"We Will Make Our Home with Them"

Texts: Acts 16: 13-15 and John 14: 23-27

Today we at Open Table celebrated our transition from being a new church start in the United Church of Christ to becoming a church in full standing.  Our Conference Minister, Rev. Tim Downs, and other special guests from the Southeast Conference worshiped with us.  We are grateful to have made our home with them!

The word home, found in both New Testament readings for today, is a welcome word for us on this Sunday as we celebrate the home we’ve found in the United Church of Christ. In the mystical language of John’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that he and “the Father” will make a home with those who love him.  In the earthier book of Acts, Lydia, the first European convert, invites Paul to stay in her home.  Making our home with others is sacred work.  Making a home with God is a spiritual disposition of trust and union.  Making a home with other people and with other parts of creation is our human calling of relatedness. Today, as Open Table formalizes our covenant relationship with the United Church of Christ, we are saying to one another, in the words from John’s Gospel, “We will make our home with them.” Making our home with another takes our relationship to a new level. It requires trust and presents risk but offers deeper connection. Today Open Table and the UCC officially move in together.  Which will require us to exchange some vows in a bit. 

In starting a church together, you and I have occupied several physical homes over the last four years. Initially we met in the Sims living room, then in a couple of store front buildings, and after that at two different host churches.  At whatever point in our brief history you joined us, it took courage.  Some of you risked disorientation by progressive theology that challenged old certitudes and invited you to ask questions.  Some of you risked rejection if the radical welcome we touted proved insincere.  Some of you risked your reputation as a proud skeptic by darkening a church door.  All of you risked giving up valuable time and complicating your lives in relationships with folks who were different from you. None of us knew if this faith community would be worth any of the work and risks. But you were intrepid souls, and for those who returned a second time, and a third, you proved you are able to journey without a map, able to build a ship while sailing it, able to make a home with diverse family members, able to love others in the Jesus way.  Regardless of where we’ve gathered, what has mattered is that we were growing in our love for God and others.

Besides determining from time to time where we would pitch our tent next, our founding group also had to discern with whom we’d make our home, denominationally speaking.  Open Table’s story began when a then American Baptist minister invited a handful of folks into a relationship with one another, not into a relationship with a denomination.  Our early members decided to start a church together before deciding if we would affiliate with a denomination. In our exploration of possible denominational homes, we soon came knocking on the door of the UCC, and Conference Minister Tim Downs answered. 

(Knock knock) “May we come in?” we asked the UCC, in the person of Rev. Downs. “You’ve never met any of us before. None of us has ever been a part of the UCC.  No one other than our pastor had even heard of the UCC until we started our research a few months ago. Our pastor is actually ordained by another denomination and that denomination has the word ‘Baptist’ in it.  But we think we might like to make our home with you.” 

God bless him.  Tim didn’t blanch and didn’t blink.  He didn’t twitch and he didn’t flinch. Not even when I had the effrontery to say, not quite this crassly, that another denomination offered us __ dollars for start-up costs if we wanted to birth a church under their banner. Tim and I had many conversations, and then he drove down from Atlanta to meet with us.

The more we learned about the UCC, the more we loved its proud history of social activism with courageous stands for justice and peace; its progressive outlook, radical inclusion, and diversity; it’s well-educated clergy and well-equipped laity; its congregational autonomy tempered by covenant relationships;  its edgy yet warm and often humorous personality—if a denomination can be said to have a personality; its call to be a united and uniting church with a heart for ecumenism and interfaith understanding. Although the UCC is grounded in Christian tradition, we judged it to be the most forward thinking of Christian denominations and so the best prepared to understand and support a congregation aiming to push the frontiers of the emerging Christianity and pioneer progressive Christianity in, of all places, Mobile, AL. 

Soon after Rev. Downs’ first visit, we threw in our lot with the United Church of Christ. We began the process to become, first, a ministry of the UCC as a new church start, and I began the process to convert my credentials and become a minister within the UCC.

