The Mayberry Preacher

THE ONLY SIDE THAT MATTERS

1 Corinthians 1: 10-18; Matthew 4: 12-22
Steve Lindsley
January 23, 2011

Paul knew that there was a problem.  A huge problem.  He knew it as he sat down to write his letter; a letter he dreaded writing because sometimes it is hard to tell the ones you love what it is they need to hear. He knew there was a problem the minute he walked out the door of the Corinthian church; a church he had partnered with in ministry for years.  And despite the relationships and ties he had built with the people there as they served God together, Paul still knew there was a problem.  And he knew he was going to have to do something about it.

Even as he crafted the opening lines of his letter – standard greeting and common courtesy kind of stuff – even as he did that, Paul’s mind was thinking ahead to how he would say it – the words he’d choose to convey his heart.  Words of compassion and love, but strong words to let them know how horrified he was by what he had seen.  A church, such a vibrant and strong church, literally being torn apart.

And it was sad, really sad.  There was a special place in Paul’s heart for the Corinthian church.  Corinth was a seaport town, constantly bustling with activity and commerce.  A perfect place for a community of faith to flourish.  And for years the church there had done just that. That is, until petty differences and squabbles began getting in the way.  Simple disagreements became larger ones; the proverbial mole hill morphing into a mountain.  And with the disagreements and discord came the inevitable: everyone had a side they were on; everyone busy determining who was “in” and who was “out.”  And it was always the other guy who was wrong, of course; the other “side” that needed to be set right.

Paul had all of this rolling around in his head as he put pen to paper, or quill to parchment as it were, and began to write.  He wasn’t going to try and ease into it – that just wasn’t his style.  He was going to come right out and say what needed to be said.  Listen again to his words, this time from The Message translation:

I have a serious concern to bring up with you, my friends.
I’ll put it as urgently as I can:
You must get along with each other!
You must learn to be considerate of one another,
cultivating a life in common.
I’ll tell you exactly what I saw:
You’re all picking sides, going around saying,
“I’m on Paul’s side” or “I’m for Apollos” or “Peter is my man.”
I ask you: has the messiah been chopped up into little pieces??
   
Paul was not a happy camper, obviously!  Although the cynic among us might surmise that he really shouldn’t have been all that shocked – that human institutions, including churches, are bound to become divided no matter how noble the cause.  By nature we are self-seeking beings.  We want things to be the way we want them to be.  We don’t always agree with each other, and we’re much more inclined to division than consensus.

Those cynics would have a point, of course.  Perhaps Paul was a little naïve to assume that the Corinthian church would be above stuff like people squabbling and choosing sides. I remember a pastor friend of mine telling me about a church he once served and a long-standing conflict that had split the congregation right down the middle.  When he first arrived as their pastor, he could feel the tension in the air, as palpable as a strong aroma.  It permeated every aspect of the church’s life, from worship to fellowship to missions.  And he made it his quest in his first year to dig deep into the church’s history and psyche to find out where it all began.  He asked questions and investigated for a solid year.  And how surprised he was to find that, in its very earliest forms, this church division began over a disagreement decades before about who was “qualified” to pass out Sunday morning worship bulletins! 

Now just in case you’re wondering, in the Presbyterian Church at least, everyone is qualified to pass out bulletins.  If only that church had realized this years before, maybe things would’ve been alright.  If only they had made the conscious choice to keep from choosing sides, then perhaps the problems would’ve never happened.

If only the Corinthian church has realized this, too – that choosing sides can be dangerous business for the church.  And so there Paul was, staring this division right in the face.  And you’ve got to applaud Paul for how he handles it, don’t you think?  Because while he speaks with “urgency,” he doesn’t beat them up over it.  He doesn’t wag his finger in their general direction. He names the division.  He describes it, he unpacks it – and in doing so takes away the power that comes with discord left lurking in the shadows.  He even throws himself in the mix as an unwitting participant in the side-choosing, so this church knows that their behavior has affected not just them but those outside their fold – in fact, the larger church.

Paul does all of this in the span of a few short verses.  And then he offers a radical alternative, a different way of thinking, with a single rhetorical question: “Has Christ been divided?” Or the way The Message puts it: “Has the Messiah been chopped up into little pieces??”  And you can almost here a collective gasp rise from the Corinthian assembly when they heard this portion of the letter read.  It’s a horrifying, frightening though.  As it always is when people in the church start choosing sides.

