This is Stewardship Sunday.
There was a time many years ago when this day was spent wringing hands about
trying to pay the bills. In the words of that great Byrds song, “My Back Pages, Highlands was so much older then, we’re
younger than that now>” Highlands is so much more generous, and so much more
engaged in the works of Jesus that we can use this time to talk about the once
and future church.
This week you received in the
mail a letter from the Session and me with an estimate of giving card. This is
not a pledge but an estimate of what you think you can give in 2019.
I hope that this church has
earned your generosity. I would not want you to give a dime to a church that
does not meet your needs and give you a place to feel God’s love and to live
out God’s call in your life. For me, that is Highlands. I hope the same for
you.
Highlands has grown so much
in the last five years. There is an increase in attendance but more important,
we have experienced growth in our relationship with God. Highlands has come so
far in the last few years, far enough that it is prepared and spiritually
equipped to think seriously about the next generation.
What I am about to say may
surprise some, startle others. I hope it will open hearts and minds to a bold,
even radical thought process about the course we’d like to chart for this
little church. I need to say that this building at this place will not allow
Highlands to become all that it can be and all that God is calling this faith
community to be in the future.
Besides that, this church was
built on stolen land. Now, to be clear, it is impossible to locate a church on
ground anywhere in this entire country that was not stolen. No matter where you
build in this country, if you trace the title back far enough, you will find
the place in time where the land was stolen from its rightful owners. So, the
best we can do is decide that if we’re going to worship on stolen land, we
ought to make real certain that we are doing it in a way that answers God’s
call.
I have preached about this
before. It troubles my heart that we worship on stolen land. Let’s become the
first faith community in the US to give it back to the Native peoples from whom
it was stolen. Perhaps we could deed it back to the appropriate tribe and keep
a lease, long enough for us to find a different place to worship and serve.
Besides, this building is a stumbling block for who
Highlands can become. In Matthew 22, Jesus tells the story about the wedding
feast; all the best people were invited but they all begged off. The Sagebrush Gospel tells it like this, “The
kingdom of heaven may be compared to a church board that decided to build a new
church in the middle of a planned subdivision. It sent its members to call
those who bought homes in the surrounding neighborhood to the attend, but for
the most part, they would not come.”
And so, the king went out into the streets to
invite the homeless and hungry, the addicted, the elderly, single parents, the
marginalized and the rejected; a rainbow of color, white, black, brown, Native
Americans, immigrants documented and undocumented, straight or gay, bisexual
and Transgender and
those who were just plain lonely so that the pews were
filled with guests. They
came and a great banquet was enjoyed by all. Let’s do it!
Now, to be clear, I say these
things not to impose my vison on you but as a way of kick starting some
thinking about what we see as we look down on from wherever we spend the
afterlife and see what became of that which we started here. So, it is a sort
of “What if…”
First, Highlands should never
get caught up in the numbers game. Sure, we’d all like these pews to be filled
but what matters to God is our mission work and that we, like Jesus, preach the
Good News to the poor, justice for the oppressed, freedom for the prisoner.
Highlands should be known always as it is now in this community for its radical
vision and not the size of the congregation.
Robin Meyers wrote a book we
studied during the Highlands Book Club. In “The Underground Church,” Robin
laments what we have lost since the 1st century. Listen. “Gone, he
says, “is the sign of the fish on the door post to mark the subversive
gathering of Jesus people. Gone is the common meal that was intended to feed
the poor.
“Gone is the idea that to be
baptized is to become a pacifist. Gone is the idea that a Christian should hang
on to more than he or she needs in a world where so many have less than they
need. Gone is the radical hospitality that made the first Christians a smelly,
chaotic, unruly, ship of fools.”
In every generation,
Highlands should double down on its commitment to Jesus and the least of these
our brothers and sisters and being always what Meyers calls “a test tube for
God’s grace.”
Listen. When that day comes, I
would consider my time here a success if my successor in this pulpit is an
undocumented transgender person of color who grew up dirt poor and is wise
enough to be driven by a strong sense of the historical Jesus leading them to
hear God’s call for who to be and what to do in the world, sending a message
with the leadership choices you make that Highlands is committed to being the church and not a theological
museum.
Move into the future by
reclaiming our past. What if, like the early Christians, instead of celebrating
communion by ourselves and in the pews, we invited the hungry, homeless, and hurting
to a heavenly banquet. Eventually, our worship services could be devoted
entirely to sharing a meal, feeding those in need and sharing our time with
them.
What if we worshipped in a
place where the hungry, homeless, lonely could just drop in. Maybe in a
different part of town; maybe in this neighborhood if we look hard enough and
become inviting enough.
OR what if instead of having
a community garden, we had a farm. Instead of growing a couple hundred pounds
of fresh produce for those who are hungry, we could farm hundreds of bushels of
food in an environmentally responsible manner as we provide sanctuary for
documented and undocumented people alike, those looking for a different way to
be not just a different thing to believe…
…a place where undocumented
people could live in safety and security; maybe even a place where we could
provide sanctuary for lost and abandoned animals as well as lost and abandoned
people.
We
wouldn’t be the first to serve God this way. Google Koinonia Farms or go to koinoniafarm.org
and learn how they live out Jesus’s call for radical love and hospitality. “We are Christians,” says their mission
statement, “Christians called to live together in intentional community sharing
a life of prayer, work, study, service and fellowship. We seek to embody
peacemaking, sustainability, and radical sharing. While honoring people of all
backgrounds and faiths, we strive to demonstrate the way of Jesus as an
alternative to materialism, militarism and racism.”
Being radical in this world is to actually be
a servant of God and a follower of Jesus. Like
the once and former Egyptian slaves who spent 40 years wandering in the
wilderness, we have time to think about where we are headed. Like Moses, many
of us may not get there with the rest of the tribe but we can chart the course.
Take the words Cathy read from Deuteronomy, words intended for an
evolving Hebrew community.
Apply them to us: Hear, O Highlands: The Lord is
our God. Love the Lord your
God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might. Keep
the words you have chosen to describe your Vision, Mission, and Values in your
heart. Recite them to your children, talk about them when you are at home
and when you’re away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a
sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, write them on
the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”
On this Stewardship
Sunday, as we pray about how our generosity can help bring God’s kingdom to our
community, let us recommit ourselves. Never rest. Never settle. Strive always to
be like the first Christians; “a smelly,
chaotic, unruly, ship of fools.” AMEN
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