6-1-2008 We Are The Disciples - People of the Book

2 Corinthians 3:17

¹⁷Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

Some years ago, Ann Landers printed a letter from a reader who wondered how many parents would still have children, if they had their lives to live over again. Would they have children the second time around?

Over 70% said no. 70% said if they had it to do all over again, they would choose not to have children. That’s a pretty sobering statistic.

A lot of stories were told in the responses, from parents who had wonderful children to parents who had the most unruly. Oddly, some of the ones with wonderful kids said they would not go through it again, while the parents of the scamps said they would.

One woman said that she would have children again, but not the same children.

Twenty-three years ago, Kate and I made a choice to be Disciples of Christ, and we’d make the same choice all over again.

All of you are here by choice. Some chose to join here, others were born here and have chosen to continue your membership here. And, I suspect, you’d do it all over again.

So what makes Disciples Disciples? And why, after 175 years, do we continue this ministry?

We’ve been known as the “people of the ___” over the years. We’ve called ourselves the People of the Covenant, because our congregations, our regional churches, and our general church are related not by hierarchy, but by covenant.

We’ve been known as the People Obsessed with Bread, based on our placing communion at the center of our life together. Along with that is the label, People of the Chalice--due to our use of this symbol, a chalice with a St. Andrews cross.

We’ve been known as the People of the Parenthesis, because of our name--the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). That came about when our two best known founders came together in 1832, just one year before we began worshiping in the Block House. Barton Stone preferred the name “Christians” and Alexander Campbell the name “Disciples of Christ.” After 1832, both names were used, hence the parenthesis.

We’ve been called People of Faith and Reason because we believe that faith must be reasonable, and rational. This has been a key point in our history--both for laity and clergy. We believe that people need to think for themselves.

And, we’ve been known as the People of the Book, because we held that there was no creed but Christ, and no book but the Bible. Listen carefully--Disciples are not against creeds. They’re good teaching tools, but they are not good when they are used to exclude people. We invite folks to membership based on a simple confession of faith in Christ--without parsing every syllable. Why? Because we believe people can think for themselves and make up their own minds about doctrines.

This will not do justice to our history--and we have some wonderful materials for you to read that will fill in the gaps--but I’m going to very briefly sketch our beginnings of our denomination’s thinking.

Alexander Campbell and Barton W. Stone were Presbyterian Pastors who began--at around the same time but in different states--to question the structures and doctrines of their Church. They had been schooled in the philosophies of John Locke, who argued for individual freedoms both in society and in the church. In the United States of America, both things were truly possible.

These freedoms were possible in the church only if one read and studied the Bible for one’s own self.

And so, the finer points of Stone-Campbell thought were:

• The Bible is the only authoritative source for the church, and that each person can interpret it for him or herself.

Prior to this time, the Bible was in the hands of a very few scholars--who were about the only ones who could read it.

One of our early slogans was, “where the Bible speaks, we speak.” The principal difference between us and our sisters and brothers in the Churches of Christ, is that they continue that slogan by adding, “and where the Bible is silent, we are silent.

Disciples believe that where the Bible is silent, we are free to choose (Remember, freedom is very important in our movement).

• Division in the church is a sinful scandal.

  • Thomas Campbell: “…the Church of Christ upon earth is essentially, intentionally, and constitutionally one…”

  • B.W. Stone: “Christian Unity is our polar star.”

• Baptism is a choice one makes by one’s own self, and immersion is the method.

• Congregations are empowered by God and the scriptures to make their own decisions.

• Congregational worship cannot be held hostage by the clergy. Ordained Elders are able to celebrate sacraments (baptism & communion). Communion is to be celebrated weekly.

It is this last idea that I would like to address for a few minutes.

We were formed by the time and the place in which we were born. This true to a certain degree of all of us as individuals, and is certainly true of us as a church.

The Disciples were born on the American Frontier. It’s difficult to imagine that this place where we stand today was known at one time as “the West.”

In Campbell’s and Stone’s time, communication was by hand carried letter. A note to a friend might take a month or more to deliver. Today, we send emails and text messages at a furious rate. We order things online from Amazon.com and complain when they take more than a day to reach us.

Travel was by foot or horseback or buggy, or on boats bragged through canals by mules. Chances are, most of the earliest Disciples in Richland County lived within walking distance of the various structures in which our church has met.

The number of educated and ordained clergy in the mainline denominations was small in comparison to the churches and membership. And so, the practice of the Circuit Rider was commonplace 200 years ago. One Pastor--be he (and they were all hes) Presbyterian, Methodist, Lutheran, or other, would travel on horseback among several churches, sometimes being able to lead in worship only once a month or less. Luther and Calvin, the Great Reformers of the 16^th century, fought to put the bible back the hands of the people, but they didn’t do the same with communion.

Even today, Methodist churches do not celebrate communion without an Elder (Pastor) presiding, and Presbyterians do not do so without a Minister of Word and Sacrament--and appropriate authority by a governing body.

That meant, that in the 19^th century, as now, the regular, weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper, Communion, Eucharist, or by whatever name is familiar, didn’t happen. The names of the practice were familiar, but the practice itself was not.

Christians on the frontier began to celebrate sacraments so infrequently--quarterly, annually--that they sometimes grew out of the practice altogether.

Kate and I belonged to a Baptist Church which celebrated communion once a quarter. The Deacons forgot how to pass the trays. Even today, most Presbyterians and Methodists celebrate communion no more than once a month.

Alexander Campbell’s major gift to the modern church was a revolution in congregational worship. A revolution which turned the church on its head--or maybe toward its head. The celebration of the Lord’s Supper did not depend on the presence of a priest or minister or Pastor, but rather, the authority of the Elder, chosen, elected, ordained by each congregation.

