United Church of Christ (national site)
This is the first of a six sermon series on “What Matters?” to our church. And we start with “We are people of God’s Extravagant Welcome….”
What Matters? Part One
We Are People of God’s Extravagant Welcome
Matthew 25:34-45; Luke 19:1-10
When people first come to our congregation, they often ask what seems like a very reasonable question: “What do you believe in your church?” They are surprised, I think, when we often laugh as we try to explain that people in our pews hold a wide variety of theological convictions,
ranging from fairly traditional to very progressive. To tell the truth, we often feel rather embarrassed that we cannot answer more articulately, or at least more glibly.
But I think the problem is not the answer to this question, but the question itself. If you really want to know more about our congregation, and about the wider church of which we are a part, you need to ask this instead: “What matters to you?”
So starting today, I will be preaching six sermons about the convictions that matter to us. These are not the only things that matter to us, and I am sure that each of you will have a beloved belief that I do not preach about, and an unloved one that I do. I have taken these six from materials developed by our UCC Congregational Vitality team, and you can read more about them on the UCC website if you’re interested. All in all, I think they are a pretty good answer to the question, “What matters to our church?”
We begin the series with this statement: “We are people of God’s extravagant welcome.”
To tell the truth, that is not how we usually say it. We usually describe our church as a place of welcome because we offer extravagant hospitality. I hope that assessment is true, but whether or not it is accurate, it misses the point. There are lots of organizations and institutions that are welcoming, and lots of hospitable people.
What stands out for us is that we offer hospitality because we have experienced God’s extravagant welcome, and we want to share that experience with other people. Moreover, our experiences as people who have been welcomed give us the vision and the courage to offer hospitality to people who are not always welcomed in communities and churches.
In some sense, each one of us is Zacchaeus, the tax collector perched up in the sycamore tree, hoping to get a glance of Jesus. We are aware of all of our shortcomings and struggles (though we do our best to hide them), and sometimes it is hard to see over the top of our belief that everyone else is doing just fine. So we climb up a tree, hoping not to be noticed, and simultaneously hoping that someone will see that we could use a little help.
And one day, to our surprise, we are noticed. Jesus (or maybe you would say God or the Holy Spirit) steps up behind us, taps us on the shoulder, and announces that s/he is coming to our house for dinner. Maybe it happens in church (I always hope that will be the case), or maybe it will happen quietly one night at home, or on a walk in the arb, or on the way to work. Whenever and however it happens, we are as startled as Zacchaeus. Jesus not only welcomes us, he honors us – in the way of the culture of the Middle East – by coming as a guest. And even if we forget sometimes, from that moment we understand that we are beloved children of God, children who are called to follow Jesus, to lead lives of service, healing, and reconciliation, and to offer to everyone the same degree of extraordinary welcome that we have felt ourselves.
At that point, we find that we can look back with pride (the good kind of pride!) on the fact that our denominational ancestors have often been people of God’s extravagant welcome. They supported the anti-slavery movement; they founded more than 600 schools for freed slaves after the Civil War and trained the first African-American teachers. We are pleased to remember that our history includes the first women welcomed to ordained ministry (beginning with Antoinette Brown Blackwell, who was ordained almost exactly 156 years ago in South Butler, New York), the first openly gay man welcomed to ordained ministry (Bill Johnson, in Berkeley, CA in 1972), the first African-American president of a mainline denomination, and a vigorous Open & Affirming movement that has welcomed thousands of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender persons and many congregations into the UCC.
