January 23, 2005
First Sunday after the Epiphany

“And Jesus said to them, Follow me.”
Matthew 4:19

Let us pray:
We give you thanks, O God, for the church – your church and this church.  Where it is weak, strengthen it, where it is fearful, encourage it, where it is in error, correct it, where it is strong and hopeful, sustain it.  Save it from all small-mindedness and make it large enough to receive all of your people.

In your mercy now open your Word to our hearts and our hearts to your Word.

In the spirit of Jesus Christ, who calls us to become his disciples and to know both the cost and joy of discipleship.  Amen.

If you were here last week then you know that the invitation to follow Jesus is a theme of the Epiphany season.  Last week St. John told of the day Jesus said to Phillip, “Follow me.”  Come and see, check it out, give it a try.

Today in our Gospel reading St. Matthew tells of the day Jesus called to Peter and Andrew, James and John, “Follow me.”  And immediately they left their boats and followed him.

Epiphany:  Arise, shine, your light has come.  Walking in that light you are invited to follow Jesus Christ.

In the Gospels those first disciples respond quickly, leaving their boats and nets to rot on the beach.  But we would be wrong to believe that the swiftness of their response indicated that following Jesus was any easier for them than it is for you or for me.  We do not know what the disciples thought later.  Did they kick themselves for their impetuousness?  Unlike us, they did not know the rest of the story but they were willing to give up stability and security, to take a great risk in response to the simple invitation, “Come, follow me.”

It was Mark Twain who said, “It is not the stuff in the Bible that I don’t understand that troubles me.  It’s the stuff I understand very well that scares the living daylights out of me.”

What could be clearer than Jesus’ call to each of us, “Follow me and become my disciple”?  The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.  Arise, shine, for your light has come.  When faced with the brightness of God, who could fail to respond?

I

If we are to faithfully follow Jesus it calls for conversion or, if you prefer, transformation.  In the words of the old Gospel hymn: “Just as I am without one plea, I come, I come.”  The good news is that we can come to God exactly as we are, but we cannot stay as we are.  We are called to become new women and new men in Jesus Christ.

This is an appropriate day to look at conversation, for the universal Christian church has for centuries celebrated the conversion of St. Paul on this, the third Sunday following the day of Epiphany.  St. Paul, as you heard in the reading from the 9th chapter of the book of Acts, was converted on the road to Damascus.

We learn from reading the letters of Paul that for him conversion was a lifetime’s work.  Not for the “Born again” experience as the criterion for Christian discipleship which we hear so much abut these days, what I have come to think of as the “set it and forget it” mentality.  The work of conversion is a life-long enterprise.  It means that at your end you are meant to be what God means for you at your beginning, and that work goes on until you have gone on – nothing more, nothing less.

Conversion, transformation, is the task of the church, beginning with ourselves.  It is not uncommon for a church, as well as an individual, to need conversion and transformation.  For churches can also lose their way, forget their task and mission.  Conversion is the work of a lifetime, both for ourselves and for the church.  It is the process by which God allows us to discover early or late, fast or slow, who God is and who we are meant to be.  The risks are great, for it means we are to change and everything around us as well.  Conversation is interested not in continuity, but in discontinuity, and that can be very painful.  It is a life’s work.

One reason the church remembers the conversion of St. Paul is that we can see by his experience and example what God has in store for us.

II

The Statement of Faith of the United Church of Christ says it well: we are called into the church to know “both the cost and joy of discipleship.”  Unfortunately, but accurately, notice that the cost precedes the joy.  Part of the cost is the hard work and the risks associated with conversion and transformation.

I recently read of a pastor who spends most of her time ministering in nursing homes.  She was asked what it was like, pasturing in an environment where illness, depression and the sense of coming to the end of the life are very much in the air.  She said that from her experience she has learned that her captive audience, living in an ever-shrinking world, wanted at least two things from her sermons and messages.

First, people want to laugh, because laughter proves they are still alive.  There is something very important about laughter as a means by which God enters in and all fears and anxieties are temporarily suspended, and they laugh even though perhaps there is not a lot to laugh about.  Secondly, they want a word of hope so they will realize that no matter how lonely they might be, they are not alone and will not be alone.

