Preachers Don't Make You Grow!

1 Corinthians 3:4-9

First sermon preached for Dunmore and Throop United Methodist Churches, July 1, 2012.

This is a picture of a circuit rider. Circuit riders were early Methodist preachers, almost always young men, who took the Methodist movement into the American frontier in the early 19th century, forming classes and societies of people who would meet together and support and exhort each other in deepening their faith in Christ as they lived in community in hard conditions. One of the most famous circuit riders was Francis Asbury, the first bishop of the Americas after the Revolution. Tradition has it that he rode about 250000 miles through out an area that stretched from Georgia to Maine to Kentucky and Ohio.
Many modern United Methodist parishes got their starts as Circuit rider societies. These riders would visit perhaps once a quarter, performing weddings and baptisms, and serve communion. In the meantime, the societies or class groups would meet on their own, weekly, to check in, provide accountability for each other in their efforts to grow in Christ, study the Bible, and pray. They were the constant for each other, and the Elder who came through would periodically change—the elder was sometimes moved quarterly.
The United Methodist church is the result of evolution from that early system, as societies have become church parishes, and Elders have become less mobile and assigned to single charges, lots of times of two or three churches at a time. But that system is a visible remnant of the early system, and another remnant is the relatively frequent moving of United Methodist clergy.
As I come to Dunmore and Throop, I am aware hat my predecessor was here for two years, and before that, these two churches were both joined to other UM churches. The adults among you, especially some the more mature adults, can remember there having been lots of pastors in their life. The children I talked to, some as young as 4, already remember two.
The change is not as frequent, but it is still constant. What does not change is the congregation, the people who come to church in all seasons and through all pastors. When one talks about Dunmore UMC, or Throop UMC, or any other UMC, (or any other church, I hope), they refer to the congregation more than the minister. The ministry of the church is the ministry of the congregation, largely not of the pastor. The pastor can suggest, cajole, vision, lead, provide theology for or against an idea, but in the end, it will fail if the congregation does not catch the vision, catch fire with the idea.
Now, as your new pastor here in this charge, I am aware of my limitations. Not only am I the pastor and not the whole congregation, I am appointed here as a half time pastor. There will be even less that I will be able to do.
Suffice it also to say that I am not the savior of these churches either—I do not think either needs saving, but that being said, I am not the messiah. That gig was already taken 2000 years ago, and it didn’t end well for that guy, at least in the short term.
When Paul writes to the church in Corinth in this morning’s text, he is writing to a people who have started picking sides about where their loyalties lie. Some have called themselves Paul’s people, some have chosen to identify themselves with Apollos. There were other allegiances, as well, and the congregation was starting to fracture. We can see this sometimes in modern congregations, especially when a beloved pastor leaves. Some are all for the current pastor, some have nostalgia for those who have gone before. Every church has what I call a PBM-Pastor of Blessed Memory, the one that most of the people who are in leadership may remember the strongest.
Paul would disagree with that phenomenon. The pastors have a limited role, in his wording-some lay seeds, others water. But we should never forget that it is God only who makes seeds grow, God is the only one who gives the growth.
There are no pastors who can make you grow in God. There are pastors who can provide the environment and nourishment so that you may look for God more deeply. But they cannot pry the shell from you and fertilize the seed for you, and tie a rope to you and yank you loose. Only you can push through, and only with the strength God gives you.
Paul watered, Apollos watered, but God gives the growth. Phil planted, Joan planted, Tom planted, Jon planted, I will plant, and we have all watered as well. But none of us have given the growth. Only God does that. I hope my time here is a time of great growth for you, and that we all remember where we are to be focused!

Amen!

It Didn’t Have to Happen This Way

Philippians 2: 5-11

The opening gambit has been played. The symbols of the Messiah have both been achieved, and have been subverted from what the people are looking for--no White Military Charger, instead there is a donkey.

Now comes the closing. This is going to leave a mark. Here comes the last supper, where Judas begins his work. Here comes the garden, where Jesus prays and is arrested. Here comes the Sanhedrin, the midnight show trial, the battering, the dragging of the cross, the nails, the lifting, the blood and water, the earthquake, the death.

John 1: In the beginning was the Word, and the word was with God, and the word WAS God. Life came into being through him, and all the light of the world came through him. He was in the world, but the world did not know him.

He chose to come to us, so that we would know Him, and know God through him.

Philippians 2: who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.

He humbled himself; he was not humbled by anyone or anything else.

He was baptized by John, and John protested that Jesus should be baptizing him. "John, cousin, let it be this way for now", he said. He humbled himself.

Luke 22: Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!’

He chose to participate in the scheme, knowing that the love of God could only be shown with his sacrifice.

Luke 22: ‘Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.’ [[ Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.]] When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief.

He knew it was coming, and like any human being would was anticipating the pain and terror of what death meant. Our faith in God was his certainty, no faith required, because he was God and he was with God, at the beginning. Yet he still did not relish the pain.

Luke 23: Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last.

Jesus was a human being, and he was God. In the beginning he was with God, he was God. He died, and yet he lived. God died, but yet he didn't. Thus we declare the mystery of the faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.

When he died, he chose humanity. He chose us.

When he rose, he chose us.

When he comes again, he will be choosing us.

It didn’t have to happen this way.

He came, offering love, made himself into a human being, even. It could have gone anywhere from there.

He could have called down the angels to defend him.
He could have cried out to Elijah.
He could have spoken in the Sanhedrin, and defended himself.
He could have jumped the low wall in the garden, and run back to Mary and Martha’s place.
He could have ridden into Jerusalem as the conqueror they wanted him to be.
But that was not why he was here.
He came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly.

It became clear that the full evidence of love for this stiff necked people, the entire measure of proof, was what was required. But because of that, we have the knowledge that our God is a God of all, even that which is outside the boundaries of reason and science. Outside and inclusive of hell and death.

So now we know. Our God does more that create the universe. Our God knows us and loves us. This week reminds us of that. May it be a full and reflective week for us all. Amen.

Art Credit: http://www.jenneglover.com/akili-ron-anderson-africobra-artist/