There’s a scene I vividly remember from the movie Remember The Titans, the true story about Virginia’s T.C. Williams High School football team during desegregation in the early 70’s.  It was the start of the fall season and things were in total disarray, and it had nothing to do with football.  New coach Herman Boone, an African-American, had been placed in charge of the formerly all-white school’s football team at the height of desegregation.  The seeds of racial fear and hatred were running deep, and everyone had chosen their side: black or white.  Coach Boone realized he had more work on his hands than just X’s and O’s.

Their transforming moment came on a 3am morning jog during the team’s two-week training camp at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  Winding through woods and back creeks as the sun rose, they wound up in front of a graveyard, gray tombstones poking through the morning fog.  Hunched over and gasping for air, the players were wondering why their coach had brought them out here.  Looking back over his shoulder at them, Coach Boone told them this:

This, men, is where they fought the battle of Gettysburg. Fifty thousand men died right here on this field, fighting the same fight that we are still fighting among ourselves today. Listen to their souls say: Hatred destroyed my family. You listen, men, and you take a lesson from the dead. If we don't come together right now on this hallowed ground, we too will be destroyed, just as they were.

If you’ve seen this movie before – and I don’t feel like I’m giving anything away since it’s based on actual events! – but if you’ve seen this movie you know that this becomes a turning point of sorts; the beginning of a transformation for the football team.  Those players began to see more in the other person than just the color of their skin or what part of town they’re from.  They learned to depend on each other, be it the blocker leading the way or the line holding off the D or the kicker making a field goal.  And it didn’t matter if they were black or white.  The only side that mattered was the team.  And rather than fall prey to the forces within and especially outside that were trying to tear them apart, the football team stayed together – all the way through an undefeated season, all the way to the state championship.  When it would’ve been so easy to crumble into a million pieces and start choosing sides all over again, the T.C. Williams football team chose the only side that mattered.

All of which begs the question: what side matters for us in the church?  When divisiveness threatens to tear the people of God apart, what is it that keeps us together?  What message did Paul so want to communicate to the Corinthian church?

Could it be that the answer is found some twenty years earlier, found by the seashore on an early sunny morning?  Two men are standing in the surf at dawn, busy doing what they do every day – casting their nets into the surf.  It is tireless work, being fishermen.  It is thankless, but it is all that they know and they do it the best that they can.

A man approaches from the distance.  He is dressed like them, but his hands do not show the wear and tear of the fishing trade.  He watches them for a minute or two, not saying a word.  He seems to take simple pleasure in the rhythm and flow of their actions, casting the nests and drawing them back in.  But it’s almost as if he’s looking at more than just how they fish along the Sea of Galilee. 

The stranger then opens his mouth to speak, and what he says is both simple and profound: Come with me, and I will help you fish for people.  And later that day, he would say the same to two others further down the beach.  And in both instances, Peter, Andrew, James and John dropped their nets and went with Jesus.  “Immediately,” we are told.  There was no discussion, no indecisiveness, no question: they followed Jesus away from the seashore and into the new life to which they were called. 

Amazing, isn’t it, that they did that?  But you know what’s even more amazing?  It wasn’t that the fisherman followed Jesus.  It was that tax collectors and doctors did, too.  Farmers and carpenters and other tradesmen.  Men and women; Jews and Romans.  All kinds of people, from all kinds of sides, followed Jesus.

You know, Jesus did many wonderful works over the course of three years.  But perhaps the greatest miracle Jesus ever performed didn’t have a thing to do with turning water into wine or raising a man from the dead or making a blind man see.  Perhaps Jesus’ greatest miracle was in bringing together such a wide diversity of folks, all with different personalities and agendas and ideologies.  It couldn’t have been easy.  I’m sure the tax collector and fisherman got into it a time or two.  I imagine the Jewish zealot didn’t always see eye-to-eye with the Roman centurion he was sharing space with.

But at the end of the day, what separated those who chose to follow Jesus couldn’t hold a candle to what brought them together – Jesus himself.  And therein lies the lesson for that Corinthian church, and the lesson for us, and for all who make a habit of choosing sides from time to time – the only side that matters is Jesus.  As long as we live our lives in the way he would have us live it – honoring and serving others, resisting hate and fear, listening to and loving everyone – as long as we do that, we can withstand anything that might divide us.

I think it was the pastor of that church divided over Sunday bulletin passer-outers who, in a heartfelt sermon one Sunday as he was trying to bring them all together, quoted the great German theologian Jürgen Moltmann: The nearer we come to Christ, he said, the nearer we come together.  Let it never be said that this church, or any church, chooses sides over choosing Jesus.  Let it always be said that our focus is on the things that bind us together, rather than the things that pull us apart.  For as long as we do that, we won’t have to worry about whether we’re on the right side or not.  We’ll already be there.  Along with everyone else.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.