In Campbell’s vision of the church, no Christian should be kept away from the table for want of a pastor. In fact, no Christian should be prevented from the table for any reason. This was the view that got him kicked out of the Presbyterians, by the way. In the Presbyterian church at that time, pastors would determine whether each congregant was worthy to receive the Lord’s Supper--and they would receive a token from the pastor to present at the communion rail. Campbell said that each person could make that determination for themselves, and therefore, all were welcome.. And we still welcome all to this table as Campbell began to do 200 years ago.

By the way, Presbyterians and Methodists both are encouraging their congregations to celebrate communion more frequently, and many of the things which caused Barton Stone and Alexander Campbell to separate from Presbyterianism are no longer issues that divide us.

As most of you know, before I came here in 2006, I served a union congregation of Methodists and Presbyterians. I was welcomed into both of those fellowships. I was even invited to transfer my credentials into those denominations. And, I have to tell you, it was a tempting invitation. I love the historic communion prayer forms which are very common in those bodies. But, when I prayed them, I stood alone behind the table. And I missed having Elders with me. Some day, maybe we’ll do those prayers together.

You see, I am a Disciple at heart. And, when I announced to my Presbyterian and Methodist friends that I was going home, they said, “You’re not from Ohio.”

No, but I am a Disciple. And this is my home. And yours. If I had it to do all over again, I’d still be a Disciple, and I suspect the same is true for you In the days and weeks and months and years to come, may God use us as we consider the generations who will be touched by the Gospel through this church in the next 175 years.

Amen..

First Christian Church Sermons Chris Whitehead 6/1/2008

05-25-2008 Don't Worry, Be....

Matthew 6:24-34

²⁴“No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.

²⁵“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

²⁶Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?

²⁷And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? ²⁸And why do you worry about clothing?

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, ²⁹yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.

³⁰But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?

³¹Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ ³²For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.

³³But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

³⁴“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

The young woman was brought to our ER by ambulance. She’d left an emotionally abusive home only to fall into the arms of a physically abusive husband. She then fell into a deep depression which would weigh her down for months.

The night she appeared in our ER, she had a broken cheekbone--from the husband--and long, deep gashes on her wrists. By her own hand.

I arrived after her family’s minister got there, but I could hear him as I approached the curtain. He told her that it was a good thing that she hadn’t died, because she would’ve gone straight to hell. He told her that her husband had acted badly because she wasn’t being a good wife--like God wanted her to be. He told her that her depression was nonsense--she just needed a better attitude. “Consider the lilies!” he told her.

I heard this, and so I grabbed him by the hair and pounded his head into the railing of the bed, and asked him, “who are you to come into my ER and mistreat my patient?”

I didn’t do that. But, I wanted to.

She sat down at the table downstairs last week with her breakfast. And her two kids. She told me that she’d had a good job and a boyfriend, and things had been pretty good.

Then, her job went south--literally--and her boyfriend went east. And the job she has now is just not enough. And that if it weren’t for free meals and food programs in the city, she wouldn’t know what to do. Sundays were hard, because nobody had meals on Sunday.

So, I told her, “Don’t worry about it! Buck up! Look at the flowers and birds. Are they worrying? Jesus said not to worry about trivial things. So, stop worrying and be positive! Relax! Look at the birds! Don’t worry, be happy!

I didn’t say that. Nor would I ever.

Both these stories tell us something about the world in which we live.

It ain’t Galilee.

Galilee in Jesus’ time was a very poor place, and yet, the situation was such that if you knocked on almost any door, you’d get a meal--maybe even a bed for the night. Jesus’ whole plan of mission counted on this. Remember, he told the disciples when he sent them out not carry anything with them, but to accept whatever hospitality was offered? There was no need for most people to get distracted with financial problems. In fact, the more the community became caring, and embodied the gospel of the kingdom the better the chances were that you would survive, at least with the basics.

Acts 2 tells the story of the early Jerusalem church, which was essentially a commune. It was. Everybody shared what they had and they all had plenty. Until the fourth chapter, of course, when things got complicated.

The point is that in Jesus’ time, this was very good advice. Don’t worry about survival. You will survive. God will take care of you, along with generous people.

Bill Loader says, “The strategy would not have worked in desperately poor areas and still does not. Starving people look with vacant faces at birds and, if anything, would want to eat them or shoo them away from the little they have. It is even worse when good Christian people imply that desperate people lack faith or are somehow left on the scrap heap because they worry and don't trust.”

We live in a world full of people who cannot help but worry and who have a difficult time trusting. They are exhausted and fearful--either of economic disaster, or of emotional or mental pain. Repeating “consider the lilies of the field,” to someone on the brink of financial or nervous breakdown, and, well, you’ll get what you deserve.

So, where does that leave us--relatively well-off--and if you think you’re not, take a look at the pictures from Darfur, if you can stomach them. We are relatively well-off, and well fed--maybe overfed. We live in decent homes--some more affluent than others. What does this passage bring to us?

The first verse of our reading addresses us. We can’t serve two masters. We can’t serve both God and money--actually, the word there, mammon, means greed for money or wealth. You either work for wealth, or you work for God. They are opposites.

To serve God is the opposite of serving greed. The issue is about idolatry--and an idol is anything you worship more than God.

Bill Loader writes:

“The contrast [that is of God and wealth] only makes sense if you really do think they are opposites. If your image of God is of one who will guarantee you blessing, here or beyond, so that you can do better than others, then your God is in close alliance with mammon. They are mates. It matters little whether your satisfaction is to be at peace in this world with possessions while others go without or to have peace in the life to come knowing that others face pain and oblivion. They are both versions of non-love. But if your God is a God of compassion, your passion and your pain will be compassionate. So we choose the God of compassion who calls for sharing or we choose the God of greed and self-indulgence, making ourselves rich and happy at others' expense. Both can be very religious.

