Cornerstones

On October 13, 1889 the first cornerstone of Zions Lutheran Church on Main Street in Akron, PA was laid.  83 years later, a new cornerstone was laid for a new building.  The old cornerstone was placed beside it.  These stones are the foundations of new buildings. Now they may represent the past, but then they symbolized a present and future hope. And that is what we are invited to see. 
Many changing, struggling, or dying institutions- like the church-cling to a nostalgic view of the past.  We remember and long for those halcyon days when our worship services were full of participants, our Sunday school classes full of kids, our staff and leaders full of energy and commitment.  Our institutional memory dates between 1965 and 1985, when many small mainline churches experienced the most growth and participation.  This is when baby boomers brought their families to church.  We forget that it was not always this way.  Consider that the first 50 years at Zion, communion was given and receive twice a year.  And for the first decade, the average number of communicants was 22 people.  The first 3 pastors over the first 20 years never communed more than 51 people.   The first two decades, the first three pastors baptized a total of 30 people.  They buried 26 people. 
Yes, Zions once had a worshiping attendance that exceeded 150 people, in the late 1970s and through the 1980s.  But declining worship attendance has been the pattern ever since then.  And I want to say, So What?  Zion has been many congregations over 130 years.  13 pastors, hundreds of people.  We are blessed to have a descendant of a charter member on our current church council.  Very few people here have institutional memories that preceed the 1940s.  Most of us who remain have memories of that golden age between 1965 and 1985.  I was born and raised in a Lutheran congregation during those years.  And I'm grateful for it. But those days are long gone.  We have to do the next thing, lay the next cornerstone, build the next church for our children and grandchildren.         
The church is at its best when it is taking risks, starting new ventures, planting and building something new.  Followers of Jesus live on the edge, on the margins, on the outer limit of institutional structures.  When we become stagnant managers of institutions, we avoid risk and ignore God's calling on us.  There is no call story in the bible that allows for the called person to keep on doing what they've been doing in the comfort of their own lives.  Abram and Sarai, Moses, Jonah, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Mary, Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Peter, Paul, Stephen, the disciples, the deacons, the evangelists and pastors---all were called to leave and go; to surrender and follow; to trust and move; to die in the hope of resurrection promises. 
In my tenure as pastor, we have explored the edges within the comfortable confines of the congregation.  Peter's Porch has allowed us to make contact, to welcome and serve our neighbors---and especially those who struggle with food, housing, health, and financial insecurity. We have been a stable and caring presence for about a decade now, serving breakfast and clothing and food to the guests we welcome here once a month. 
Dinner Church has been the furthest we have traveled beyond ourselves.  And we have met Jesus in those people we have encountered along the way.  I will never forget parking lot baptisms during Peter's Porch or the brave testimonies we have heard from people struggling with addiction, suffering from abuse, searching for an identity, longing to belong.  I have seen Jesus gathered around a big table, rich with food, where strangers become family and all the voices are expected to be heard.  Those gatherings cannot happen with 50 people.  They are extended family size gatherings that are ideally between 20 and 40 people, including children and adults from three or more generations.  I have written about and practiced dinner church for four years.  I believe in micro-churches; small, relational, mission-focused communities that gather with intention for spiritual connection. 

I think large congregations are important.  They can offer inspirational worship, lots of resources, a well- trained and gifted staff, and many learning opportunities.  But anonymity is rarely transformative and large congregations struggle to build caring, sustaining relationships.  They have to work hard to create more intimate experiences for people to get connected to one another. Big churches have to figure out how to create small churches within themselves.  This is because the heart and soul of church is a small group of people struggling to follow Jesus, encourage one another, do justice and serve humbly together.  Jesus did not recruit 5,000 hungry people.  Jesus recruited the 12 disciples.  And he sent them to feed those hungry people.  Some of them followed and shared and practiced and embodied his teachings.  Most ate the bread and went home.  I am personally focused on finding followers. And I think more Christian leaders should be.  Many people are not interested in large churches.  Too structured, too hierarchical, too consumeristic, many people want a more personal and relational community of faith and love.  Rather than financially manage and maintain a building, some people will connect to smaller gathering spaces.  House churches are emerging as an alternative to larger congregations.  We don't have to build new buildings to be the church.  But we can't be the church if we don't build new relationships through which people come to encounter Jesus and experience God's powerful grace. 
Cornerstones may also be new ideas.  A new way of being the people of God.  What are we building together?  What must be torn down to make way for the next thing God is calling us to do?  What if we joined forces with a large congregation (St. Paul Lutheran, Lititz) in order to become the church meeting on the edges?  What if we were the ones to start house churches and dinner churches and Peter's Porches in other places?  What if we risked the "stability" of weekly Sunday morning worship gatherings, in order to be on mission weekly? 
On Sunday, October 13th we will explore and envision our next cornerstone, even as we celebrate our first one.         
               