 

TO EACH IS GIVEN: THE GIFT OF OUR GIFTS

Ephesians 4: 11-16, 1 Corinthians 12: 14-26
Steve Lindsley
March 21, 2010

This morning we happily welcomed three new families into the life of our church.  Earlier today our session met with these families and received them as new members.  And whenever we do this, whenever we have this session meeting for new members, I can't help but think back a few years to another New Member Sunday.  One of the families that was joining introduced themselves to the session and said a few words; and then turned to their two daughters and asked if they had anything to add.  And that’s when one of the girls, at the time just ten years old, looked straight at the elders of our church with bright eyes and a wide smile, flashed a thumbs-up sign, and emphatically proclaimed, “This church rocks!”

Now I love the fact that a grade-school kid felt totally comfortable expressing this in a roomful of ordained church elders.  Besides the fact that there are many who would, frankly, agree with her.  We all feel it.  We all feel excited about the ways God is moving and acting in our midst.  Which is why it's important, I think, that we take time to consider exactly why it is that this church “rocks.”  And in a sense, that's a big part of what the Lenten journey is about.

You may recall, back on the first Sunday of that journey, that I stood here in this pulpit and challenged us all not to just give something up for Lent – as is typically our custom – but to take something on.  I asked you, over the course of the next few weeks, to prayerfully consider what God may be calling you to “take on” here.  And since then we've talked about how we discern God's call; we've talked about the fact that we don't need to be afraid of that call, and we've talked about serving God with the outlandish hope that comes to us, even and especially as we make our way through a broken world. 

All of which brings us to this day – Spring Discipleship Sunday, when we dedicate ourselves and our very lives to the One who long ago claimed us as God's own.  After church every one of you will hopefully join us in the Fellowship Hall for a covered-dish lunch, where you will have the opportunity to meet with your church elders and speak with them about how you can put your gifts to use in the life of this church.  Curious about the new things happening in our church's educational ministry?  See Valerie Parker.  Want to get involved in our church's mission efforts?  Lee Daniels is your guy.  Interested in learning how our church can continue its mission to “go green?”  Make sure you talk to Mike Branch.  Thinking about helping in our efforts to connect with homebound members through the Philip Fellowship?  Jane Rountree would be more than happy to talk with you.  There's a place for everyone to serve in this church, because there is plenty for us to do.  And lest we deceive ourselves into thinking that there's not a place for us, or we don't have anything to give, let us be reminded of Paul's famous words; words that have served as our sermon theme this Lenten season – to each is given!

And it's not just in 1 Corinthians where Paul makes this case – he reiterates it in a letter to the church in Ephesus.  Mark has already read these verses and the type of gifts Paul talks about; but it's in the 12th and 13th verses that he really speaks as to why the gifts are so important:

(The gifts God has given us are) to equip the saints for the work of ministry,
for building up the body of Christ,
until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God.

As a writer Paul doesn't waste a word; each one chosen carefully.  This passage is an example of that, as three words in particular jump out at us.  The first is “unity,” a word found over and over again in Ephesians.  Time and time again Paul implores his readers to know that the gifts they've been given are meant to be diverse, not divisive.  Because there's a difference between unity and uniformity.  Unity is the common bond we share together as the people of God and our belief in Jesus Christ.  Uniformity, though, is when people see everything in like mind.  And the mistake is assuming that the only way to be the one body of Christ is to adopt a single set of beliefs, one standard, one perspective that everyone has to abide by.  Unity and uniformity in religion are not the same thing – and they shouldn’t be. 

That's why the writer of Ephesians wants the people to focus on the things they have in common, the things that bring them together as the one body of Christ.  In fact, “body of Christ” is another phrase here – something Paul develops much more in the other passage Mark read.  Each part of the body is unique, and each is important in their own way.  Each part of the body has its own purpose, but there is not one part that is more important than another.  Just like human bodies need all parts to get involved and stay involved in order to function, so the church needs each and every “part” to be involved too. 

Except it doesn't always happen like that.  Except that sometimes the body doesn't function like it's supposed to.  Sometimes the different parts of the body aren't coordinated with each other, or are broken or injured in some way, with the end result being that the body doesn't do all it's supposed to do.  You know, I hesitate to bring up a basketball image here, seeing what happened to my Demon Deacons last night in the NCAA Tournament, but nevertheless, I remember someone once telling me that the church today often looks like a basketball game: you've got a handful of players who sure could use some rest, and a whole bunch of spectators who sure could use some exercise! 

