The Power of Belief

Mark 6: 1-6 I have a hero in the faith, whose name is John Bell. He is a Scottish musician and member of the Wild Goose Worship Group, the worship leadership and experimentation team attached to the Iona Community. Iona is a Scottish island that you take two ferries to get to, and is only three miles long. There is a restored ruined abbey on the island, restored in the 20th century by seminarians and craftsmen from Glasgow working together. One story I remember being told about John was about a Christmas when the BBC had come to Iona to televise Christmas Eve services from the abbey. John made this experiment. He divided the congregation into four parts; then he went to one, and taught a very simple musical phrase with what seemed like nonsense syllables. Then he went to the second and taught a different melody, but with the same syllables. He did the same with the third and the fourth. Then he made a short speech to the congregation about how God designed the human throat to give praise to God, and to not use it is a sin. Just because you may not sound like Placido Domingo or Beverly Sills (or Adele!) doesn’t mean you can’t sing, and if anyone has told you that, they’ve sinned against God and against you. So sing out! Then he put them together, building one part on the other, until they were ready to sing in their four groups at the same time. What they discovered was that they could now sing four part harmony, and what sounded like those nonsense syllables was revealed to be Latin. The BBC television audience heard a very natural sounding, competent choir that also just happened to be the congregation. Any single melody played on an instrument can be pretty. Any one voice can exhibit great power and emotion. But when there are many instruments playing together, the power and nuance and subtlety is increased. Think of the difference between one flute and an orchestra. One guitar versus a whole band. The same is true for choirs, versus one voice. The same is true in Christian discipleship. Today’s scripture tells us that Jesus was unable to work miracles in his hometown, because of the disbelief of the townspeople. These were people who had known Jesus since he was brought by Mary and Joseph to Nazareth. They had seen him running around with other boys at festivals, they’d perhaps seen him get into fights, perhaps some mothers had had secret dreams of him marrying their daughters before he went all crazy and religious. In other towns and in other situations, Jesus was able to be a channel for God’s power. In one story we told just a few weeks ago, a woman was even able to be healed without even Jesus’ control, just by touching his garment. But here, he can’t do anything “other than heal a few people.” It takes belief to do the work of God. There’s a strong lesson here, that not even Jesus can do the work of God alone. There needs to be belief that things can be done with the presence of God. Just as it was true of then, so it is true now. We can do all we want as individuals to work in soup kitchens, donate old clothes to the Salvation Army, donate food to the food pantry. But what can we do as Christians together at this church? What is it that we can do, through Christ together? My mission to you is to think and pray about that. I’m serious. What is it that we can do together in this community in God’s name? Amen.

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!