This church is not awesome. We are not special. We are not uniquely called to grow. We do not offer worship or programs that
inspire. Your pastor is not so funny or
super generous or really kind or an amazing preacher. I will not entertain or make you feel good. We are not awesome. If you’re looking for
something more awesome, you’ll have to go somewhere else. Sorry to burst your bubble, if I did.
When Jesus returns to his teaching about suffering,
death, and resurrection the disciples, according to Mark, did not understand
him and were afraid to ask. In Greek
they were literally frightened agnostics. An agnostic is someone who is
uncertain about their beliefs, on the fence as it were. Agnostics lean on empirical knowledge,
evidence, scientific facts. Maybe the
disciples get tripped up about the rising again bit. More likely they don’t understand the
suffering and death part. It didn’t jive
with their version of the future with Jesus Messiah. This Kingdom of God movement has a leader, if
he dies so dies the movement. We’ve been
over this. They were expecting
greatness. Power. Authority.
Demonstration of divine might—plagues, fire, brimstone, armed angels
ready to battle. They were expecting a superhero. And they believed that Jesus was him. And they expected a personal reward for
choosing or being chosen as his followers, his men. Why were they afraid? They didn’t want to look stupid, doubtful,
incompetent. And certainly not in front
of the other guys. Can you imagine being
the guy on the team who still doesn’t get the game plan? Nobody wants to be that guy. That guy sits the bench. That guy gets ridiculed. That guy gets dumped from the team.
So, along the way they argue about rank and position
and rewards for fidelity and proximity to Jesus. Who knew him the best? Who did
he trust the most? Who was his
lieutenant? Who was his favorite? Who was the strongest? Smartest?
Most loyal? I don’t think this
was a fight, more of a playful game of male dominance and pecking order. Everything’s a competition here. Everyone is vying
for attention and the right to be where they are. Everyone wants to have their seat at the
table, to prove their worth, that they deserve to be here.
When they get home, Jesus sits down to teach. He says, “Whoever would be the greatest must
be the last and servant of all. And he
brings a child into his arms and says, “Whoever welcomes a child like this one,
welcomes me and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” I don’t think this was the most offensive
thing Jesus ever said or did. Even though children were disregarded,
undervalued, and dismissed in that culture.
Especially by men. I don’t think
that was the point this time.
I think congregations are acting like
agnostic disciples. We don’t get the whole suffering,
death, and resurrection bit as it applies to ourselves and the advancement of
the Kingdom. And we are in competition
with all the other congregations for resources, people and money. We’re silent about this, would never pray
that God send us more people and money, but we wish it. I think Lutherans are competing over which
congregation serves the best. Who does the most serving, giving, feeding, etc…Our
badge of honor is how many people we serve.
Same as McDonalds. Over a billion
served. People always ask, how big is
your congregation? How many
members? And we tend to say something
like: “We’re a small congregation, but
we do a lot of good things.” We have to
prove ourselves with empirical evidence, like agnostics. Because of our insecurity. When only 40 people show up on Sunday, we
feel disappointed. I know I do. I’m embarrassed
to say that I get frustrated still when there are “only 40 people here”. We have a purpose because we served this many
people, gave this much money to Malaria, assembled this many kits. We should exist. We’re still a church with value. Maybe most of you don’t care about these
things at this stage. Maybe you don’t
think about the future of Zion, Akron much.
Maybe you’re content to come when you feel like it or when you’re not
out of town. Maybe you’re not reminiscent
for the good ol’ days. Maybe you just
love one another. And that’s good
enough.
Don’t get me wrong, I am impressed by the production
of this congregation. I brag about us
more than I should. And today I am
grateful for every person who participates.
I’m grateful for Pastor Bob and Dodie, who bring wisdom, servant hearts,
and the high calling of the gospel to us.
But none of this matters. It does not matter how many baptisms or new
members we receive. It doesn’t matter
how many people we served at Peter’s Porch or failed to serve. That is not the gospel. The good news is not
that Zion is growing, that we have enough money to pay the bills, that worship
is so awesome, dinner church is thriving, Malaria goals are reached.
The gospel is
Jesus the Messiah was crucified and raised from the dead. The gospel is Jesus is in the house and on the
way with us. His death and resurrection
joins God to this world of suffering and joins this world of suffering and
death to the God of life. This is so
because God loves what God made, all of it.
And love does what love must do to insure the life of the beloved. We are safe.
Jesus is always in the house. God
is always with us where we are. And a
sign of it is one child in our midst. So
long as there is one child to welcome, we have a calling and a purpose and a
way to live. We are servants of all.
Nothing else makes us church. Servants
of All. A disciples question is only
this one: “How may we serve today?” We are not awesome, powerful, and super good.
But the one I’m following is. And that’s
the only thing that counts now and in the end.
Amen.