Now I don't know if that's always the case, it's probably over-generalizing things a bit, but perhaps there is some truth in there.  Being in the church of Jesus Christ is not a spectator sport!  Our church's vision statement, approved by your session five years ago, says it quite clearly: We glorify God through our active participation in the life of the church.  It's not just about getting stuff done – it's about glorifying God!  The question, of course, is what exactly constitutes “active participation.”  There are those who feel it means simply showing up on Sunday mornings – is that all?  There are others who talk about taking up offering or preparing desserts for Friends Feeding Friends.  Does one have to be on the session to be an “active participant?”   Or is it, as some would suggest, about financial giving?  What exactly entails our involvement in the “work” of ministry in the church?

Have you ever thought about that?  I mean, have you ever stopped to give serious, prayerful consideration to what your role in this church is, and in the mission of the church universal?  If you haven't, I really want to encourage you to do that, sooner rather than later.  Because, going back to the apostle Paul, we’re not all feet.  We’re not all hands.  We’re not all ears.  We each have a different function, and we can’t keep comparing apples to oranges.  Some people have job responsibilities that make it difficult to get here every Sunday morning.  Some have health issues that make taking on certain tasks unfeasible.  Some have financial constraints that limit how much they can give.  But none of those things changes the fact that we all are some part of the body of Christ.  And in order for the body to do its thing, it needs us.  Contrary to what some might say, God can't do what God needs done alone.  God needs us!

Which brings us to another image Paul includes in his letter – right off the bat, in fact: the “work of ministry” and the “building up” of the body of Christ.  There's no real way around this, folks: ministry is work!  Sure, it's fun and renewing and meaningful and life-giving work.  But it's still work!   It takes concentrated, intentional effort on our part to become the church of Jesus Christ!  It involves some “building” activity in the same way we construct a house from the ground up, with lots of thought and planning and preparation and a little sweat thrown in.  It can be tiring – just ask Shasta and the adult youth advisors how tired they feel after this weekend's Beacon lock-in.  Ministry is a marvelous kind of work; unique and different from all the other “works” we're engaged in in our lives.  But it's still work.  It demands something from us, even when we may not be so hot on giving it.

Listen: I grew up in a Presbyterian church in Raleigh that had over 4000 people in its membership.  Our sanctuary sat close to a thousand, and each Sunday morning brought three well-attended worship services.  Back in the day communion was served with glass, not plastic, cups.  These glasses had to be washed after all three services.  On one occasion our youth group volunteered to wash those cups.  At least that's what we had been told; that “we” had “volunteered” to wash the cups.  I hadn't volunteered to wash the cups.  None of my friends recalled volunteering to wash the cups.  But there were were on a sunny spring Sunday afternoon, when our youth group could've been outside playing volleyball in the parking lot or hanging out in the youth house, instead in the back of the sanctuary washing and drying hundreds and hundreds of communion glass cups.

It is probably not hard to imagine the moaning and groaning that was going on.  And to this day I give thanks to God for the youth advisor working with us, who certainly had every right to stand tall and proud on his holy soapbox and berate this ungrateful group of misfits.  Instead he came up to me, put his hand on my shoulder and a smile on his face, and said, “Son, sometimes ministry is work.  That's not such a bad thing, is it?”  Sometimes ministry is work – and that was the first time that I had ever given thought to the idea that what were doing was “ministry.”  It also helped put things in perspective when he observed that, were these communion cups not washed, God's next great meal with the church would be a “bread only” affair.  I can promise you, the next time we had communion, I was a little more aware when I held that glass cup in my hand and the minister said, “Drink this and remember me.” 

I'm reminded of that story from my past every time I walk into our church's Historical Room and see the old communion set on the shelf with the glass cups.  And while I'm in there, I look around at all the pictures of people and the framed documents and old directories and books; artifacts telling the story of over 150 years of “work in ministry” by our predecessors; those who laid the foundation we stand on today.  And I wonder to myself: what's this room going to look like in 48 years, when the First Presbyterian Church of Mount Airy celebrates its 200th anniversary?  What will be the signs of the last 50 years of this church's work?  And most importantly: how will the things you and I do right now show up – or not show up – in that room?  What story of work in ministry will it tell those who come after us?

Ministry is work, but it is a gift.  It is the greatest gift we can give to God – to serve God, serve each other, serve this church.  And let us never doubt the amazing things God can do with our simple gifts.  Many years ago, a man named Wheeling Gaunt died.  He had been an ex-slave at the turn of the 19th century. Just before his death, Mr. Gaunt deeded nine acres of land at the south edge of town to the village of Yellow Springs; and he arranged it so that the proceeds from the sale would provide Christmas gifts every year for "poor widows" in the community in perpetuity.  Over a hundred years later, a complete turkey dinner with all the fixings still arrives at the home of every widow in town just in time for the holidays. 

