it is someone else’s turn to experience the warmth, hospitality and support this congregation has to offer.

An important shift will take place on Oct. 26. I will no longer be your pastor. I will not be able to offer you counsel or guidance. I won’t be coming to congregational gatherings. And you will no longer have to sit through my sermons (please hold your applause!). But, if it is your wish, I hope that we can continue to be friends. When my family and I have found a place to live in Lexington, I will be sure to pass along that information. In the meantime, I encourage you to use my personal email (wilkory@gmail.com) if you’d like to contact me.

Thank you, Community Christian Church. Thank you for your love and support. Thank you for your feedback and guidance. Thank you for your patience, your forgiveness and your companionship. I pray that these last eight years have been a blessing for you. If we have disagreed, I pray that I have not been a stumbling block for you. If I have, I ask your forgiveness. Please know that I will always remember this church fondly. After all, this is where I started my ministry. But it’s been more than that; this is where I came face-to-face with the image of God in each of you. Thank you.

This Week’s Sermon – Called to Share God’s Love

 Hi everyone! This sermon ends my series on the mission statement of Community Christian Church. I was a lot of fun to explore some of the questions behind what we’re called to do. Have a blessed week!

SCRIPTURE
James 2:14-18 – What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.” Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.

Mark 10:42-45 – Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

SERMON
Sermon Series – “Call to be…”
Sermon #4 – “Share God’s love…”
October 4, 2009

You may have heard of some of the great theologians of our time: Karl Barth, Paul Tillich, Frederick Buechner. But you may not know the great theologian Sylvester McMonkey McBean. In case you don’t know, McBean is a character in the Dr. Seuss story about the Sneetches. McBean shows up with his Star-On Machine, which will turn plain-bellied sneetches into star-bellied sneetches, thus upping their status in the sneetch community. You walked in to the machine, got your star, and then walked out a new person. Ta-da!

McBean may be a little opportunistic, but you could spin that by calling him an “agent of transformation”. It’s not unlike what the church is called to do: bring them in, transform them, then ship them out. Today, we finish our sermon series looking at our mission statement by exploring the meaning behind the last line: “We are called to share God’s love for us through compassionate service to others.” This imperative completes the McBean cycle. We bring them in by welcoming people into a loving and caring church family, we transform them by equipping them with a Christ-centered faith that works in real life, and then we ship them out to share God’s love through compassionate service. Ta-da!

When the Sneetches left the Star-On Machine, they did so with stars on their bellies and noses in the air. But we are called to leave this church very differently, with our eyes open and our hands ready to work. In other words, we are called to go from this place with a purpose, to take what we’ve learned and experienced and share it. This is not a side-effect of being in church; it is the primary purpose for it.

But why? Couldn’t our mission statement be complete without this last line? I know many people who believe the church exists to take care of them. Maybe you feel this way. The church is here so that when I need something or somebody, I have a place to go, like a spiritual ATM that serves up prayers and potlucks. Jesus said he came not to be served but to serve, but I wonder if at times the church doesn’t get that a little backward.

That doesn’t mean we should just ignore each other’s needs. We are a community, a loving and caring church family, and that means we take care of each other. But if our definition of the church ends there, then we have bought into the myth that the church is just one more service organization. Our mission statement, if we follow the thinking all the way through, implies that we welcome and equip so that we can share God’s love with each other and beyond the walls of the church.

The question, “Why do we serve?” is built on the understanding that we DO serve. The role of service in living out our faith is a given in our mission statement and it’s a given in the Bible, as well. James is the best example of this. “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” “Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.” Living out our faith through our actions is not optional. We are called to share God’s love.

But I believe we often times get caught up in serving for the wrong reasons. One author I read recently addressed this by talking about altruistic egoism. Altruistic egoism is the belief that by helping others, we can make ourselves feel better. And there is an element of truth to that. I do feel better about myself when I help someone else. But if that’s my main motivation, I’m engaging in self-service. If I’m serving someone else in order to check something off my mental feel-good list or to pad my spiritual resume, I’m actually doing a disservice.

Let me explain that with an analogy. I’ve learned the deep theological truth that road construction stinks, but I have come to love the concept of open-road toll plazas. If you have the neat little I-Pass attached to your windshield, you can zoom right through toll plazas without even slowing down, allowing the government to take your money as painlessly as possible. But if for some reason you don’t have an I-Pass or you are like a certain minister and leave it at home, when you come to a toll plaza you have to take that little exit and go through the booths, while all the people with I-Passes are zooming by and pointing their fingers at you and laughing.