But let me remind you again, that what makes all of this important is not just what happened in all of these milestones, but why it happened. All of these acts of courageous religious leadership were grounded in the understanding that God’s holds every part of creation in love and esteem, including (but not limited to) every person. We heard it first in the book of Genesis when God spoke to Noah after the great flood to say,
“When the bow [the rainbow] is in the clouds, I will look upon it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth.” God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant which I have established between me and all flesh that is upon the earth.” [Genesis 9:16-17]
And while it is true that the Hebrew Scriptures often speak of Israel as the only people of God, there are also instances where God’s greater welcome can be heard. For example, when King Solomon built the great temple in Jerusalem, he spoke these words to God:
Likewise, when a foreigner, who is not of your people Israel, comes from a distant land because of your name – for they shall hear of your great name, your mighty hand, and your outstretched arm –when a foreigner comes and prays toward this house, then hear in heaven your dwelling place, and do according to all that the foreigner calls to you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your people Israel, and so that they may know that your name has been invoked on this house that I have built. [1 Kings 8:41-43]
We are heirs, then, to a long tradition of extravagant welcome, and we need to acknowledge that living into this tradition has not always been easy. Though we can celebrate all the “firsts” of the United Church of Christ, you know (or can imagine) that none of those actions was done with unanimous enthusiasm or even wide agreement. In each case, we (and our forbearers) have had to push against the common wisdom of the time (the wisdom that said some people deserved to be excluded or needed to be excluded) and to insist that God’s welcome was a more important value to uphold. Our calling to do that is not over, and it is no easier today than it has been in the past.
It is difficult, I think, in at least two ways. First, there are people around us who frighten us, make us uneasy, inconvenience us, and may even be a genuine danger to us. Seeing Christ in their faces requires spiritual discipline combined with safe practices that insure our churches are safe places for everyone to worship.
Second, God’s welcome includes much more than cordial greeting; God’s welcome includes attention to the needs that our neighbors bring. Careful discernment and sensible planning are needed for this kind of welcome. The uncomfortable truth is that Jesus calls us to these ministries, but does not instruct us about the best way to carry them out. Through the centuries nations and churches and families have wrestled with the question of how and when to care for the needy, the sick, and the prisoners among us – and we have found no simple or universal answer. The UCC Constitution proclaims that we are called to reclaim the faith in every generation, and I would add that we are called to reclaim and redefine discipleship in every generation, too.
When people ask what we believe in our church, they are expecting that we will answer by reciting a creed, and in a sense, that is what I am doing today and over the next few weeks. You see the original meaning of “creed” is not a set of theological precepts; when we say “credo” we are saying, “To this I give my heart.”
We give our hearts to what matters. And it matters that we are people of God’s extravagant welcome – it matters to us, and it matters to everyone who is longing to find a place of welcome, compassion, justice, and healing. May they find it in this place.
Prayer for September 13, 2009 (Homecoming)
Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.
God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.
God of all time and history, we come to you today in prayer for the all that September brings.
God of faith and learning, we ask your blessing for the teachers and students who are returning to their studies, for the staff who make their work possible, and for the families who support all of them. We pray for open and curious minds, careful scholarship, compassionate understanding, respectful analysis, and collaborative learning. Make our schools and colleges places where the truth does, indeed, set people free – free from prejudice, free from vengefulness, free from ignorance, and free to work for justice and peace.
God of the harvest, we pray today for farmers and farm workers, for all those who labor to bring food to our tables. Keep us mindful of the hard physical effort that is required, along with the gifts of soil, water, and sun, to keep us well fed. And empower us, we pray, to care for the workers and the land so that these blessings may come to our children and our grandchildren to many generations.
God of history, we pray today for those whose lives were disrupted by the tragic events of eight years ago on September 11, 2001. We remember those who died on that day, and those who continue to mourn their deaths. We remember the rescue workers and the terrible spiritual toll their work has taken on them. We remember the many industries and employees whose livelihood has been interrupted, and we remember our own fear, sadness, and anger as even our lives were changed. Be with us, we pray, as we continue to seek ways of peace in the midst of chronic anxiety and world unrest, and fill us with persistent hope in our search for your Shalom.
God of all the faithful, we dare to ask your blessing on the coming year for our church, and for all our programs of worship, nurture, care, and justice. Help us to see and hear, speak and act faithfully in your name, and to bring the good news of peace and hospitality to a world that is so hungry for both of these blessings.
All these things we pray in the name of the one who lived among us as our brother and lives among us still as our risen Savior, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray now together with words he taught us …
