Showing posts with label new life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new life. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Make the Church Together

I enjoy keeping up with the latest news, but I completely understand my wife’s desire to avoid it. All too often the news – whether international, national or local – overflows with accounts of darkness, death and despair. Just last Friday, for instance, came word of yet another school shooting – this one in the state of Washington.  Three teens, including the shooter, died. Two others were hospitalized. Another community would be haunted by questions that had no easy answers.

Flipping through some of my father’s sermons last night, I came upon one that reminded me that we're hardly the first generation to deal with horrible events like these. In 1985, a 25 year-old woman suffering from mental illness went on a shooting rampage at a shopping mall in Springfield, Delaware County, PA – less than 15 miles from my father’s church.  The shooting left three dead – including a two year-old boy – and seven wounded. As my dad stood in the pulpit a few weeks later, he passed along a story that he heard in the wake of the tragic events of that day at the Springfield Mall. It’s a story about the very nature of Christ’s Church – a story of how we all make the Church together. Here’s what he said:

Bruce Hazelwood, the pastor of Covenant United Methodist Church in Springfield, told a small group of us pastors the other day of a powerful event that grew out of the aftermath of the tragic shooting several weeks ago at the Springfield Mall. Dr. Trout, who was critically wounded in that shooting, is a member of Bruce’s congregation. [A]s his pastor, Bruce was at the hospital soon after Dr. Trout and the other victims were brought in. Killed in that sad event, you remember, was Recife Cosman – a little boy from Chester who with his family are from one of our United Methodist Churches in Chester. The Cosmans’ pastor was also there at the hospital, of course, attempting to bring support and comfort to this family in this time of the sudden, senseless, and overwhelming loss of their little son.

After things settled down a bit and all the emergency medical needs had been attended to, the hospital provided the families and pastors with a room in which to gather. Many hospital staff members also were there, for they too had been deeply affected by this terrible event.

As the pastor from Chester read words of comfort, Bruce said he looked around and realized what an amazing sight he was privy to. The room in which these people had crowded to seek comfort from God and each other was the lounge of the maternity unit; all of its decorations and appointments spoke of new life. There was a white nurse holding a black baby, and persons of every age, professional people, laborers, and the unemployed. Black and white from Chester and from Springfield, holding one another, acknowledging in that moment their need of one another, and their need of God. The diversity and the unity in the setting of that maternity lounge was a powerful witness.

Bruce said that in that moment there was etched in his mind this model of what the Church really is – a gathering of diverse persons from every age and station and walk in life, persons bound to one another in mutual love and support, bound together by the Lord in whom they find their common ground, while the earth trembles beneath their feet, and all of this taking place within the context of a promise of new life and hope for those who will continue to make the Church together.

From "Make the Church Together"
Acts 6:1-7; Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-16

Monday, July 21, 2014

A Witness to New Life

Yesterday, during worship at Newtown United Methodist Church, I assisted Dorry while she served communion to the congregation. As each worshiper came forward, Dorry tore a piece of bread from the communion loaf and gently placed it in the worshiper's outstretched hands, saying, "This is Jesus Christ, the Bread of Heaven." Then, I offered the communion chalice to the worshiper, saying, "This is Jesus Christ, the Cup of Salvation." The worshiper dipped the bread into the cup and ate. Again and again, we did this until everyone who came forward was served. But no matter how many times we repeated this ritual, it felt no less personal and powerful. Dorry and I were privileged witnesses to each worshiper's intimate encounter with the Risen Savior. There's a warmth, a radiance, a hum in serving communion that is difficult to describe.
I don't know how many times my father served communion over more than twenty years of ministry, but early in that ministry, at the first church he served after being ordained, he hit upon the power of communion in the life of the Christian. On one communion Sunday, his sermon began with a pair of parables told by Jesus:  “No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. Otherwise, the new piece will pull away from the old, making the tear worse. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.”
-Mark 2:21-22 (NIV).

Dad then asked this question: "Is there any way in which you are guilty of trying to fit Christ into an old life that was not designed and arranged for him in the first place? In regard to your personal relationship with Christ, are you trying to put a new patch on an old garment or pouring new wine into old wineskins?"

He explained, "Jesus Christ is not someone who can be placed on one of the few empty shelves in your life to be taken down and dusted off for special occasions. He refuses to become a mere appendage or surface decoration. ... As we approach this [communion] table, we must confess how our Christianity (or, more accurately, our 'Church-ianity') often forms a thin veneer over our fundamentally unchristian attitudes and practices and aims."

"There is a radical dimension to Christianity that requires a man to make a radical departure from his past if he wants to be a Christian. You must free yourself from the score of things which consume your time and energy and and money and which serve selfish purposes in order to make room for Christ to operate freely. There must be that conscious decision to put the new wine into a new wineskin."

"This, my friends. is the beginning of conversion -- the change from old to new that you must experience if you are to name Christ as your Savior in any meaningful way. God is constantly reaching out to you, touching your heart in a hundred ways, calling you through people, through events, through the Church, and most importantly, through his Son, asking you to make that surrender that signals the end of the old and the start of the new. ..."

"Jesus Christ invites you to join him at this [communion] table. As you bow you are bade to remember that this sacrament is not a religious ornament to decorate your old, shabby life. Rather, if it is taken seriously, it signals a deep change in you, a re-opening of your life to a complete takeover by your Lord. No man or woman or young person should rise after receiving these elements [of bread and wine] and go away the same person. Miracles can happen here. It is really an exciting adventure. Come, and maybe for the very first time, or maybe as a wonderful recurrence, Christ will enter and give you new life."

Yesterday, as I helped to serve communion, I didn't witness a mere ritual. I witnessed new life in the making. No wonder it was such a compelling experience.

From "New Wine in Old Wineskins"
Mark 2:21-22
Preached at Adams Shore Community Church (EUB)
Quincy, Mass.