Acts 3:1-10
June 17, 2012
One day Peter and John were going up
to the temple at the hour of prayer, at three o’clock in the afternoon. And a
man lame from birth was being carried in. People would lay him daily at the
gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate so that he could ask for alms from
those entering the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the
temple, he asked them for alms. Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and
said, “Look at us.” And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive
something from them. But Peter said, “I have no silver or gold, but what I have
I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.” And he
took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and
ankles were made strong. Jumping up, he stood and began to walk, and he entered
the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God. All the people saw
him walking and praising God, and they recognized him as the one who used to
sit and ask for alms at the Beautiful Gate of the temple; and they were filled
with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.
I don’t know if you are aware of this or not, but not
only do we live in a culture of trends, but we are part of a church of trends.
You may not notice it as much in the church because often the trends have to do
with how pastors work and lead, what the church emphasizes in its program and
ministry, and how it worships (which is the trend that’s the most obvious).
I’ve been a pastor now for almost 24 years, and in that
time I’ve seen the Presbyterian Church, and others like it, move through a
number of trends. When I was in seminary the big trend was the “pastoral care”
movement. This was a trend sparked by the rise of popularity of psychology and
counseling in the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. The emphasis was on the idea that the
main focus of the church should be to care for people as they go through
difficult times, with the understanding that people are always kind of going
through difficult times. So, the role of the pastor, under this model, is to
visit everyone in the church at least once a year, and to be primarily the
counselor-in-residence.
This trend was modified by another in the late 80s and
early 90s: the evangelism trend. This trend taught that the church had to reach
out more in order to bring people into the church. We were shrinking as a
denomination, and the focus was to find ways to get people interested in coming
to our churches. So they created a lot of programs such as the
“bring-a-friend-to-church” Sunday, with the idea that if we each brought a
friend, the church would grow again. The role of the pastor was to be the
person who created the context in which people wanted to join the church. So we
were to visit prospective new members and spearhead the outreach.
As we moved into the 90s and 2000s, the big trend was the
contemporary church movement, which not only meant creating and offering
contemporary worship, but creating a church that is up-to-date technologically
in every way.
Now there’s a new trend. It’s called the “missional
church” movement, and I invite you to find out more about it by watching the
video at this web address: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=arxfLK_sd68
If you watched the video, it suggests that we have become
too self-centered in the church, expecting everything to revolve around church
programs within the building. The emphasis is that we each are to become
missionaries in our homes, workplaces, with friends, and the like, and we are
to open people up to God’s presence.
I agree with this missional trend. In fact, I’ve agreed
with most trends. Often they are balancing out something that was neglected
previously. So the pastoral care trend was a response to churches that had
become way too dry and theological in the 1950s. The evangelism trend was a
response to shrinking churches that had become a bit shut off to outsiders. The
contemporary trend was a response to church worship that had become too staid
and not as welcoming to non-Christians. The missional church movement is a
trend that’s a response to churches focusing too much on what’s going inside
the church, and not enough on what was going on in the world.
We were part of this missional trend even before it became
a trend. You’ve been hearing me express the ideas of this trend ever since I
came to Calvin Presbyterian Church. Each Sunday I’ve given a prayerful
benediction in which I’ve charged all of us to take what we’ve heard in church
and make it part of our homes, work, friendships, and everything else. I’ve
charged you with going out and becoming Christ-bearers and light-bearers in the
world in ways that only we can do, and to do so wherever we are.
What I find difficult about the missional church movement
is its either/or emphasis. Like many
trends before it, it tends to see itself as THE answer to what ails the church.
I rarely take an either/or approach
to life. I tend to take a both/and
approach, which in this case would mean being both pastoral and evangelical,
both traditional and contemporary, both church-focused and missional at the
same time. The point is that as Christians, and as members of this church, we
need to emphasize both on the mission and ministry of this church, and on being
Christ’s presence in the world. That doesn’t mean that during your lunch break
you need to sit down with your co-workers and say, “Have you heard the word of
Jesus?” Instead, it means seeing everything you do as a way of serving God,
including how we treat others.
Since Pentecost, we’ve been talking about how all of us
are called by the Spirit to become apostles, to serve in ministry, and to serve
in mission. To complete this idea, it’s important for us to recognize that we
are also called to serve everywhere we are. We ARE Christ’s hands, feet, eyes,
ears, and mouths in the world. Wherever you are, that’s your mission field, and
you are called by God to serve Christ in it.