I think that the pie-in-the-sky prosperity- Gospel type preachers who tell their audiences that God wants them to be rich are going to have some ‘splaining to do. Not only does that kind of thinking not deliver, it reminds me of a line from Harry Emerson Fosdick’s great hymn:

“Shame our wanton, selfish gladness,

Rich in things, but poor in soul.”

So, what do we do? Ignore our needs? Live outside in the park? Stop working? No, God has made us to take care of our own needs, but not at the expense of other people, not at the expense of noticing God’s creation, at not at the expense of worshiping the material world more than God.

Alice Walker wrote in her greatest novel, “I think God gets [hacked] off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.” Consider the purple in the field? Not for the sake of the color purple itself, but to honor the one who created it.

Tom Wright (who wrote our Luke for everyone book) writes in his new book on Hope, “when people cease to be surrounded by beauty, they cease to hope.”

Rather than worship the idol of wealth, we are to seek the kingdom of God and its righteousness. Throughout the bible, God’s kingdom and righteousness are linked with justice. And the kingdom of righteousness & justice is the business of making sure that all have enough.

• Justice is questioning why Ohio has the highest foreclosure rate in the country.

• Justice is working to bring jobs to Mansfield

• Justice is not just providing a meal, it is seeking to change the systems and infrastructures that keep some in poverty.

• Justice is noticing the flowers and birds--the beauty given to us by God--and caring for the earth that nurtures them and us.

Then we can truly appreciate the flowers and the birds. Because, our problem isn’t that we’re too busy to notice the flowers, the problem is that we lack confidence in the God we worship. We don’t trust that our needs will be met--not realizing that our needs will never truly be met while others remain in need. Do we really believe that God will provide for us? Seek the kingdom, first, then everything else will come. Seek the kingdom in prayer, in study, in love for others, and you’ll have enough.

But, please don’t say that to someone who looks at a bird and wonders if that might be their next meal--they can’t hear that over the growling of their stomachs. Tell them that God is walking with them--and that you will, too.

You want to know what I said to those two women in the stories I told earlier? Not, don’t worry, be happy! Everything will be alright. Seek the kingdom and everything will be just fine.

No, I told them that God was hurting right there with them, and that God didn’t want them to hurt. And that there were lots of people who would walk with them.

And that is the good news for all of us--that God will always walk with us. And that there are lots of people who will walk through life with us.

Last Wednesday, about 40 of us walked the streets of Downtown Mansfield to see the places our church has called home over the years. And we remembered the people who’d gone before us, and the ways in which they had blessed our city in the past. It was a wonderful metaphor for the Christian life--we walk in paths that have been created for us by those who’ve gone before--who still walk with us, And we notice not only the beauty, but the needs. And we remember that God is walking with us, empowering us to reach out, to love, to enjoy beauty, and to serve. That is Good news, Good News, indeed. Amen.

First Christian Church Sermons Chris Whitehead 5/25/2008

05-18-2008 Go Ye Means Go We

Mathew 28:16-20

Trinity Sunday

16Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

It’s Trinity Sunday, meaning most good Disciples pastors are scratching their heads. We Disciples aren’t very good Trinitarians. Alexander Campbell believed in God, known to us as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but he found the doctrines of the Trinity impenetrable nonsense—one God, three persons, etc., and the term didn’t appear in the Bible, so Campbell didn’t have much use for it. And, ever since, we Disciples have been reluctant to embrace the doctrines surrounding the Trinity, even though we acknowledge God to be our Father (and Mother), God the Son in Jesus of Nazareth, and God within us, the Holy Spirit. In more contemporary terms, we acknowledge God as Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.

And so, Trinity Sunday rolls around and we like to dwell on the baptismal formula in Matthew 28, one of only two places in the bible where this idea seems to exist. We baptize in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit to acknowledge our understanding of God, and to follow the directive of Christ in this passage.

Or, we play with the language—which I fully intended to do in this sermon—hence the title, “Go ye means Go we.” I put it that way because I still hear the King James Version in my head, like I bet many of you do.

Here, in this passage, is a place where the King Jimmy gives us something we don’t have in the newer translations. The Greek word here for you is plural—most languages distinguish between you singular, as in, “you, Kathy, are doing a great job today,” as opposed to you plural, as in “you, choir, are doing a great job today.”

Elizabethan English had provisions for separating out you singular and you plural. You is singular, ye is plural. And the King James Version gets it right here. Go ye. You, plural. In the South we have a perfectly good way of expressing this—ya’ll. If we were reading this in the Revised Southern version, Jesus would say, “Ya’ll go on out there and round up folks to follow me.”

That’s what I was going to do.

But, funny things happen between the time when I first plan a sermon and the week finally rolls around.

This week, I saw in this passage something new. It is a wonderful brief outline of what being church is all about.

Two Sundays ago, we examined Luke’s version of this story—where Jesus tells the disciples to spread the news—but in a different way. There he gives them the geography—“you will be my witnesses, first in Jerusalem, in a Judea and Samaria, and to ends of the earth.

But, Matthew emphasizes church life in his telling of the story. It is not just about going, and baptizing, but so much more.

The basis for this outline of church life begins from other sources—the rest of Matthew’s Gospel, and the rest of the scriptures. The basis for life in the church is God’s loving grace.