Perhaps the inscription on Mr. Gaunt’s tombstone says it all: Not what you get, it reads, but what you give.   I'm not going to get all cliché on you here and ask what your tombstone is going to say.  Instead, I'm going to ask what your life is saying right now about the ways you are putting your wonderful gifts to work in the ministry of God's church – a church that needs all parts of the body to do their thing in order to keep being a church that “rocks!”  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.

(Mr. Gaunt story - "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_Springs,_Ohio"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_Springs,_Ohio, visited on 10.18.2006)

TO EACH IS GIVEN: GIVING UP "GIVING UP THINGS" FOR LENT

1 Corinthians 12: 1-11
Steve Lindsley
February 21, 2010

I think I understand how the apostle Paul felt as he prepared to write the 12th chapter of his letter to the church in Corinth.  He felt a lot like Ned Nederlander.  You may not know who Ned Nederlander is unless your guilty pleasure happens to be cheesy slapstick comedy movies.  Ned, played by Martin Short, is one of the Three Amigos in the movie aptly titled The Three Amigos.  The other two are Dusty Bottoms (played by Chevy Chase) and Lucky Day (played by Steve Martin).  They are three unemployed silent movie actors who take what they think is a job offer to film a movie on location with El Guapo, supposedly the most famous actor in all of Mexico.  Instead they find themselves roped into a real-life conflict between El Guapo, who actually heads up a gang of outlaws, and the quaint town of Santa Poco, the soon-to-be victim of his next pillaging.

Near the end of the movie, with the standoff imminent, the Three Amigos find themselves in the awkward position of rallying the people of Santa Poco to the cause.  Lucky Day launches into his inspirational speech: In a way, each of us has an El Guapo to face, he declares.  For some, shyness might be their El Guapo. For others, a fear of failure might be their El Guapo. For us, El Guapo is a big, dangerous man who wants to kill us. But as sure as my name is Lucky Day, the people of Santa Poco can conquer their own personal El Guapo, who also happens to be “the actual” El Guapo!(http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092086/quotes, visited on 2.15.2010.)

The thing is, they don't know how to conquer “the actual El Guapo.”  They are a peaceful town of peaceful people.  What can they do?  And that's when Ned Nederlander reminds the town that everybody has gifts they can use to defeat the enemy.  And so he asks them, What is it that this town really does well?  After a period of silence one elderly lady proclaims: We can sew!  Now I'm not going to tell you how the Three Amigos and the residents of Santa Poco use sewing to vanquish El Guapo and his gang of outlaws.  I'll let you check it out for yourself, assuming you're inclined, as I am, to corny comedies from the 80s.

But back to my point and Ned Nederlander's Paul-like moment.  This is not a town of weaklings, Ned declares.  Ned saw something in those people that they didn't see in themselves.  Which is pretty much the same situation Paul faced as he composed his letter to the Corinthians.  Except it wasn't an outside enemy they face, but internal.    Apparently there were those in the church who viewed their gifts – their skills and abilities – as status symbols, assuming they ranked a little higher than others on the church totem pole.  Others in the church made great show of their gifts, like they'd just made the finals of American Idol.  And there were also those who simply assumed they didn't have any gifts, or that the time for those gifts had long passed.  The result of all of this was a church where “gifts” had become anything but; a source of division instead of the uplifting of the body of Christ they were intended to be.

Stuff like this drove Paul nuts.  You can sense it in some of his other writings, when he sarcastically refers to himself as “a fool for Christ,” or when he begins a new paragraph by greeting his audience with the contemporary equivalent of “You idiots!”  The notion that there was any hierarchy in the church at all, official or implied, grated on Paul's nerves.  Why is it, he wondered, that the very things that are supposed to unify and build up the church wind up being the very things that tear it down? 

It's not a bad question, of course – for Paul's time and for ours.  Which is why Paul reaches into his rhetorical arsenal and conjures up something to persuade the masses, as he does so eloquently and forcefully in verse 4 and following:

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit;
and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord;
and there are varieties of activities,
but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone.
To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.

You noticed, I'm sure, the repetition of the word “same.”  I doubt that's by mistake.  It seems pretty obvious the point that Paul makes here: that all of these gifts, though diverse, come from the same source, the same God.  That God is One, as the people who serve God should be.