A heard a great way of thinking about this several years
ago from one of our members. What he said was quite profound. He was talking
about how he had changed his approach to faith. For years he would come to
church, pray, think about religious things, but when he went to work he would
hang his faith on a hook while hanging up his coat. What changed in his life
was when he decided to leave his faith on throughout the workday, and not hang
it up with his coat.
After hearing me mention what he said in this sermon last
Sunday, he wrote me more profound stuff in an email. He said, “I no longer feel that way about hanging up
my faith when I hang up my coat at work. For years I have truly hated my
job and my company and was miserable. I tried on many occasions to find other
opportunities, mostly somewhere else in the country, and nothing ever worked
out. So I began to reflect on this and decided that for whatever reasons
that I did not understand that God wanted me in this position. So rather
than just feel sorry for myself I began to listen and learn that other of my
co-workers were also feeling some of the same things that I was (although not
to the same degree), and I began to ponder what I could do to help them.
While I didn’t really feel that I could do anything for myself, I came to
believe that God would want me to help others, especially for the folks who
work for me. Over time I really feel that I have made contributions to
making others more satisfied, more engaged and more happy in what they are
doing and feeling about themselves. Then I realized that by doing this
that I was actually helping myself and how I viewed everything in
general. While I still am not in love with my job/company, it is much
better and I also have seen myself grow more as a mentor and it has also opened
up new opportunities for me such as my two trips overseas to help out a
struggling operation there. This has been a blessing!!”
Whenever I hear people complain, or ask, where is God
during difficult times, I know the answer. The answer is that God is in the
hands and feet and love of those who help out those going through difficult
times. Christians have been God’s hands and feet in the aftermath of Hurricane
Katrina, the tsunamis in the Pacific, the tornadoes in Missouri and elsewhere,
and in Haiti. It is often Christians who stay and work after governments have
gone away. You are God’s hands and feet anytime you not only care for people
somewhere else, but care for someone who is grieving, struggling, hurting, or
ill.
To give you a different perspective on how we are God’s
hands and feet, I’m going to invite our associate pastor, the Rev. Connie
Frierson, to finish this sermon:
This
is a tag team sermon. Graham started it
and then tag. I’m it. That is so
appropriate for mission because mission is not a solo service. Mission is done with friends and partners and
it is meant to be done by everyone.
As
I read today’s passage from Acts. something struck me about Peter and John.
There they are doing their normal, ordinary thing, going to the temple for the
3:00 prayer service. How routine this
was, a good routine, but a routine nonetheless.
You all know how we rely on doing the habits we do. If you go to the early service most don’t
switch to the later service. If you go
to the 11:00 service, you almost never go to the early service. We are all creatures of habit. Peter and John
had a habit of prayer. Prayer is a holy habit that trained them to listen to
God. But habit alone is not enough for the Christian life. Habit done by rote can lead to a deadening of
spirit. The habit of prayer should do just the opposite. Regular prayer should lead us to see the
spirit of God calling in the ordinary moment.
In
this passage of scripture Peter and John were not doing the ordinary everyday
stroll past the Beautiful Gate. On this day they noticed the man who was always
there, always with his hand out for alms, always in the same place. The bible says Peter looked intently at the
man and so did John. I wonder what Peter
and John experienced. Was it a clarion
bell of God’s call to heal this man? Was
it a gentle whisper that they strained hard to hear? Was it an intuition so soft and indistinct
that they just needed to go on a hunch, a God hunch? We will never know which of these most
likely describes the moment. But
whatever it was Peter and John became intently aware of this man and his needs
and God’s power to heal.
When
God spoke to me about mission it wasn’t with Charlton Heston’s Godlike voice.
But it wasn’t a vague intuition either.
It was more like a stage whisper.
But what I heard was “PSSSST, Follow me, Serve me.” What I didn’t hear was specifics of where,
when, who or how. I remember coming to Graham’s office to talk about God’s
distinct but unspecific call. I remember wailing, “But what if God sends me to
Calcutta, I DON’T WANT TO GO TO CALCUTTA!” Graham shared some wisdom with me.
He said that God probably wouldn’t send me to Calcutta, or if God did, then
when I received that call I would be ready for it. But with a husband, two
small children and a farm, Calcutta didn’t seem like a likely fit. Many of you know how this story goes on. I wasn’t sent to Calcutta. I was sent to
Callery, a little community just over the hill from my farm. I was called to be a hospice volunteer. I was
matched to volunteer with a woman who was an elderly twice-removed cousin,
whose daughter was a Presbyterian minister. This first Hospice assignment was
really a call to help family. This was a
call to serve in my own backyard.