I wonder if sometimes we don’t look at serving others as detours in our lives. We’d much rather keep zooming ahead on our own path, but because we know it’s the “Christian” thing to do, we take that little exit from our full-speed schedules and help someone else out, all the while thinking consciously or subconsciously, “I can’t wait until I can get back to doing what I want to do.” When we do that, the person we are serving is no longer a person in our eyes; they are simply a means to an end, a by-product in our desire to “do the right thing.”

So maybe we serve others because of altruistic egoism, because it makes us feel better. Or maybe we serve because it reflects well on us to do so. That doesn’t mean we serve to get fame or publicity but it is human nature to want to be appreciated for our efforts. After all, how can our lives make a difference if no one sees us making a difference? But so much of what God calls us to do will not result in a happy ending. We simply will not always benefit from serving someone else. That meal at the soup kitchen may not change a person’s life; that dollar in the beggar’s cup isn’t going to rescue her from poverty. Why make the effort if we’re not going to see a return on our investment? Let’s face it: serving others has very little upside.

So if we don’t get results and we don’t get recognition and we don’t get to pad our spiritual resume, why serve? “We are called to share God’s love for us through compassionate service to others.” We serve, our mission statement says, as a response to God’s love for us. Through Jesus Christ, God poured out love on us in the most extravagant, lavish way. It’s like trying to pour the ocean into a coffee mug or put a tree in a sandwich bag. When you have that much love given to you, you can’t help but let it overflow in your life, and one of the ways we do that is to turn that love into action through our service to others. And we do this out of compassion. The word “compassion” literally means “to suffer with.” To have pity on someone is to look down on them from a position of power. To have compassion for someone is to look at them as equals, from a position of solidarity and kindness.

What informs and undergirds that service and what keeps it from becoming self-service or acts of altruistic egoism, is our relationship with God. Author Eric Sandras says that many of us are lured into being busy for God, while sacrificing true relationship with Him. A week full of service opportunities will never take the place of an hour spent with God. It is that hour, that time, that relationship that helps us understand the depth and magnitude of God’s love for us and why we do everything else we do. It is our time spent with God that inspires our desire to have compassion, to suffer with our fellow humans.

I heard the story of a woman who went to Africa on a mission trip to work with people with AIDS. When she got there she looked around and saw this overwhelming sickness and poverty and hunger and she said, “I just wanted to scream at God. And then I realized God was screaming at me.” When we spend time listening to God, we can more clearly hear the call to compassionately serve others.

Having that understanding of God’s love for us as a foundation for our serving allows us to serve authentically, even when we don’t serve perfectly. On one of our Habitat workdays a few years ago, I was put in charge of placing stakes in the ground so we could rope off some newly cemented driveways. Obviously, those in charge were able to pick up on my incredible stake-placing gifts. So I set about my task with much diligence, placing the stakes at just the right depth and distance from each other. I mean, it was a work of art! Of course, what didn’t realize was that the crew had already poured the concrete for the driveway next door, so that I was leaving footprints in the wet concrete while I was doing my stake-placing for the neighboring driveway. Strangely enough, I haven’t been invited back to place more stakes.

God does not call us to serve perfectly; God only calls us to serve. Our service doesn’t have to be perfect for God to bless it. If God only used perfect people, nothing would ever get done at this church. We’re all a bunch of misfits. We all have weaknesses. We all have faults. We all have failures. But guess what? God still loves us and still wants to use us. God doesn’t use perfect people; God only uses faithful people who are committed to sharing God’s love with others.

Ultimately, when we choose to serve, when we choose to share God’s love, we are doing what God has called us to do. Author David Goetz puts it this way: “Finding our purpose comes not from the results of service but the act of obedience. No matter what the call…inner freedom comes as I pursue truth, justice, and righteousness without needing to be seen as right or needing to see the results I want.” In other words we serve because we have been served, and are called to do the same.

We welcome people in. We equip them. And then we send them out, not with stars on their bellies, but with compassion in their hearts. As this church moves into a time of transition, living out this mission statement becomes even more important for this congregation. You don’t stop being the church just because a minister leaves. You are still, and always will be, Community Christian Church. Welcome. Equip. Share. That is your mission.