It is strange in a way, but I believe God does slip in through laughter.  For God has done so right here several times in our Sundays together.  The work of conversation and transformation is obviously serious business, but it does not have to be solemn or sad or gloomy.

We do need constantly the word of hope that as we go about our task coming to know the cost and joy of discipleship, we do not rely on our own unaided strength, for God in Christ is with us, now and forever.

This constant proclamation of hope is one of the church’s claims to fame—perhaps the only claim we have, the only claim worth making.  “Arise, shine, for your light has come: Emmanuel God with you.”

As we approach the often hard and risky work of conversion and transformation, we do better both as individuals and as a church when we have a lively sense of vision, rather than drift and dream.  For as Scripture reminds us, “Where there is no vision the people perish.”  What vision do you have for your own life and for your life together as people of the Old South Church?

Scripture has a compelling vision of a people, a church, united in faith in Jesus Christ -- a church which lives in the world with the mindset of Jesus -- a church which is a converted, transformed community of servant leaders.

In our national life there seems to be a major disconnect between the 50 million dollar extravaganza of last week (the Inauguration) and the war in Iraq, with 100,000 Iraque casualties, 1,400 American  [?] with life-altering wounds.  Until our leaders are able to articulate a common vision which has greater consensus, the church certainly has one: a vision of faithful living, modeled on the example of Jesus.  A vision of a commitment to justice and peace; a vision of equality and inclusivity; a vision of reconciliation and healing.  It is the task for the church and of this church to keep this vision alive.

What does greatness mean for a nation?  It is clear that to define greatness only in terms of military might is a dead-end road.  True greatness is commitment to the moral mandates on which this nation was founded:  Liberty and justice for all, concern for the common good, not just for ourselves but the well-being of the world community of which we are a part.  Which means, among other things, not setting aside the terms of the Geneva Accords and making up the rules about torture and human rights as we go along.

What does greatness mean for a church?  I hope the magnificent history and location of this congregation will never prove to be seductive.  What makes a church great is embracing the most vulnerable, telling the truth even when it’s costly, showing mercy, honoring all people regardless of their status, speaking the truth in love to power.  To be great is knowing both the cost and joy of discipleship.  To be great, Jesus said,” is to be the servant of all.”

Conversion is not easy.  Transformation is hard work.  Change can be very difficult and even risky.  Discipleship is demanding.  Consequently, whatever church or group you are in, and especially among your families and friends, you will want to remember in the days ahead the lesson you learned from your mother and your kindergarten teacher, “play nicely with each other.”

Lord, make me kind.  The world is full enough of needless tears.  The hungry hearts are full enough of nameless fears.  To these no vision of your humanness appears.  Lord, make me kind.

Lord, make me think, for thoughtlessness has caused so much of needless woe, that thoughtless word of mine may grow and grow until the torrents made no thing can stay its flow.  Lord, make me think.

Lord, make me love, and place love’s sign upon the face of me, that loveless people may pause and turn and see a little of that love that comes from Thee.  Lord, make me love.

If you were to ask me, What is the greatest accomplishment of the church? My answer may surprise you, but I’ve given it considerable thought.  I would say the greatest accomplishment of the church is that it has survived.

Think of it.  The Church founded and inspired y the life of an unpublished and executed itinerant preacher; his followers contending against a pagan world and the might of the Roman Empire which persecuted them, determined to wipe them off the face of the earth, surviving in both good times and bad times, surrounded by such rival gods as materialism, pleasure, profit and power.

I smile when I read of establishments which advertise, “We have been in business at this location for over fifty years.”  The church has been about the task of ministry and service for over 2,000 years, this congregation for 336 years.

No one understands better than the people of the Old South Church in Boston how precarious this existence can be, having survived the desecration of your historic church home when the British occupied Boston, and several other very close calls.

It brings to mind the famous New Yorker cartoon in which a scientist, after filling the blackboard with a complicated formula, ends with the words “and then a miracle happens.”  A colleague observes, “I think there is a problem with your last step.”  Well, miracles happen over and again in the life of the church.  The miracle is that God does not give up on us.  God does not show up one day and say “That’s it, go on home, it’s all over.”  God sustains, redeems us, and comes to us in the person of Jesus Christ.