But there's another implication that rises out of Paul's words; one that tends to get lost in the shuffle.  Did you notice it, at the end?  To Each Is Given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.  To each is given....  You may have noticed that was part of the sermon title for this Sunday.  In fact, it's the theme for our entire sermon series this Lent.  Because if there is one thing Paul wanted to make as clear as possible to those Corinthians, and to us, it is this: it is not a question of whether someone has gifts.  It's not a question as to whether there are gifts that exist within us.  To each is given! 

Now I want to be very clear here, too.  Every one of us has something we can give to this church.  Every one.  Certainly part of the challenge is figuring out what those gifts are – and we'll be doing some of that in the rest of the sermons this Lenten season.  But before we can do that, we've got to acknowledge the bold assertion Paul makes: To each is given. Say it with me:  To Each Is Given!  We've got to embrace this because, as Paul learned from his beloved Corinthian church, the faith community has made a habit over the years of not always accepting it.

And don't get me wrong; there are plenty of folks who give lots of their time and energy to carrying out the mission of the church, and we thank God for them.  But you know what I'm talking about here – you've heard the expressions before.  Things like: I can't do that; I wouldn't know what to do.  To which Paul would answer, and say it with me, To Each Is Given!

I've never done that before.  And Paul says, To Each Is Given!

I'm sure someone else would do a much better job.  To Each Is Given!

Really, I don't have anything useful for the church.  To Each Is Given!

And my personal favorite: I've done my time already.  And before Paul would respond with those four words of his, I feel certain Paul would point out that it's probably not the best thing to refer to serving in God's church as “doing time;” besides the fact that, until you stop breathing and your heart stops beating, your time is most certainly not done!  I'm sure Paul would've pointed these two things before following them up by saying most emphatically, To Each Is Given!

To each is given.  And you know, this is such a critical thing for us to think about during the Lenten season.  Because you know what we typically do with God's wonderful gifts this time of year?  We give them up!  Right?  That time-honored tradition of giving something up for Lent.  Like chocolate, which my now-wife gave up for Lent two days before our first date; a lovely meal where I, not knowing what she had done, ordered a huge slice of double chocolate cake for dessert.  I was just glad she went out with me a second time!  Or we “give up” habits, like chewing our nails.  Or gossipping. 

The act of giving something up for Lent has deep roots in the church's history; but the thing is, it was part of a much more encompassing ritual of fasting and abstinence that put people in a state where they literally had no choice but to focus completely on God.  Nowadays, though, it's been trivialized to the point where we give something up, endure crabbiness for forty days, and then gorge ourselves in whatever it is on Easter morning.  And honestly, there's not a whole lot that's spiritual about that.  Which is why the one thing that I myself have consistently given up for Lent is, in fact, giving up stuff for Lent!

I know that probably sounds strange coming from a pastor, but I actually think Paul would agree with me.  After all, what's the point of God-given gifts if we're just giving them up?  Isn't there something else we can do to more effectively build up the body of Christ?

I think there is.  In fact, today I want to invite you to join me in doing something;  Don't give something up for Lent – take something on!  You'll notice, if you haven't already, that this is the slogan for our church's Spring Discipleship season.  But the thing is, it's not just some cute little slogan.  I'm serious about this!  Don't give something up for Lent – take something on!  I mean, if giving up things for Lent is absolutely critical to your spiritual journey, that's fine.  But if you're really not inclined to do it; if you've only done it because you always thought that's what you were supposed to do, then let me grant you permission to do as I have done, and give up giving up things this Lent. 

And instead, let me challenge you to take something on as a spiritual practice this Lent.  During these forty days as we journey along with Jesus to the cross and beyond, during our weekly three-way conversations  between you, me and God that we call “sermons,” I want to invite you to think about and pray about and ponder what kinds of gifts you have – and you do have them, remember, because what?  To Each Is Given.  You're catching on!  I want you to think about the gifts you have and how you are being called to put them to use here in our community and in this church.

And on our Spring Discipleship Dedication Sunday, March 21, the moderators of the Discipleship Ministry Team, Jennifer Logan and Mike Branch, will gather us all in the Fellowship Hall after worship for a covered-dish lunch.  And at this lunch there will be tables set up all around the room, and members of your session will be there ready to help you find your place in the work of their ministry teams and in the life of the church.  If you've already been in the habit of offering your gifts in the same way every year, I want to encourage you to think outside the box and find new ways to serve, maybe even ways that push your comfort levels a bit.  And if you've never made a habit of offering your gifts in church service before, at least on a regular basis, let me plead with you to bring that streak to an end on March 21st. 

Because Paul said it, folks – To Each is Given.  You and I have the honor and privilege of serving God in this church.  And during this Lenten season, there are four weeks to pray about how we can put our gifts to use.  May we do that, and may we do it together. Let's make Paul proud.  Let's make God proud!  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.