Susan and Todd shared earlier what they appreciate about this denomination of the Still Speaking God. The UCC has already challenged us to live into these values.  For instance, early on we were invited—not required—to begin the process of becoming an Open and Affirming congregation to make very explicit our welcome of folks regardless of sexual orientation.  Through prayerful group discernment, we developed our ONA statement which is printed in every worship bulletin and on our website and elsewhere.  While in other denominations a liberal fringe of congregations and members are urging their denominations to include LGBT folks fully, the General Synod of the UCC leads out to encourage its congregations and members to take difficult stands on, for instance, marriage equality. The UCC has already prodded us, Open Table, to make good choices for our congregational health and for those on society’s margins.  I am thankful to serve in a denomination moving out there ahead of us or at least standing alongside us and not holding us back as we move into God’s hopeful future. I want a denomination that’s not lagging behind the people in the pews who see inequities they long to address. As the UCC has welcomed us into this denominational home, so we want to welcome others to Open Table with equal warmth and inclusion.  Like Lydia, who immediately after her baptism invited Paul to enjoy the hospitality of her home, we, who’ve experienced the welcome of the UCC, want to invite others to make their home with us. 

But if I may be so bold, I would also like to say that our small congregation has something to offer the United Church of Christ in this covenant relationship.

We—and other new churches like us—offer a spirit of experimentation that may be needed if Christianity is to remain vital.  The UCC is ahead of the curve in terms of social justice and progressive theology.  But how do our progressive values and theology get translated into the life of individual congregations?  New churches like ours are experimenting with liturgy and polity in our new settings.  New faith communities like Open Table are not mired in years of traditions, so we can consider new ways of organizing our “home” together: new ways of praying and singing and leading and serving, new ways of making decisions and learning and teaching, new implications for progressive theology.  We actually LIKE change (most of the time) because the life of faith is a spiritual adventure for us.  And since we’re still small and young, we are agile.  We can change how we do things more quickly than other congregations.  We believe our denomination “gets” that about us and wants to hear reports on our experiments out here in the hinterlands.  Churches like ours are already flavoring the UCC. But to make sure that we are really living in the same household, we’ll be careful to communicate well and fellowship often so that our geographical distance from Atlanta and Cleveland does not turn us into the crazy cousin who lives in the basement. 

I’ve been speaking mainly about concrete ways we have been making a home within the United Church of Christ and within Open Table.  Let me also speak of the mystical meaning of making our home with God. After all, our mission as a church is not to further the kingdom of the UCC, which is a spiritual means, not an end.  Our aim is not to add mere numbers to Open Table but to grow by deepening our own spirits and strengthening our communion here as we serve others.

There’s so much to unpack in John’s notion that God makes a home in us. I have time to make this point only: the idea of God as our home is a mystical way of breaking down the barrier between God who is out there and God who is in me.  Meister Eckhart, a14^th century Christian mystic, said, “God’s being is my being and is the being of all beings.  My me is God”[i]   Locating God within is an experience of spiritual oneness. Jesus told his first disciples that he had transcended the notion of God being “out there”—in the temple, on a high mountain, separated from certain people.  Instead, Jesus’s mystical experience of the divine taught him his own divinity. Which he wanted his followers to experience, also.  God can make God’s home within you, too. 

We’ve used John’s lofty Christology to deify Jesus, but John emphasizes that within each of us dwells the divine love, which is the realest power and ultimate goal.  The Jesus revealed in John’s Gospel shows us that learning to love makes in us a home for God, which is a home that contains the whole world.  In his “farewell address” from John 14, Jesus tells the disciples, “Those who love me will keep my word, and my father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” Then he says that, though he must leave them, God’s spirit of peace remains for them.  So don’t be afraid, he says. Love creates in us a place where God dwells.  Peace walks forth with us as we invite others into our home.  Thanks be to God.

Prayer: You who welcome all, dwell among us as a community, that we may love more deeply. You who are our truest home, dwell in each of our hearts, that we may live out of our own sacredness and our union with all.