Have I ever told you my theory that everybody is a fundamentalist? It’s true. They may not be classic fundamentalists, how have a list of five fundamentals concerning scripture, the Virgin Birth, Substitutionary Atonement, physical resurrection, and bodily return. Not everyone has that as their list of fundamentals, but we are all fundamentalists at heart.

We just have different lists.

I bet you have a small simple set of beliefs that undergird the rest of your faith, that are foundational, fundamental to whom you are. For some, the Golden rule is part of it. For others, the Ten Commandments. The sermon on the Mount. For some, the doctrine of the Trinity.

Here’s mine.

God’s Loving Grace Is Greater than Anything Anyone Can Imagine. Grace means God Loves You. Period. No matter what.

Grace

Because of that, We Want to Worship God

Because We Know God’s Grace, We Want to Share it With Others.

We want to Learn and Teach God’s will for all and to all.

Remember, Jesus Is Always With Us.

First Christian Church Sermons Chris Whitehead 5/4/2008

05-04-2008 Out of the Church

Acts 1:1-11

May 4, 2008

1In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning 2until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen. 3After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. 4While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. “This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; 5for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”

6So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” 9When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Luke 24:44-53

44Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” 45Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48You are witnesses of these things. 49And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”

50Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. 51While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. 52And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; 53and they were continually in the temple blessing God.

_________________________

I saw a bumper sticker years ago which sets the tone for a theological discussion of Christ’s return. It stated, “Jesus is Coming,” and the fine print at the bottom added, “look busy.”

I thought of that this week as I considered this week’s text. We have the story-actually two stories--of Jesus’ ascension, in which he gives the disciples instructions and then vanishes. And then angels come and ask them, “why are just staring off into space? Get busy.”

The stories in Luke and Acts are slightly different—which is interesting, because the same person is telling them. We could try to moosh them together like we do the Christmas stories, but we will miss the point. They are different because they have different emphases.

Luke and Acts were written as one book. The gospel of Luke tells the story of Jesus of Nazareth, beginning with his uncle Zechariah praying in the temple before his birth, and the disciples praying in the temple after he ascends to heaven.

Acts begins with the disciples receiving Luke’s version of the “Great Commission,” and being sent out into the world.

Both versions tell of the coming of the power of the Holy Spirit. Both versions begin with the promise that the disciples will be witnesses to Jesus and his message, and that the story will be told first in Jerusalem.

But then, the Acts story moves out—literally—into the world.

Jesus gives the disciples a plan of action to carry the good news into the world. In Acts 1:8, Jesus tells them, “You will be my witnesses, in (slide) Jerusalem, Judea (slide) and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (slide)

Interestingly, this verse is also an outline of the book of Acts.

The Book of Acts describes the Apostles in mission in the first century after Jesus’ ascension—his leaving the earth. And it follows that three-fold pattern—Acts 2-7 describe the growth of the church in Jerusalem. Acts 8-15 in Judea and Samaria, and Acts 16 through the end of the book describe the acts (primarily of Paul) in spreading the good news about Jesus to the ends of the earth—at least as they knew it.

But, this outline can also be instructive for us in our work in the church, today. We have our own Jerusalems, Judeas and Samarias, and our own ends of the earth.

We are going to be celebrating our 175^th anniversary over the next few months, and we can learn something about ourselves and our future as we look back.

We built this building in Jerusalem. Jerusalem? This isn’t Jerusalem. Ah, but it is.

The disciples were sent out first to the place in which they lived, the place which was most familiar to them. They shared the good news throughout the Greater Jerusalem Metropolitan area, and the church grew like mad.

And we grew within our own little realm of Jerusalem, er, Mansfield. We stayed in the place where we were most familiar and we grew. We grew primarily through the church nursery—because we had a phenomenal birthrate in the 1950s, but then again, most churches did. Some church growth experts have called it “bedroom evangelism.” Think about it.

We were a neighborhood church and grew that way. Occasionally we would invite someone from our immediate circles to visit, and we grew that way, too. Still, the church looked, well, probably a lot like the Jerusalem church in its early days—pretty homogeneous—we all looked pretty much alike—white, middle class.

But God wasn’t satisfied with a church that looked that way, and so the disciples were sent out into Judea and Samaria, and then to the ends of the earth. I want to come back to Judea and Samaria in a bit. Right now, I want to deal with the ends of the earth.

The church reached the ends of the earth pretty quickly, given that there was no mass communication and no rapid transit. Paul traveled by ship—in pretty dangerous conditions—and preached throughout Asia Minor (Turkey), Macedonia, Greece, and even Rome. In one lifetime. And where his message was received, others went out from there to spread the good news.

No doubt, the folks back in Jerusalem were asked if they wanted to go on mission trips, too. No, but they would send money to help. That’s OK, they were participating. And they did a remarkable job in spreading the word.

You, too, have done a remarkable job in reaching the ends of the earth. You have been reaching the ends of the other with mission offerings. First Christian Church Women have been sending money to support Disciples missions for well over a century.

Next month, on the 8^th, I hope you will be here for the kick-off event of our Anniversary Celebration. Johnny Wray will be our preacher—and I consider him to be one of the top 10 preachers in the Disciples. Johnny is the Director of the Week of Compassion Offering ministry of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). That ministry is our relief and development program, and part of a multi-denominational program called One Great Hour of Sharing. Relief, in that when disaster and war arise, human sufferings rise with them. And we help. Sometimes, it’s other help that’s needed. Those Week of Compassion offerings we have given have dug wells that have made a huge difference in the lives of people far, far away.

Johnny has literally been to the ends of the earth in Christ’s name and in yours. In many ways and in many places, he is the face of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). When the tsunami hit three years ago, he was there and you were there, bringing good news and comfort and help. Week of Compassion responded in uncountable ways when my hometown of New Orleans was flooded during Hurricane Katrina. And when floods hit Ohio last summer, week of compassion dollars flowed into Mansfield and Findlay to help. Ohio is the ends of the earth if standing somewhere else.