   

race, faith, and forgiveness

Last week, a white woman was convicted of murder.  She was a Dallas police officer who shot and killed a young black man in his own apartment.  She mistakenly believed he was trespassing in her apartment and shot him in the chest.  She wept on the witness stand in her own defense.  She expressed remorse.  On the night of the shooting, she apparently expressed her concern that she might lose her job over the deadly mistake.  Her lawyers used a sort of stand your ground defense, suggesting that she was defending herself and her apartment from what she believed was a break in.  As a police officer, she is trained to shoot with deadly accuracy.
After she is found guilty of murder, the younger brother of the victim offered her forgiveness from the stand.  He said he loved her like anyone else. He asked the judge for permission to giver her a hug.  They embraced.  Afterward, the judge herself gave her a hug and her own personal bible.  Both the judge and the victims's brother are African American people and Christians.  They offered the forgiveness of sins and a life in Christ for the defendant.
Many people were stunned and moved by their public witness, a testimony to their faith in God.  The victim;s parents were surprised by their son's testimony.  In their devastating grief, they were not yet willing to offer forgiveness.  In  fact, they continue to seek justice for their son. His murderer faced a life sentence; the prosecutors asked for 28 years ,the age of her victim, Botham Jean.  She received ten years, with the possibility of parole in 5.
If the racial identities had been reversed.  If a black man had accidentally shot and killed a white woman in her apartment, the trial and sentencing would have been much different.  No doubt, he would face the death penalty in Texas.  No doubt, there would be a lynching and little in the way of public forgiveness.  Race plays a major factor in sentencing. African Americans make up 14%% of the U.S. population and more than 40% of death row inmates.
Racial bias played a significant part in the murder of Botham Jean, in the trial, conviction, and sentencing of his murderer, and in the response by the judge and the brother.  A white woman experiences sympathy and forgiveness.  African Americans are expected to suffer violence and forgive.  They're supposed to behave like Christians, to model Christ like behavior.  Black grief and cries for justice are heard as excessive emotional outbursts.   The racist double standard is that the white person is offered a chance for restored innocence, while the black family's grief and anger is perceived as excessively punitive. 
What's troubling is that forgiveness is good, godly, Christ-like and worthy of imitation.  Its just that black folks are either being punished by white folks for being black or they're forgiving white people for violently mistreating them because they are black.  The expectation and practice of public forgiveness suggests that its okay for white people to abuse, hurt, or unjustly treat black people.  It excuses racist acts like the one that took Botham Jean's life and the lives of Michael brown, Eric Garner, and Freddie Gray.  White people can and should be forgiven for their crimes against black men.  This is the painful truth of a racist society.  Quick to forgive, we see the psychological effects of internalized racial oppression.  In the name of Jesus, the system is perpetuated.   
In this case, should the sentence have been longer?  Would that have brought about justice?  Should they have withheld the public act of forgiveness?  Botham Jean's mother commended her son for his courageous and faithful act in the courtroom.  But she also demanded reform to a corrupt and racially biased criminal justice system.  And she is right.  Her son's death must lead to change in law enforcement practices and in rooting out racially baised profiling that turns deadly when coupled with gun violence. 
How do Christians wrestle with this?  Do we show mercy and offer forgiveness? Do we seek justice for the oppressed?  Do we lift up the systemic racism that causes these deadly encounters?  Do we pray?  Do we give away bibles and "let God do the rest of the work?"
I think Christians need to have an open conversation about racism, about violence, about systemic oppression, and about repentance.  Forgiveness without the hard and necessary work to transform  unjust systems is complicity with injustice.  Justice without forgiveness is often retributive and punitive.
The hardest work begins inside my own heart and mind.  How am I confronting my own biases, prejudices, and privileged place in a racist system that favors whiteness and maleness?  What stories do I still need to hear in order to change?