I can stand anywhere in my back yard and see my church. It sits rather majestically at the apex of our little town. Its stained glass windows chronicle its founders. Inside, a huge chandelier hovers over our pew. I don’t know who appointed us to sit in that particular pew, but it must have been someone of great authority since no one in our family has strayed from it in my lifetime; except of course for those occasions when special services have attracted those who are not well-schooled in the “divine order.” On those occasions I’ve often exited my Sunday school class and found my ordained pew occupied. Other members have encountered the same problem. Some of them have remedied the inconvenience by leaving Sunday school early on Sundays when large crowds may disrupt the natural order.
When I got married in 1988 my wife and I did move to the seat directly behind my mother. I expect that one day I’ll be called to account for moving without securing the approval of whatever official designates those seating arrangements. In the meantime I feel somewhat more secure being a little removed from the center of that chandelier. Sitting beneath it has always made me a little uneasy; even after I found that it was not brass, as I had suspected throughout my childhood, but mere plaster.
That church has hosted the celebration of the major milestones of my life. I was baptized there in 1951; confirmed there in 1963 and married there in 1988. I wasn’t sure it would host any celebrations after that wedding. After all, our little church was not accustomed to harboring the Pentecostals that made up my wife’s side of the guest list. As it turned out they were well behaved (actually they were hard to distinguish from the “mainliners”) and the church has survived to host many functions since then.
In spite of its preeminence in my life, my church has not been a site of great ecumenical history, although it appears some prophecy did take place there in the early 60’s. Our pastor’s wife was standing at the back of the church as I entered one morning. Apparently I was wearing a new sports coat or something else that gave me a pastoral appearance. At any rate she was prompted to comment, “You know, I think you’ll be a preacher some day.” That may not be the exact quote. It wasn’t exactly good news to a boy in his early teens, and didn’t seem worth remembering at the time. Nonetheless, I suppose becoming a licensed minister could be considered a measure of fulfilled prophecy.
In the past twenty years that church has withstood two great spiritual battles. In the late 70’s our current pastor, apparently possessed by demons, moved the altar from it’s God-ordained position at the front of the sanctuary to a location between the pulpit area and the congregation. Fortunately, some of the church fathers who were around when God put the altar where he intended it to remain raised enough raucous that even the demons could no longer stand it. The altar was returned to its rightful position.
The other great battle occurred several years ago. The windowsills and frames were to be refinished. The contractor informed us that stripping and refinishing was out of the question. The woodwork would have to be painted. Great debate ensued over what color should be used. Some people thought they should be painted brown to preserve the appearance that had brought so much solace and comfort over the years. Others had visited different churches, (a practice we tolerate but don’t encourage) and had seen white woodwork. Those folks were certain that white windows would be most appropriate for a church as pure as ours.
The issue finally came down to a vote. The browns won. Nobody actually left the church over the issue, but I have observed that certain members turn their heads or close their eyes when passing those windows in order to spare themselves the grim reminder of their horrible defeat.
A few other controversial issues loom in the future. We’re discussing the possibility of having foot washing or spiritual healing services at certain times of the year. It’s a part of our current pastor’s effort to stimulate our spiritual growth. They’re no big deal really; certainly nothing as momentous as altar placement or the color of our woodwork.
Over the years the building has experienced several major renovations and a multitude of minor ones. A large number of pastors have left their imprint on building and flock. Average attendance has gone from 200 to 40 and back to 110. Yet, in spite of the many changes, the church stands today, on the corner of 10th and Church Streets, just as it did when it was first built over 100 years ago. One hundred years of experience has not moved the physical structure two feet in any direction.
Obviously the church that Christ had in mind when he proclaimed Peter as its foundation is a far cry from the one I’ve described. Unfortunately, the tongue-in-cheek image I’ve given you of my church is an image that may be keeping others from entering its doors. While I could give you a much lengthier description stating all the positive work that has been carried out there, it seems our focus is too often on the trivialities.
When Jesus spoke of the church he was not speaking of mortar, bricks, stained-glass windows and chandeliers; but of flesh and blood and the collective souls of those who recognized him as the Messiah and Son of God. Granted, when Peter confessed Christ he was not aware of exactly what that Sonship really meant. Perhaps the church today still suffers from misconceptions. But surely we recognize Christ’s perception of the church was of a body of people. People who in spite of their inadequacies were ready to move forward in faith. People who would take bold moves based on God’s revelation through Jesus Christ; just as the Israelites took bold moves based on Yahweh’s personal revelation to them. Yet, I would guess that most churches, like my own, find their boards bogged down with building and budget-directed issues much more than mission directed ones. Why?
You may have noticed that throughout this sermon I’ve spoken of “my church.” I’ve spoken of it as though it were a personal possession, like “my car,” or “my clothes.” I even spoke of the pew as though it were mine, probably with less satire than I care to admit.
We need to realize that the church as Christ spoke of the church can never be referred to as “my church,” or even “our church.” It’s Christ’s church, and every lapse from that realization is a hindrance to its mission. Every lapse from that realization endangers us of placing more emphasis on the stain on the window sills than the stain on the cross; of placing more importance on the placement of the altar in the sanctuary than the place of Christ in our hearts.
This is not to suggest that there is not an element of personal ownership involved. In fact ownership is a prerequisite if the church is to make any meaningful advancement in its mission. The ownership, however, is that which Jesus holds over us. Remember that Christ’s proclamation to Peter came only after Peter had confessed him as the Son of God. It was then, that Christ bestowed on him the power as the leader of the church. Why? Jesus answered that question: “Flesh and blood have not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” Peter was beginning to see the mission of Christ as something more than a political maneuver to advance the cause of a select few. Peter was beginning to develop a vision that saw beyond the selfish interests which are generally promoted by flesh and blood. He was acquiring a God-directed vision, one on which the church is to move. This is the vision which is needed if we are to see the church, not a host to the elite, but the elect.
What makes us the elect; the size of our bank account? No. Is it our occupation, or position within the community? No. It is our faith, demonstrated through discipleship. And what does our election mean? Listen to these words from 1 Peter 2:9-10. “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.”
That’s the reason we have been chosen. The people of God are to declare the deeds of the God who brought us out of the darkness. In so doing we are to assist in guiding others out of that darkness and into the light. We are to be the salt of the earth, the light of the world. That is the mission of the church.
If the church is to succeed in that mission it must recognize two facts. The first, which I’ve already mentioned, is that this is a mission for people, not for buildings. Those marvelous edifices that house our worship services are no more capable of spreading the Good News than the White House is capable of governing the country. The task is in the hands of the occupants.
And that brings us to the second fact. The church is a community of faith; a community that frequently seems to be composed of a small portion of the total populace. That being the case, it is important for that community to set its differences aside and concentrate on becoming the one body of Christ. That means we may have to put aside those labels, fundamentalist, liberals, etc., and go back to just being Christians.
Paul addressed a similar issue when he dealt with the Gentile problem in Ephesus. Perhaps we need to take note of it today. We read in chapter 2 of Ephesians, “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near in the blood of Christ. For he is our peace, who has made us both one, and has broken down the dividing wall of hostility, by abolishing in his flesh the law of commandments and ordinances that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby bringing the hostility to an end…” Paul also gives us a pretty good blueprint for a church. He says, beginning in vs 19, “So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built into it for a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.
A church built on such a plan can never be confined
to a street corner.