You have reached out in countless ways to share the Gospel with others in faraway places. And we need to keep doing that.

But, then there’s this pesky business of Judea and Samaria. That must have been hard for the first Apostles (they were Disciples until they were sent out. Disciples=follow, Apostles=sent out or away). The really didn’t like the Samaritans and the Judeans, well they weren’t all that keen of having them in the church either. But, they reached out, and the church grew.

And so here we are, in the midst of our own Jerusalem, surrounded by Judea and Samaria. The birthrate in Jerusalem (that is, at FCC Mansfield) has dropped considerably. This neighborhood, which we once knew as Jerusalem, has now become the unfamiliar territory of Judea and Samaria. But, more than that, we are surrounded by an increasingly unchurched population. Folks who have either never heard the good news of Jesus Christ, or, more likely, had some bad experiences in the church in the past or simply got bored and quit going.

I meet a lot of folks who’ve been burned by the church. They’ve been judged and criticized and squeezed right out of Jerusalem and into Samaria. And, what they need is an invitation from someone—well, like you—with the Good News, indeed, that there are a bunch of folks who love Jesus and each other, and leave judgment to God’s loving heart.

They may have gotten out of the church, but now they need to find their way back. Maybe you—each of you and all of you hold the key for them. And a word of kindness may be all it will take to start.

The Luke lesson ends with the Disciples praying and worshiping in the Temple. In Jerusalem. But, you can’t grow from inside—you’ve go to get out of the church! Cleaning up around here in Judea and Samaria is a good start—and a good way to meet our neighbors.

And there’s nothing in here about age limits. And retirement isn’t a part of the biblical witness at all. Marj, one of our members from the last church I served went on a mission trip with us at age 84. Someone asked what she could possibly do to help with the work that was to be done. “I’ll encourage the others,” she said. And she did. In Ukraine. Which is at the ends of the earth mind you.

Imagine what you could do right here at home.

First Christian Church Sermons Chris Whitehead 5/4/2008

03-23-2008 There's a Savior on the Loose

Easter Sunday

John 20:1-18

¶ Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.

So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."

Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb.

The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.

He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in.

Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus' head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.

Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.

Then the disciples returned to their homes.

¶ But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet.

They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."

When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus.

Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?"

Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."

Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher).

Jesus said to her, "Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"

Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, "I have seen the Lord"; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

We’re all here for different reasons this morning--and yet we’re all here for the same reason.

Some of us are here because it’s Sunday. You’d be here whether it was Easter or the third Sunday in August, which is just Sunday. Every time the doors are open, you are here. You’re probably mad that we let the blizzard call off church two weeks ago. You’re here because it’s Sunday and you are here. And we are delighted that you are here.

Some of us are here because it’s Easter, and, well, you try to come all the time, but for Easter--you’re definitely going to make it on Easter. You’re here because it’s Easter and we’re really glad you’re here.

Some of you are here because your momma or your grandmamma wanted you here, and God bless you for coming. You be nice to Mom and Grandma. You’re gonna miss’ ‘em some day. You’re here because you are good children and grandchildren, and we are so happy you are here.

And I’m here because, well, this is my job. Welcome to my job! I’m here every Sunday, too, though in times past, I’ve gone especially because it is Easter, and I’ve also gone to church to make my Mom happy.

And we’re all here because a frightened and disheartened young woman named Mary Magdalene went down to the cemetery in the dark--and we all know the dark. We all know the dark places of life.

Somewhere last week, a group of workers was told that the company was closing the plant, and they would all be out of jobs.

Somewhere last week, a woman was told by her husband that he didn’t love her anymore.

Somewhere last week, a soldier’s husband received word that his wife was coming back from Iraq--in a casket, and that he would now raise his children on his own.

Somewhere last week, some of our neighbors lost their fight to stave off foreclosure, losing the only asset they had.

Somewhere last week, five of our neighbors were killed in an accident.

We know the dark places. Somewhere, sometime, we’ve all been there--in despair--for different reasons.

Mary was in the dark place because she had lost all hope. She and the others who followed Jesus had placed their hope in one who came at life in a different way. The world wanted a king who would dominate with might, and Jesus talked about the blessings of meekness.

The world wanted a messiah who would bring justice by way of the sword, and Jesus spoke of loving your enemies.

The powers spoke of punishment and retribution, but Jesus said forgive until you lose count.

The power structure spoke of containing God in a box in the temple with restricted access, and Jesus said, “the kingdom of God is within you.”

And now, those same authorities had taken Jesus and killed him--silencing him, and boxing up so that he could be managed and contained. And Mary had come to the garden tomb in the darkness to finish the job of embalming his lifeless body which had died along with all her hope.

She’d come to finish caring for the body of her Lord, but it was gone.

She ran to get the others.

They ran back.

Then they ran away.

They ran away because they didn’t understand it what the resurrection meant. The empty tomb was just an idea they couldn’t comprehend--a concept that had no meaning for them. Craig Barnes writes that we still run around when we don’t understand something.

So, they ran.

But Mary stayed. She cried, and bent over to look into the tomb. And in the tomb, two angels. The word angel simply means a messenger. But, these angels ask her a question, and she shows that she doesn’t understand what she sees.

Then the gardener asks her the same question, and she again demonstrates her total lack of comprehension.

And then, the gardener calls her by name, and the gardener is no longer the gardener, but Jesus. And by calling Mary by name, this is no longer a trip to the cemetery, but an encounter with the Risen Christ.