MORE THAN WORDS FOR A WEDDING

1 Corinthians 13: 1-13
Steve Lindsley
January 17, 2010

It happens most every time I meet with an engaged couple as we plan the details of their wedding.   At some point, around our third meeting, we focus on the service and what they want it to be like.  Lots of details to iron out: how many bridesmaids and groomsmen, whether or not they want a unity candle, whether they'd like someone to read a poem or scripture.  And it's here where it usually comes up, and it's described to me in any number of ways:  I'd like someone to read the “Love Chapter”  – or – Pastor, could you use that thing from the Bible that talks about, you know, love and stuff –  or – Let's read that thing that everyone uses at weddings.

I smile and nod my head, knowing exactly what they're talking about.  And the fact that they can't refer to it as the thirteenth chapter of Paul's first letter to the church in Corinth isn't that big of a deal.  I know what they're talking about.  It's the “Love Chapter,” after all – lots of wonderful, beautiful, poetic words.  They are read at weddings because one would hope the two people making this kind of commitment are doing so out of love for each other. 

And Lord knows the words do strike a chord on the big day, don't they?  Love is patient and kind – the young couple look wistfully at each other, knowing full well these are virtues they'll need to make good use of in their life together.  Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude – how about that argument last week, huh?  Love does not insist on its own way – they chuckle openly, as they understand that individuals agendas must now be merged with a new unified one.  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things – love never ends.  Aaah!

As long as I have the pleasure of officiating weddings I will never deny a couple the chance to have “the Love Chapter” read at their service.  But I'll be honest with you – if I had my druthers, I would encourage folks to look elsewhere for that special wedding reading.  And it's not that 1 Corinthians 13 aren't beautiful words – they are.  It's not because they don't convey an important truth that all people should put to use in human relationship – they do. 

No, it's the fact that we've relegated these thirteen verses to almost pop culture status, like some sweet slogan you find etched in a card in the Hallmark store.  We've even given them a name - “Love Chapter – that conveniently removes them from their original context.  We've enshrined the words themselves in brass so any variation of the words as we're used to hearing them doesn't seem “right” – like the wedding when I read a different translation and was accosted by someone afterwards for not reading the assigned verses.  How ironic is it that we have actually fallen in love with the words themselves, more so than the message they are trying to convey!

Because I'll tell you this – when the apostle Paul sat down to write these thirteen verses, I can promise you the last thing he had on his mind were weddings.  In fact, if you want to know the truth, Paul was angry when he wrote this.  Angry and furious and frustrated at a particular gathering of Christians in the Greek seaport town of Corinth.  It didn't help that this church was his baby – a fellowship he founded and was still heavily invested in.  Like a loving parent he had guided them along the way – infancy and childhood had gone okay, but now the church was approaching adolescence, and you know how that goes.  He saw amazing potential in this faith community in this thriving port town – lots of diversity and resources, a strong economy.  But he also watched in agony as those same things became the very source of something you would never expect in a community of faith: conflict.

Yes, I know – conflict.  In a church, can you imagine?!  It's hard to believe, isn't it, that a group of people united by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, gathering together to worship and serve God, could ever get entangled in the messy web of conflict.  But it happened.  Here's just a smattering of what the Corinthian church was dealing with:

• There were people in church leadership caught up in power struggles
• There were people in the church who weren't following proper order and polity
• There were people – actual church members! - engaging in some inappropriate behavior outside of church
• And here's the kicker – there were people there whose hair had grown too long for proper church worship!

You know, I'm not sure whether it disturbs me or makes me feel better that the church 2000 years ago – just decades removed from Jesus walking the earth – the church then encountered the same kinds of conflicts and divisions that plague the church today!  Things had gotten pretty bad for the Corinthian church.  They were beyond just simply not getting along – they were barely living on the same planet.  The divisiveness and discord had become so embedded in their fellowship that it was threatening the very existence of the church.

That's the hard part of being the church, isn't it – an imperfect people worshipping and serving a perfect God?  That just clashes, doesn't it?  Out of its brokenness, the church is supposed to point people to the One who heals all rifts and brings about wholeness.  Out of its brokenness, the church is somehow supposed to do that.  And while the church has and will continue to do amazing and wonderful things, it will also stumble along the way.  It can't help it.  The church lives into its mission and vision in spite of itself.