We have entered what is being celebrated as the Einstein Year, making the centenary in 1905 when he published three landmark papers: those which proved the existence of the atom, showed the validity of quantum physics and, of course, introduced the world to his theory of special relativity.  Not bad for a beginner.

We will be hearing many Einstein quotations in the days ahead, none any truer for the church than his words, “It’s not that I’m so smart; it’s just that I stay with the problems longer.”

God in God’s grace has seen to it that the church has staying power.  In the words of the Duracel battery ad with the little rabbit: The church has shown the courage to take a licking and keep on ticking.  This has very little to do with us; it has everything to do with the God who calls us into the church to know the cost and joy of discipleship, the God who is faithful and who strengthens and sustains.

The results of a recent study have been published in a book entitled Beyond the Ordinary.

Ten strengths which make for a strong church, a healthy congregation.  Is it size, worship style, leadership, clarity about mission, vision for tomorrow?  The conclusion of this survey of congregational life – which polled over 300,000 worshipers in over 2,000 congregations randomly selected throughout the country – is that strong congregations have multiple strengths which interact.  Factors in strong congregations, the authors of the study conclude, are: spiritual growth, meaningful worship, active participation by members, a sense of belonging, care for children and youth, focus on the community and a capacity for sharing the faith, welcoming new people, empowering leadership, and looking to the future.

These are all good things, but they are very high order.  How will they be attained?  By the grace of God and by people of faith working together, supporting and encouraging each other, giving generously, sharing their gifts and talents.

There is a story about a church in a small Vermont town which was building a new sanctuary. Someone had the audacity to go to the Roman Catholic priest and ask for a donation.  “John,” he said, “you know I can’t give money to build a Protestant church, but I tell you what I will do.  Here is a hundred dollars to help tear down the old one.”

This is how this church will go beyond the ordinary, by each person taking his or her place and doing his or her very best, for God deserves our best, our very best, and nothing less.

There is, as I trust you know, in the porch of this church a tablet that summarizes the then 200 year history.  It begins, “Preserved and blessed of God. . .”  This church throughout its long history has been preserved and blessed by God in order, in the words of scripture, so that in every way possible we may declare the wonderful deeds of God who called us out of darkness into God’s marvelous light.”

Will the way ahead be easy?  Of course not.  The historical record of the church in the world is eloquent on the subject of the hardship, suffering and trials the church has endured. We will not be spared even though our testing may be more in the form of apathy and indifference and the respectful hostility of our colleagues and friends.

We have been preserved and blessed, as our ancestors delighted to say, because God is not yet finished with us.  There is work to do and loads to lift; we are not here to dream and drift.  As in Longfellow’s immortal words, we are to act that each tomorrow finds us farther than today.

We may no longer dominate the horizon, surrounded as we are by the towers of commerce and materialism, but the horizon still dominates us and we set our minds and our hearts on the realm beyond that which we can see.

For faith always faces forward. We are a Pilgrim people and earth is not our home.  In the words of baseball’s Sparky Anderson, “I’ve got my faults, but living in the past is not one of them.  There’s no future in it.”  With the leadership of Nancy Taylor you will write a new and wonderful chapter in the long and faithful history of this church.  As Edwin Markham wrote, “I laugh and lift hand to the years ahead.  Come on.  I am ready for you.”

Or again in the words of the affirmation chiseled into the stone of the portico of this church, “The God who brought us thus far will continue to sustain us.”  Yes, ‘lead on, O King Eternal, we follow not with fears, for morning breaks like gladness where ere your face appears.” Arise, Shine – your light has come.

Recall if you will the inscription over the door of an English parish church attributed to one John Austin, which was put up in the time of the terrors of the English civil war, in the year 1653:

  When all things sacred were profaned
  Sir Robet Shirely baronet founded this church
  Whose singular praise it is to have done the best things
  In the worst times and hoped them in the most calamitous.

May God help each of us so to live, for it falls to us in 2005 to do the best things in the worst times and to keep hope alive.

Arise, shine, for your light has come.

In the spirit of Jesus Christ, our Lord, who calls us to follow him so at last we may come to know the cost and joy of discipleship.  Amen.
 

Note: January 23, 2005 was Carl Schultz's Last Sunday as Interim Senior Minister -- also the Sunday of the great blizzard of the season.

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