Sermon for 10th Sunday after Pentecost--Finding the Church

One of my favorite stories was told by Carlyle Marney one of the great preachers of the 20th century. He served a church in Austin, Texas and after many years he was called to the Myers Park Church In Charlotte, N.C. After he moved, people would come up to him and ask him how he liked living in Charlotte and how he liked his new church. And he would say, “Well, I like it just fine, but I’m having just a little trouble.” They’d perk up their ears, “Trouble?” “Yes, I having trouble finding the church. It’s just really hard to find. You know, I just keep looking and looking. I know it’s here somewhere, but I’m having a little trouble finding the church. I know it’s here somewhere—but I haven’t found it yet.”

So one of the things I have done as Interim Pastor is trying to find the church. One of the great passages of scripture is in Matthew 16. It is one of the hinge-turning moments in the ministry of Jesus. It’s the watershed that makes all the difference in the story. Scholars call it the Confession at Caesarea Philippi.

Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do men say that I am?” And they began to give the appropriate answers, right out of the book: “John the Baptists, Elijah, Jeremiah, one of the prophets. But Jesus zeroes in and says, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon, who always had an answer said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” And Jesus said, “Upon this rock I will build my church.” Then, interestingly, in Matthew 16.21 we read how serious this is: “From that time, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”

What we have here is one of the most controversial passages in the whole of the New Testament. A great many books have been written on these verses. Churches have debated their meaning. Upon what rock do we build a church? Whole denominations have started on the interpretation of what the foundation of the church really is. Is the Church built on Simon Peter, the first pope? What is the foundation of the church? What is this rock? Is it on Jesus? The testimony of Simon? Or do we build the church on anybody and everybody that bows a knee and says deep in their hearts: “We do believe Jesus is Lord.” If I had to pick and choose I think I would pick the last theory: Jesus built his church on the testimony of all those who respond to him and love him and follow him.

After I retired and before I started working as Interim, my wife and I began to visit churches—looking for a new church home. I could tell you some horror stories of what we found. Terrible music. No mystery in many of the churches. Lousy preaching. Some as cold as a refrigerator. Why, you would have thought we were invisible. One woman turned around to Gayle (my wife) during the Passing of the Peace, asked her name and welcomed her. After the service she said to Gayle: “Margie we are glad to have you here…won’t you stay for Sunday School, Margie.” I have been calling her Margie ever since. But let me tell you what I was looking for in a church. Three words, really. Rooted in the heart of the New Testament. Without these three words there is no church.

Kerygma

The first thing I’m looking for when I come to church is the word, kerygma. Mark was the one who wrote the first Gospel, and his book would blaze a trail for all those that would follow. He began his remarkable work by saying, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” “The beginning of the good news…” This is what gospel means. It was a proclamation. It was a good, good news of great joy. It was good tidings that the angels sang about that first Christmas. Without this good news there would have been no church.

So scholars have researched this word, kerygma and they came across several points that were made in all those early Christian sermons. This was the dawn of the Messianic age. The prophecies of the Messiah were now being filled in Jesus. Always there was a brief account of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The resurrection—the Easter story—was at the heart of that message. The coming of the Holy Spirit, of course, was there. They were reminded that Jesus would one day come again. Then they always ended their message saying everybody could repent regardless of what they had done and everybody could find forgiveness; everybody could be changed inside and out.

Old cripples lying by muddy pools for years, and little children who had little to live for, and prostitutes that all the good people hated, and tax collectors that were despised by their own kind and even the “beggars in velvet” discovered that they could find a place and they could find a power in their own empty lives. It was an inclusive message that took all in and changed all who came.

So the first word I look for is kerygma—good news. And this is one of the essences of church. In every church I have ever served, there have been people there who are having a hard, hard time with church. For, you see, all their lives they have heard bad news, not good news. They have had something crammed down their throats and somehow they still have indigestion from it. They were forced to sit on those hard benches for years and years. And they got scared of hell and the devil and punishment and feeling that God would never, ever accept them. They heard only half the message. They understood, like most us, the guilt. Most of them never heard the grace.