You know, I can't help but think of a NOVA TV special I saw on PBS a few years back.  This particular episode had been billed as one that would focus on two groups whose members worked tirelessly for the good of the community, above and beyond all individual needs.  No individual put themselves first.  I wondered what groups of extreme selflessness would be chronicled – some previously undiscovered tribe in the African jungle?  An isolated clan living in the interior of South America?  Some unique cohort in the far, frozen North?  No.  The NOVA program focused on ants and cockroaches.  Ants and cockroaches!  In their quest to find individuals that are by nature selfless, NOVA had to look outside our own species.

It was out of this sense of frustration and bewilderment that I imagine Paul sitting down to write his letter.  In his mind he recounts all the difficulties this Corinthian church he loved so much was facing – all the pettiness that had festered to toxic levels; all the divisiveness that apparently ants and cockroaches can work through.  He's torn between feelings of anger and sorrow, between irritation and pity, trying to think of what he can say to them; what he can write that maybe, just maybe, would lead them to see beyond themselves to Jesus.  He tries to be straightforward.  He tries to be the loving parent.  He even gets all scientific with this new image of the “body of Christ.”  And then in the very next chapter, he finally decides to tell it like it is.  And he writes these words:

Love never gives up.  Love cares more for others than for self. 
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. 
Love doesn't strut, doesn't have a swelled head, doesn't force itself on others, 
Isn't always "me first," doesn't fly off the handle, doesn't keep score of the sins of others, Doesn't revel when others grovel, takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, 
Puts up with anything, trusts God always, always looks for the best, never looks back, 
But keeps going to the end.  Love never dies.

We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly and completely as God sees us, knowing him just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

So go after a life of love as if your life depended on it – because it does.

(from The Message translation)

Not once was Paul thinking about two people exchanging wedding vows when he penned this.  Not once did he imagine that thousands of years later his words would be enshrined and fallen in love with as the epitome of romantic expression.  No, Paul had something else entirely in mind.  He was thinking about a dangerous and radical love; a love that comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comforted.  A love that is so much more than just simple charity or being nice to someone; but a love that transcends our human frailties in a way that brings us together.

It is a love made for the body of Christ, in Paul's time and in our own.  A love which reminds those church leaders, like the ones we ordained and installed last week, like the one standing behind this pulpit, that no one has all the answers; for while one day we will see face to face, now all we see is in a mirror dimly.  A love which points us to something more than the letter of the law: the spirit behind it, so that polity and order do not become the source of our devotion, but tools that point us to that source.  A love which transforms the individual and the community so their lives are ruled not by the whims and ways of a broken world but by a God who calls us into God's shalom.  And a love which reminds us that the length of our hair, or the style of our dress, or the color of our skin or any of the other things we use to divide should never stand in the way of people and their God.

This love which Paul writes about here takes practice, takes intentionality, takes dedication.  It is more than just a feeling of the heart but an act of the will.  It is not about sentimentality and romance; it is about choice – a choice that leads us to action.  And this action is not like those of a certain televangelist north of us, whose response to the horrible Haitian earthquake this past week was to condemn an entire nation for their supposed “unfaithfulness.”  No, the action Paul calls us to is like the one you and I will have an opportunity to participate in before you leave today, as we take up a special offering to support Presbyterian Disaster Assistance's compassionate relief efforts for our brothers and sisters in Haiti.  That's the real Christian response.  That's us choosing to put love into action.

And that's the real beauty of what perhaps could be more accurately called the “Action Chapter,” don't you think – when the love it speaks of so eloquently comes alive in us?  A woman attended church one Sunday with a friend.  A young family with two children, a boy of 6 and a girl of 4, sat in front of them. The little girl was doing her best to sit still but wasn’t succeeding, despite the frequent reminders of her parents. Several worshipers sitting nearby were starting to get annoyed.

That was right around the time that the scripture reader began reading the passage for that Sunday: 1 Corinthians 13.  Love is patient..., the reader said, as the parents continued to gently gesture to their squirming daughter, Shhhhh. The mother picked the girl up off the floor and sat her down in the pew.

Love is kind ...  The girl slid off the pew again, took her brother’s face in her hands and gave him a kiss. He gave her a hug in return.
   

Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.... The father placed his hand on his daughter’s head and, again, asked her to stay still. She finally did, folding her legs and determinedly looking straight ahead.

Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things .... And now faith, hope, love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.....  The little girl reached for her father's hand, who patted it and then held it in his own.  And the lady behind them thought to herself, “That little girl might not have understood one word of that scripture, but she knew, already, what love was about.  Because it was shown to her.” (http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/illustrations_for_installment.asp?installment_id=93040507, visited on 1.12.2010).

You see?  They really are more than words for a wedding.   And to quote Mary Glen quoting Paul, Go after a life of love as if you're life depended on it – because it does.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.