This is important--none of the disciples understand or comprehend what is going on. The resurrection as an idea is a failure. The resurrection as a concept doesn’t work. The resurrection as a theory has no validity whatsoever.

But, the resurrection as an encounter with Jesus is something else entirely--even if Mary still doesn’t completely get it. She wants to hold on to him--in her own way, to keep Jesus boxed up and under control, but that won’t work--not in the new world of the resurrection.

And that’s instructive for us. We’re not here because we are certain of our hold on Jesus Christ. We’re here because in Jesus Christ, we’re certain of God’s love for us.

We’re all here for the same reason--but not just because Mary had an encounter with the risen Lord, but because she told someone else about that encounter, then they encountered the risen Lord, and shared that with someone else. And all those encounters have become relationships.

And down through the last 2000 years, women and men have encountered the risen Lord, and shared that encounter with others.

And we are here today because we have all encountered the risen Lord, and we want to celebrate it together. Today, if not before, we have encountered the risen Christ in the waters of baptism. We have encountered the risen Lord in the singing and the praying, in the organ and the bells and in the choir. We have encountered him in the promises made with infants. And we will share the most intimate encounter with the risen Lord in the bread and the wine.

The resurrection is not an idea to be comprehended, or a doctrine to be believed. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is a reality to be experienced. It is an intimate encounter.

We sing “In the Garden,” not because it’s sweet and sentimental, but because when we do so, we acknowledge that Mary Magdalene’s story has become our story--that’s what that hymn’s about! And we are now part of an ongoing and unfolding story of Jesus Christ.

Now, after having this encounter with the risen Lord, we have a job to do. Now, though we’ve already established that you are at my job, this job belongs to everyone. We are called to share the good news that this encounter is available for all.

The good news is, there’s a savior on the loose--not boxed up all neat and tidy--but out there in the real world, coming up along side us in all our dark places. And he knows all our names.

03-09-2008 The First Tears to Fall

Fifth Sunday in Lent

John 11:1-45

A few years ago, Kate and I decided that we could be television programming executives. Every year, we watch the new shows on the television, and determine, with surprising accuracy which will be the first to cancelled.

Every year. Without fail.

And, do you know what our single criterion is? It’s the show that’s the most intelligent. That’s the one they cancel first.

This year it was Journeyman, about a reporter who gets sent back in time by--who knows, God? Anyway, he gets sent back in time to fix what once went wrong in the lives of families--often at the expense of his own relationships.

We saw the first episode, and we knew, it was simply too good. I think they’re running War of the Gladiators or something like it in its place.

Eighteen years ago, it was a show called American Dreamer, starring the late Ohioan Robert Urich--also as a reporter. His character had been a world traveling reporter who, following the death of his wife, had decided to settle down in a small Mid-Western town and write a column for the local paper.

The show only ran a handful of episodes (again, it was too good), but I will never forget one episode as long as I live.

In this episode, the reporter and some others go down to the local coffee shop to meet the new Episcopal priest in town, who’s something of a novelty--a woman.

In the course of the conversations, talk turns to God, and the reporter goes silent. The priest asks him why he doesn’t want to talk about God.

He says he doesn’t believe. She presses for the reason.

He then tells the story of how his wife had been killed by a terrorist bombing in Beirut, while they were sitting together at a café not unlike the one they were now in. He described in detail how the bomber came into the place and detonated the bomb at the counter where his wife had stepped to get more coffee, and blown her to bits.

He then turned to face the priest and asked, “if your God is real, why didn’t he stop that bomber? Why did God let this happen to my wife?”

The priest looked right at him, and said these unforgettable words, “I don’t know. But I know this; the first tears to fall were God’s.

I have never forgotten those words, and I pray I never will. I pray that after this morning you will never forget them, either, because they are so very important.

This story--the bible story, that is--is a very interesting one. Jesus gets word that his friend Lazarus was sick--even close to death, and he does nothing. He doesn’t set out for Bethany, but waits until Lazarus will have been dead for four days. Unlike the Journeyman in the TV series, who goes back in time to set things right, Jesus makes them right in real time--here and now.

We know, because we’ve peeked ahead, that Lazarus is going to be alright. But this story is a major crisis in the life of this family. Given the dynamics of life in that day, the loss of their brother was devastating emotionally, but may well have meant financial disaster for Martha and Mary--maybe even homelessness. Women couldn’t own property. Maybe they would be out on the street.

And this story is a metaphor for the salvation of the world. Mary and Martha are tested and they are faithful--even though they let their anger and grief flow freely. What is really going on here is not only a family crisis in Bethany but the crisis of the world, not only the raising of a dead man but the giving of life to the world.

On one level the story is about the death and resurrection of Lazarus, but on another it is about the death and resurrection of Jesus. The sisters want their brother back, to be sure, but Jesus is also acting to give life to the world. Jesus says this to Martha at the heart of the reading: "I am the resurrection and the life."

The cruel irony of this story is striking. In John’s gospel, one of the events that precipitates the trial and execution of Jesus is the unrest caused by the raising of Lazarus from the dead. In other words, Jesus, by raising Lazarus from the dead, is now sentencing himself to death. In order to release Lazarus from the tomb, he will place himself in a tomb.

When we were little, we all learned what was the shortest verse in all of the bible. In those days it was probably the King James Version, or even the RSV. In both of those, the shortest verse is John 11:35.

Jesus wept.

Some have commented over the centuries that Jesus stood at the tomb weeping because he was experiencing the pain of knowing that he himself was headed toward the grave. That he was experiencing a kind of precursor to Gethsemane. I don’t buy it.