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[i] Qtd. in Eternal Life: A New Vision by John Shelby Spong, p. 158 in  Kindle.

For Earth Day: No Evacuation Plan

TEXT:  Revelation 21: 1-6

A mournful Gospel hymn reminds us not to get too attached to this ol' world:

This world is not my home. I'm just passing through.

My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.

The angels beckon me from heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

Science agrees that humanity may be just passing through. Some believe our survival as a species may depend upon our eventual ability to leave this earth to find a habitable planet elsewhere--in a new heaven and on a new earth.  I’m guessing we are many centuries away from being able to relocate the human race. In the meantime, climate change or unintended consequences of biogenetics or nuclear holocaust could eradicate our own species and most forms of life. God knows we need to be doing all we can to prevent the death of this dear earth by our own foolish hands.  But the truth is that even if we survive our own stupidity, violence, and selfishness, Planet Earth will not last forever.  Perhaps earth will be destroyed by a rogue star named Gleise 710, predicted to enter our galaxy in 1.5 billion years.[i] If that doesn't happen, it's just a matter of time—a matter of an estimated 7.6 billion years—until our sun will expand to the point that it absorbs the earth.[ii]  Maybe you’re not too worried about what might happen billions of years from now in circumstances we cannot prevent. After all, we need to focus on saving our planet from current threats we can address. My point is simply that scientific evidence concurs with the biblical vision that, one way or another, this world will pass away eventually.

Like modern cosmology, the book of Revelation holds out an apocalyptic vision of earth's destruction. The penultimate chapter in Revelation envisions the ultimate chapter in earth’s history when the heavens, the earth, and the seas will cease to exist (Rev. 21:1,2).  Thankfully, the hopeful biblical writer also imagines a NEW heaven and earth.

But let's not give up on the old heaven and earth too soon. And what I really mean by that is let’s not misunderstand a hope for a new earth as a devaluing of this one. Let’s not actively or passively cooperate in destroying God’s handiwork.  Let’s not be careless with one earth because we think God has an easy breezy back up plan.  Let’s not forsake our sacred role as stewards of the earth because we think God has spare earths up his or her sleeve.  Let’s not overly spiritualize and personalize the Gospel by seeing it, in Brian McLaren’s words, as “an evacuation plan” to a heaven far away, or as “fire insurance” from hell’s torture. The Gospel that Jesus offered is not about escaping from this world but about transforming it by the power of God’s loving spirit. The incarnation of Christ—Divine Love taking on human flesh—is a story of the Sacred permeating this physical plane of existence. The Christ event shows us how to give ourselves for the sake of this world—which God so loved.

This world IS my home—and yours.  In fact, the “new heaven and earth” are what we’re supposed to be co-creating with God.  The “new heaven and earth” are a vision of what might be possible if we treat this planet as “the home of God” (verse 3).  This “new heaven and earth” will be visible when God “dwell[s] with [us] as our God” (verse 3).  How differently we will live if we truly grasp what it means to make of this earth a home fitting for God. Would we make God feel at home with us by harming what God created? By clear cutting forests?  By polluting the air and water?  By exploiting other human beings?  By killing animals into extinction? By valuing profit over compassion? No.  No more than you would welcome an honored guest in your home by serving poison at the meal and piling filth into the guest room. Once we learn how to make room for God in this earth, it will seem that the old earth passes away and we’ll be able to see a new earth because we’ve been able to live in a new way. 

Maybe we can read the last book of the Bible most wisely by being grounded in the first.  Genesis teaches that we are charged with caring for creation.  Genesis teaches that all creation has been declared “good” by God.  All creation is sacred.  But other scriptures reveal commandments that protect the earth. For instance, the commandment to keep the Sabbath gives needed rest both to humans and to animals used for human labor.  The earth is further protected by lesser known biblical  instructions, including this odd injunction from Deuteronomy 20:19: “When you lay siege to a city for a long time, fighting against it to capture it, do not destroy its trees by putting an ax to them, because you can eat their fruit. Do not cut them down. Are the trees people, that you should besiege them?"  (Deut. 20:19). On first glance this verse seems more sympathetic to the trees than the humans.  Written from the perspective of a warrior culture, this warning against destroying trees prevents short-term expediency (maybe cutting down the trees for a tactical advantage during a battle or simply displaying wanton rage) from preserving long-term benefits of nature.  A new heaven and a new earth are possible if we see this earth as sacred. [iii]