This
is the way mission and God’s call often works.
We fear the big call to do the impossible task for God far away and at
great personal sacrifice. But often what God wants you to do is just go across
the street. There are many, many short steps that prepare us for the long jump.
But be warned. Once you step out your
door for God, you step onto a slippery slope.
You never know where that small first step will lead you. In my case it
looked like a simple visit with my cousin Jean. But it turned into a passion to
be with people who are on the sacred ground as they approach the end of this
life. Then that led to wanting to do it
more, then better, then more deeply. So
I went to retreat that told me to go out to the deep water of faith. Then I
took a course in Spiritual Disciplines. Then I enrolled in seminary. The I
graduated and was ordained. God didn’t
want me to go to Calcutta. God wanted me to go to Callery, then Calvin. Maybe
Calcutta is still waiting in my future. One simple hometown mission will lead
you to the next and the next. This is
what looking intently with God’s Spirit will do for you.
I
have learned a lot about mission from a friend of mine, Val Rabosky. I met Val about five years ago at the
YMCA. It was about a year after my
husband, Allen’s death. I started walking at the YMCA. Val was one of my walking partners. Val was in his early 80’s so we were well
matched as exercise pals. Val is one of
those unique people who not only shares his own stories but really listens to
yours too. So we learned about each
other’s lives. Val is a man with a deep
faith, who has worked hard and enjoyed life.
He has been active in church life.
He has been a camp director for Christian summer camp and remembers and
wonders about some of the youngsters he counseled at camp. He has collected
food for families when times were hard. He has been a good friend. Val has been
a faithful Christian for so long that there is not much I can see in his life
that is separated from following Jesus. Val is a combination of those holy
habits of prayer, worship and study and the spontaneous opportunity to share
God’s love.
In
the past Val has been part of mission that goes outside and does things. Now Val’s mission is closer to home and
deeper. Over two years ago Val was
diagnosed with Mesotheolomia, a lung cancer associated with asbestos. This
diagnosis hasn’t changed the fundamental nature of Val’s faith. This part of life is just a further piece
down the road Val has trod all his life.
Val thinks in terms of mission and work for God even at the end of life.
Here is what I mean:
With
a cancer like Mesotheolomia, there are a mountain of lawsuits and a battalion
of lawyers that come in tow. Val is
unique in that his memory was so astonishingly clear and cogent. He remembered every job he ever worked. He remembered the years, the companies, and
the sub contractors and if you pressed him he could probably remember the
foreman, supervisors and the union rep.
Val was a treasure trove of information about asbestos and work
issues. In one week Val submitted to
four days of depositions, by tons of lawyers.
The deposition was held in a local hotel ballroom, so that all the
lawyers and stenographers and camera people and cyber conferencing could go
on. This was a tremendous pressure on a
sick man. But Val did these lengthy
depositions not just for the welfare of his own family, but for others. Val said, “ A lot of guys can’t remember, or
they get too sick or they die before they can to tell their story. So partly,
I’m doing this for the guys.” This is mission. Telling your story clearly and well helps
others. Val understood that.
Even
before Val got sick he thought of a smile and a simple “Hello” as mission. He
once told me, “You never know what difference a smile can make.” Val offered
friendship to anyone who wanted to chat with him. When Val was not able to do his usual workout
at the YMCA he would come to say hello and wish people well. As he sat in chairs outside the weight room,
Val would greet whoever came by. I know he knew who was having financial
problems, marital difficulty or health problems. Because he was connected and he cared enough
to ask questions. Val spread goodwill.
He was the unofficial mayor of the Cranberry YMCA. This is mission.
Val
most profoundly looked on his dying as mission.
Val said to me, “I’m a little surprised by the number of people who
don’t understand that I will be happy to die.”
As people asked Val about his health they would have sympathetic long
faces. But Val would always remind them
that he was going home, that God was calling.
God had made promises to Val. Val knew God was going to keep them. So
Val took his dying time as a mission time.
I can see him poking someone with his finger and reminding them dying in
the Lord is not a bad thing, but a graduation day to the best thing.
This
is a life that looks at mission broadly and such a life calls us to think about
our mission. So I’m going to ask you to
look at your hands. Go ahead, right now
spread your hands in front of you and look hard. You think these are your hands. You think these hands are to do your work for
your interests, do your hobbies and fulfill your wants and needs. But that is not so. These hands are God’s
So
put up one of those hands now. Because TAG!
Your it. Go and serve.
Amen.