In order for that to be true, Mary and Martha and Lazarus would be props in a larger play, or mere pawns in a cruel game. They are real people with real pain and real grief. And when Jesus stands at the entrance to the tomb where Lazarus lay, I want to scream, “don’t just stand there crying, DO SOMETHING!”

But, the shortest verse of the bible tells us so very much. Because Jesus is doing something. In that moment where the savior of the world--with the power to raise people from the dead, and heal the sick, and restore sight to the blind--in that moment, Jesus is connecting on a very intimate level with you and me and every human being who has ever lived on this planet.

In that moment, Jesus is experiencing the pain of losing a loved one. Jesus is experiencing the depth of human emotions in such a way not previously known first hand by God. In that moment, the Savior of the world is getting in touch with us in a way that God never had done before.

At Christmastime, I marvel at the incarnation--God becoming flesh--and proclaim that when God becomes human in Bethlehem, nothing can be the same. Not for us, and not for God. John says in the prologue of this gospel, “and the word became flesh, and lived among us, full of grace and truth.”

In that moment at the tomb outside Bethany, Jesus is touching all of us by crying, just like we do.

I’ve shared with you my fondness for the Orthodox belief that Jesus was baptized in order to make all waters holy. So that when you are baptized, when we are baptized, when Craig and Autumn and Charity were baptized on Easter morning, Jesus Christ is in those waters.

I believe that Jesus cried in order to make all tears holy. Jesus cried, so that when you cry, God is in your tears.

When God in Jesus Christ cried at Lazarus’ tomb on the outskirts of Bethany, as with all the other remarkable things John records, nothing is the same. We are not alone in our grief. We are not alone. We are never alone.

Frida Kahlo was a brilliant Mexican surrealist painter of the first half of the 20^th century. Due to a horrible accident in her teens, she spent most of her short life in pain. Her paintings reflect that.

She was also a communist, and befriended Leon Trotsky after Stalin exiled him to Mexico. In fact, she had an affair with him. In the 2002 movie of Kahlo’s life, Trotsky says to her, “you paint what most people feel--that we are all alone in pain.”

Thankfully, we are not Trotskyites. We are Christians--which means that we belong to the living God in Jesus Christ. And that God is not a distant far-off being unconnected to us. No, our savior has suffered physical pain on the cross, where he also endured the spiritual pain of feeling abandoned by God, his Father. And he has suffered and endured the pain of grief and loss, and has shed his tears on this earth for our sake. We are not all alone in pain. We have each other

I have told you before that one of the worst days of my life was the day my brother died. One day, we’re talking on the phone, the next, he is dead. I went home--numb, blind. Kate left her office to travel the hour it would take to be with me.

During that hour, I sat in my living room in the parsonage, and cried my eyes out. This was my big brother--the buffer between me and my own mortality. As I sat and cried, two church members came in the house, and sat with me in the living room. David and JoAnn King. They were Stephen Ministers in our congregation--the leaders of that program, in fact.

They sat. I don’t remember if they said anything at all. But they cried with me. Their tears and my tears and Jesus’ tears were all mixed together and I remembered that line from the TV show so long ago. “The first tears to fall were God’s.”

Even in the midst of the pain I still feel in my grief, I can proclaim good news to you, because all of us, and each of us have cried, and will cry again. Both Isaiah and Revelation point to a time to come in which God will wipe away all tears--notice it does not say that there will be no tears, but that they will be wiped away. Matthew’s Jesus says, in the Sermon on the Mount, that we who mourn are blest, for we will be comforted.

That comfort begins in knowing, each time we are in pain, the first tears to fall are God’s.

_{First Christian Church Sermons by Chris Whitehead Mansfield, Ohio}

_{March 9, 2008}

02-24-2008 The Great Samaritan Revival

John 4

Imagine, if you will, your worst neighbor.

• I’m talking about the guy who let’s his dog out the front door so that your yard gets messed up.

• When he goes to work, which is seldom, he backs his truck into your mailbox.

• I’m talking about the guy who the cops come after on Saturday night because he’s beating his wife--well, not his wife, but his current girlfriend.”

• I’m talking about the guy who never gets invited to the neighborhood association meetings, because the meetings are about him--about the contents of his front year, which include (in part) a 1979 Chevrolet on blocks, two washing machines in varying states of disrepair, a wheelbarrow with one broken handle, and a dog of indeterminate breeding chained to the door handle of the 1979 Chevy--are you getting a picture here?

But to top it off, the guy’s a Michigan fan. A Wolverine, for God’s sake!

OK. Imagine, further, that this guy comes tearing down the street one day in his maize-and-blue, smoke-belching, no-bumper pickup truck with the Wolverine paint-job on the cab, leaning on the horn. This brings everyone out of their homes to confront this guy, because this is the last straw.

You and your neighbors surround this guy and begin to close in on him when he holds up his hands and shouts, “wait!”

The mob stops moving. He catches his breath and starts again.

“There’s a woman down at Wal-Mart you’ve got to come and see…”

Laughter spreads through the crowd, and a voice from the back calls out, “It’s always a woman with you.”

He holds his hands over his heart, “No, this is different. She told me everything I’ve ever done.”

The voice from the back again said, “Everyone in Richland County know what you’ve done.”

More laughter.

But, then you notice that tears are streaming down his face. And something happens. To the whole crowd. And each of you and all of you turn and get your cars and follow this ne’er-do-well to the store to meet this woman who knew everything he ever did.

Far-fetched? More like impossible. But, we’re beginning to expect impossible things happening in the Gospel of John. This scene is precisely what is described in the Gospel of John--actually only two verses of the long reading for today.

But, that’s the most interesting part of this lesson--the interaction of the woman we’ve come to know simply as the woman at the well and her neighbors.