The New Testament likewise declares the things of this physical world to be sacred.  From the book of Acts we read today that “what God has made clean, you must not call profane.”  The context of that verse is a vision Peter had at a time when uncircumcised Gentiles were becoming part of the Church. Since the first Jesus followers had all been Jews, as was Jesus, the addition of Gentiles complicated their understanding of who and what was considered holy. In Peter’s vision, a sheet descending from heaven held “unclean” animals which Jewish dietary law forbids. Yet in this vision God’s voice directed Peter to eat them.  Peter interprets this to mean that all that God has created is “clean.”  (By the way, this story is not an argument against vegetarianism, which is a way to care for the earth.) Peter’s dream means that God has made this world clean, so we must not treat it as unholy.  The way we treat creation has eternal consequences.

At the Trialogue's most recent interfaith symposium, I spoke on the topic of Christian eschatology, the branch of theology that teaches about “last things.” I'd been invited to join two other colleagues, an imam and a rabbi, as we offered our respective religion’s eschatological perspective.  I’d have preferred a different topic for a general audience who might assume the Bible predicts when the world will end. My “eschatology” emphasizes what is ultimate and what is lasting. The way we ask and answer these eschatological questions forms us psychologically, morally, spiritually. At its essence, Christian eschatology says that we come from God and we return to God. But I didn't think I could say much in the fifteen minutes allotted me to counter the message of those silly Left Behind books and movies and the idea of a "rapture" concocted in the 19^th and 20^th century by fusing together a smattering of unrelated scriptures into a countdown for the End of all Time.  So I boiled down Christian eschatology to this faith statement:  I hold a deep trust that what is ultimate is good and what is lasting is love. 

However, I wish I’d added one more thing:  Despite the words to a traditional spiritual that says "This world is not my home," I think this planet is our only home for a long, long time.  Or at least we need to treat it as such. 

Because the worst Christian eschatology has developed from a greedy and short-sighted justification to despoil our terrestrial home. 

Eschatology matters because it affects how we live today.  Theology is good only if it produces good ethics.  Bad theology has produced and excused an ethic of domination and thoughtlessness and disregard for other creatures and for the next generations of our own species.  One prevailing Christian system of thought treats this world as something fearsome or loathsome or maybe just unimportant.  If we're too ready to escape from this planet, we may not be so careful about how we treat it now.  

Eschatology that is a spiritualized escape plan from earth came from a people who, maybe understandably, gave up on this planet.

Don’t give up on planet earth.  We’re accustomed to using up things and then discarding them. Let’s not do that with our home. 

Don’t give up on planet earth.  On a spring day like today, earth’s powers of renewal are especially in evidence. Let’s remember they are not inexhaustible.

Don’t give up on planet earth.  When violence erupts, we can see how easily this globe could turn into a powder keg. Let’s not allow fear to win out over love.

Don’t give up on planet earth. When relationships with friends and family are strained, we may want to run away. But earth’s people are precious. Let’s know deep in our souls that people are not disposable and relationships can be restored and deepened.

Don’t give up on planet earth.  When the intricate systems that hold together our economies, governments, cultures are working against the equally intricate ecological systems, take a stand. The saving of planet earth takes concerted efforts.  It’s helpful to limit your individual carbon footprint, but it’s crucial to work with others to create greener laws and policies and encourage other systemic change. 

Don’t give up on planet earth.  When we see the Church’s track record on environmental stewardship, we may think the church itself is irredeemable. Though faith communities are imperfect, we are ripe for revival at this hinge time in world history.  Christians are relearning humanity’s fundamental oneness with creation and thus going deeper with God the Creator, Sustainer, and Uniter of all that is.