But Simon preached what Mark knew, that kerygma is a good news. “Behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall come to all peoples.” The church lost one of its finest writers when Elizabeth O’Connor died. In one of her books she said: “Go ye into all the world has two meanings, It is a missionary word—to do evangelism. The church is to take the good news to those who do not know. But Ms. O’Connor said that this go ye is also an inner word. That “Go ye” means that this gospel word is to penetrate every part of our beings also. For she says there are places that yet have to be addressed in our lives by this good, good news. That deep down within every one of us there are parts that need to be converted still. There are lost territories in all our many selves. So this good news says we can face the old sins and old habits of self-destructiveness that have haunted us all our lives.

Now I don’t know what your broken places or lost territories are. Those parts of you that have never heard the gospel. It might be unresolved grief or guilt or not being able to let something go and forgive someone. It could be sex or an obsession with money or things or bitterness or rage or guilt or the black dog, depression. Everybody in this room has some lost territory—most of us more than one. But we need to remember this morning that the good tidings and the good news is for all of us. That’s the first word I’m looking for in church—kerygma—good news.

Diakonia

The second thing is that when you find the church you will always find this second word, diakonia. Simon made the great confession and said, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” He learned it’s meaning later in that Upper Room when Jesus knelt with a basin and towel and began to wash their feet. And Simon protested, “Get up Lord. Get up. That’s servant’s business. You will never ever wash my feet.” But that night Jesus just took Simon’s sandals off and with a basin of water and towel taught him about the essence of the gospel. The word, Diakonate (Deacon) comes from this serving word.

Diakonia is where the word deacon comes from. Servant in another meaning. The word shepherd flows out from this word. For, you see, church is the place where you wash somebody else’s feet. And church is the place where you have your feet washed as well. And, like Simon, we don’t like that.

Several years ago a book called, The Search for Excellence, became a best seller. Do you remember what it was about? It told the stories of some of the most successful corporations in America and how they got that way. We need to read that book again today. Somewhere this word, service got lost. Greed has corrupted business after business. Service is not some CEO who makes 400 times more than his or her workers. Sometimes I wonder if one of the reasons that companies are having such a difficult time is that they have forgotten they are supposed to be in business to serve their customers.

There is no real church without this word, diakonia. We really are foot-washing people. We really do touch the wounds and heal the broken spots and we really do hug and lift one another up and bring casseroles and pray and pray and pray. And so, if I find the church there will always be a little group of foot washers with an apron and a basin and towel. Jesus said, “You save your life by losing it.” And I put that down beside, “I’m leaving because I am not being fed…” or “I’m leaving because my needs are not being met.” But Jesus said, “You save your life when you lose your life…” When you find the word, diakonia you will always find the church.

Koinonia

But there is another word: koinonia. Fellowship. Why has the church sung, “Blest Be the Tie that binds our hearts in Christian love” since it found its way into an English hymnbook in 1782? Why do we keep singing it decade after decade? Because without fellowship there is no church.

I love the way someone expressed it:

We meet awkwardly at first…eyeing each other…then we begin to talk about the weather…safe subjects…then family sizes: How many brothers and sisters do you have. Are you the eldest? We talk about what we have in common. As we spend more time we begin to learn how each of us has come to where we are. We are amazed at our capacity to understand one another’s pasts…fascinated by each other’s stories…human stories…of crying and growing and laughing and sighing. A strange thing happens. It is no longer us and them…but we the way God meant it to be.

So we find the church when we find this word, koinonia, fellowship. It is a place that lets us be who we are and cares for us and gives us room and helps us grow. Sometimes, like in a family, we will be told we are off the beam when we are. Sometimes we get off track and the lines get tangled—but we have to untangle those lines because without this intangible thing called fellowship—love for one another—we don’t have church. We don’t have church at all. It keeps on enlarging the circle. Taking in. And forgiving one another—which may be the hardest part. And slowly, sometimes very slowly putting all the hurt behind you and moving on.

I heard this wonderful story about an older woman whose husband had died and she lived a long way off from her only daughter. The daughter was worried about her mother. Her house was getting old and needed a lot of repair. Her neighborhood was changing and not as safe as it used to be. So the daughter kept talking to her mother about moving to the town where she lived. The woman just shook her head. But one day she decided to move. And she did. When Sunday came she put on her finery and went to the church down the street. She called her daughter that afternoon and said, “Guess what I did this morning? I joined the church.” The daughter said, “You did what? Don’t you think it is too early? You don’t know those people. Mama, you should have waited.” And you know what her mother said? “Land sakes, honey when you join the church you never have to be lonesome again.” Do you think she found the church? I think she found the church.