Never mind that she is a Samaritan. The Samaritans were half-breeds (they’d intermarried with the Babylonians, and they refused to come and worship in Jerusalem. They had their own temple at Gerazim--except Gerazim didn’t exist anymore. A Judean priest had destroyed the temple and the city a century and a half before this. That went a long way to foster good relationships between the Jews and the Samaritans.

The woman was correct in pointing out that Jews and Samaritans mix about like oil and water. More like gasoline and fire. When we call the character in Luke’s parable, “The Good Samaritan,” we can’t fathom what that kind of thinking was like for Jews in Jesus’ time.

George Coats, who taught Hebrew Scriptures for a long time at Lexington Seminary, used to say that you couldn’t pronounce the Hebrew or Aramaic words for “Samaritans,” without forming your lips into a sneer.

Never mind that Jesus was talking to a (sneer) Samaritan.

Never mind that Jesus was talking to a woman. A woman in the middle Eastern world, still doesn’t talk to a strange man without a family member present. It just isn’t done. And the attitude of men towards women was, well, shall we say unenlightened.

Women spent a good portion of their lives in an unclean state (actually men did, too, but women got all the stigma). They weren’t considered reliable as witnesses in court. They couldn’t own property. From a man’s point of view, you could talk with a woman, but, why bother?

Never mind that Jesus was talking to a woman who was rejected by her own community. Some commentaries refer to her a “tramp,” because she’s had more husbands that Elizabeth Taylor (well, actually three fewer, but you know I’m not good with math.) Tramp is such a vulgar term, when trollop is so much more sophisticated.

Five husbands, and now, she’s shacked up. Maybe at some point you just don’t bother with the paperwork.

Feminist interpreters say that it is wrong to call this person a tramp or a trollop, because it might have been that she was married to five brothers who were following the levirate law designed to perpetuate the name of a dead husband.

Now, I’m very much open to feminist interpretations of the bible, but only when they’re right. And here, they’re not. Because this woman is rejected by her own. All the other women of the village go down to the well in the early morning, where they can talk and fellowship together. If this woman were welcome to join her neighbors down at the well in the cool of the morning, she would not be there all alone at the hottest point of the day to collect her water. The time of the day and that she is alone speaks volumes.

So, why is this important, never minding that she is a Samaritan, a woman, and a woman who is rejected by her own?

What we have here the longest discourse in all of the New Testament that Jesus has with any one, never mind a misfit Samaritan woman. And it is the first revelation of Jesus that he is the Messiah to anyone. This is an important biblical moment.

That being said, that’s not what interests me most about this chapter. What interests me most is the reaction of the townspeople to her when she comes and invites them to come and see this prophet who just might be the Messiah.

This is the kind of person you would reject out of hand. Come and see? Leave me alone. I have no use for you.

But what about her had changed since the morning? How is it that the sun can rise on a village that barely acknowledges one of its citizens (OK women weren’t real citizens, but even the women rejected her), and by the time the sun sets, this woman has started a massive revival--an event unparalleled in all the Gospels?

It wasn’t what she said. She doesn’t even say what she talked about with Jesus. There’s no theological thesis or even a good joke.

They are changed because she is changed, She walked out to that well as an outcast. She encountered an enemy, but her enemy received her and accepted her just as she was. With Jesus, she gained a sense of belonging so profound, so obvious, and unmistakable, that it bubbles up in her life like a well that needs no bucket.

The outcast who went out to the well at high noon has returned as one who belongs. And the boldness with which she invites them to come and see tells them that she now belongs not only to the one she has encountered at the well--but to them also. They can do nothing other than accompany their sister back to meet Jesus.

When they reach him, these Samaritans offer hospitality to a bunch of Jews and their teacher, whom they now claim to be the Savior of the world. Jesus stays in this village--with Samaritans--for two whole days. That’s longer than he stayed anywhere else other than Jerusalem or his home in Galilee.

This, church, is a world gone mad. Women leading revivals. Jews and Samaritans staying and eating together. Acting like they belong together.

Not long ago, I saw David Letterman interview Dennis Hopper, in which he was talking about his marriage--his fifth. Dave asked about how he got along with his in-laws, given that they were fairly straight-laced and Mr., Hopper, well, has led a very interesting life.

Dave interrupted him and asked, “Do you fit in?”

Hopper answered, “they’ve accepted me.”

Dave came back with, “But, that’s very different from fitting in.”

Hopper nodded and said, “yes it is.”

The audience howled. But it occurred to me in that moment, that in Jesus Christ, we don’t merely accept each other. Samaritans and Jews don’t just accept each other, they fit in. They belong. Jesus Christ drives us to a world in which women and men don’t merely accept each other, but they fit in. They belong. Jesus Christ pushes us to a state of being where gays and straights don’t just accept each other, but they fit in together. Blacks and whites. Americans and Iraqis. And dare I say it: Buckeyes and Wolverines?

John Humbert, our General Minister and President in the 80s and 90s, and a Buckeye, wrote that the number one ill in our society is alienation. The sense that we are not connected to each other. That we don’t belong.

You want to see alienation, picture that lone Samaritan woman on her way to the well, all alone.

That’s what ails our world, church. People are hurting to know that they belong to God and to us.

You know what? We need a revival in Mansfield. Not the kind where you pitch a tent or fill a stadium up with people and then tell them how bad they are. No, we need a revival like the Great Samarian Revival of long ago, where our experience of Christ is so conspicuous and so contagious that those around us cannot help but take notice.

We aren’t just accepted, we fit in. We belong. And that, my sisters and brothers, is good news, good news, indeed for us, and good news for the world. Amen.

First Christian Sermons by Chris Whitehead February 24, 2008