If we love God, we will love the home God created for us and we will want God to live among us.  And when that happens the old heaven and earth—that have existed as separated realms—will pass away.  When God makes a home among us—a new heaven and earth will reintegrate the spiritual and physical. 

I’d earlier said how differently we will live if we truly grasp earth’s sacredness. I add we must also grasp the earth’s interconnectedness.  These two spiritual truths can change everything.  Losing the false notion of our self-containment and appreciating instead the interdependence of bacteria, mountains, elephants, oxygen, orchards, swamps, and parakeets is essential for our spiritual growth and for physical survival. 

When we truly “get” that what happens to me happens to you, we will be living in a new heaven and a new earth. Then WE will hear “a loud voice from the throne saying, 'See, the home of God is among mortals. God is dwelling with them; they are God’s people, and God will wipe every tear from their eyes. . . for the first things have passed away. . . . See, I am making all things new.'”

PRAYER:  Saving God, save us from profaning your world with our disconnection and disregard.  Guide us to treat this earth as holy, a fitting place for you to dwell. Amen

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[i] http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=star-set-to-collide-with-solar-syst-2010-03

[ii] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Future_of_the_Earth

[iii] http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/episodes/april-19-2013/religion-and-the-environment/15953/    See Rabbi Dobb's commentary on this verse in Deuteronomy.

Guided Meditation: Psalm 23

Image of the earliest extant picture of Jesus, painted on the ceiling of the catacombs. One might have expected an early image of Jesus to be that of Jesus on the cross or Christ crowned in glory, but instead we see the early Christians depicted him as the good shepherd.

On the third Sunday of each month, Open Table's worship service is contemplative.  We pray with scriptures, songs, and silence and usually, instead of a sermon, I offer a guided meditation.  I'm including excepts from today's service and our guided meditation on Psalm 23.

Prayer of Invocation                                  

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. (Psalm 23: 1-3 KJV)

Caring God, many have traveled through a difficult week.  In these moments you invite us to rest here as if we were lying down in green pastures. Welcoming God, lead us now beside still waters to restore our souls—frightened souls, weary souls, troubled souls.

Prayers of Thanksgiving       
The Lord is my Shepherd; I have received all I ever needed in the past.

            We express gratitude for what we have received in the past. . .

The Lord is my Shepherd; I have everything I need now - at this moment.

We express gratitude for what we have in this moment. . .

The Lord is my Shepherd; I have everything I will ever need - for all time.

            We express gratitude for that which endures. . .

Extending the Psalm

As you silently reread the psalm, notice the shift in metaphors. God is first compared to a shepherd.  But in verse 5 God is implicitly compared to something else.  Some see a third image for God in verse 6.  Focus on the image that speaks best to you.  Why does that image of the Divine call to you?  Try developing the psalm further around that particular image. Compose your own prayer that you address to this image of God.        

Guided Meditation (verses 1-5)

We return to the first verse of our Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.”  What are the “wants” in your life?  What’s your wish list—of things you desire?  What’s your bucket list—of things you hope to accomplish or attain?   Take a moment to write them down.  (PAUSE)

The first want list is your wish list: what you want to have. The second want list is your bucket list: what you want to do or be.  Now maybe, like most of us, you desire some things that are not healthy for you, and you know that, but probably your list mainly includes good desires and noble aspirations—along with maybe some morally neutral desires and some harmless if petty wants.  What would it mean to be guided, not by ego, but by Love and Goodness alone, and to follow so trustingly that your wish list disappeared?  This does not mean you would live without goals or direction or aspirations.  But to follow God like a sheep following a shepherd is a spiritual state of radical trust. That kind of dependence upon God’s compassion is a rejection of what others tell us is important.  And it allows us to live without wanting, wanting, wanting. It brings an end to envy, lust, greed, competitiveness, aggression.  It keeps us from judging ourselves and defining ourselves by what we attain so that we can instead come to love ourselves for the inner Light within.  Look at your wish list, your bucket list.  Many of these things are not bad things.  They are harmful if these things become our shepherd directing us and if they are not things of ultimate value.  If we attend to the leadership of the Good Shepherd, who can lead us beside still waters, ours spirit we can be led down the right paths and our souls restored.

Now to focus on verse 4.

⁴Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me. (NRSV)

I imagine there have been many this week who have walked through the darkest valley of their lives—when a fertilizer plant exploded in the darkness of a Texas night, when bombs and bullets traumatized people in Boston.  But you have known dark valleys of your own.  The psalmist says that even in the dark times, God’s rod and staff dispel fear and offer comfort.  That doesn’t mean evil things are prevented or undone.  It means if we are guided by the God of love, then love can drive out fear and bring comfort.  Think about a recent time when you let fear guide you.  Could you have chosen love over fear in that situation?  How might things have gone differently?  Imagine some future situation where someone seems threatening to you.  Imagine choosing love over fear because you know that God leads by love alone—and only love can bring comfort. Fear leads us to have the last word, to lash out, build walls, crush another’s spirit, feed our ego.  These are choices we make when we fear, and there is no comfort there.  Love alone can lead to comfort.  The shepherd’s rod and staff offer steady guidance and rescue. 

We read now verse 5.

⁵You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (NRSV)

You are invited now to move forward to our three prayer stations through which we will explore verse 5.

PRAYER STATIONS

1.    Receive an anointing

“You anoint my head with oil”     

In the Ancient Near East, oil was used to heal the sick and anoint priests and kings for their special roles.  While letting today’s psalm speak to you, you’re invited to come forward to be anointed with oil as a prayer for God’s healing or in commitment to God’s calling.  You may speak with the pastor and quietly share a need for healing or a sense of God’s calling in your life.  The pastor will then touch your forehead with oil and offer a blessing for you.

 

2.    Receive holy communion

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”

Some have understood the above phrase to mean that God rescues us from enemies and then blesses us to spite them.  But Jesus said to love our enemies. So let’s imagine what it means to eat at Christ’s table with “enemies” present.  In the Ancient Near East, those who were invited to the table were promised safety and hospitality.  At Christ’s table, enemies become our guests.  Let us use the shared meal today to imagine that someone from whom we feel separated is actually here and to make space at our hearts’ table for those we distrust, dislike, or disdain.  Let this meal be a spiritual means of turning enemies into friends and turning bread into the body of Christ.  The broken bread reminds us of humanity’s brokenness.  But at the open table that body is remembered . . . re-membered . . . and we become one body.  As you eat the wafer, imagine sharing it with someone for whom you seek greater compassion.

3.    Bring your offerings

“My cup overflows”

We exercise our faith and we practice a life of gratitude by sharing what we have.  Through the eyes of faith, we see that our cup overflows and we have all that we need and more.  By giving time, money, and abilities to and through the ministry of Open Table, we have the chance to support our new faith community that seeks to join in God’s work for love, peace, and justice.  Your giving is an act of prayer. As you place an envelope in the offering plate, you are praying.

We turn to the final verse of Psalm 23: 

 ⁶Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.(NRSV)

One commentator explains that the Hebrew word we translate as “follow” actually means something more like “pursue” or “run after.”  Goodness and mercy are chasing us down! Goodness and mercy are not ambling along behind us but are a concerted energy directed toward us. Picture, if you will, two messengers named Goodness and Mercy chasing us down.  If we can just slow down sometimes, goodness and mercy might be able to catch up with us. God’s love is pursuing us.  Like a gracious parent, God calls us back home for supper.  I love the final verse of one musical setting of this psalm: 

Your sure provisions, gracious God, attend me all my days. 

O may your house be my abode, and all my work be praise.

Here would I find a settled rest, while others go and come.

No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home.

The psalm ends by describing another relationship we have with God—not as a stranger, not even as guest, but as a child at home.  This worship service ends as it began—with a psalm that stills our spirits so we can experience the comfort of God.  Amen