Of Heritage Facades and Holy Feasts (sermon to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Fifty church building - Nov 24, 2019)

Reading:  I Corinthians 3:5-17

The church in Corinth was a dream church – a community with many gifted leaders, great teachers, and dedicated workers ... who together could do great things.

The church in Corinth also a difficult church – a community with many gifted leaders, great teachers, and dedicated workers ... who often ended up competing with one another for power and influence, forgetting that the church was not theirs, but God’s.

One of the conflicts that developed was between those who followed Paul and others who followed Apollos – each group arguing that their teacher was the better.  In the midst of this pastoral and institutional crisis Paul reframes the discussion by focusing attention on the church as God's garden and God's temple. 

150 years!  And still here!

A couple of years ago on Canada’s 150^th anniversary people put up signs in front of homes and small buildings:  “This building was standing in 1867.”  The point, of course, is that the building is not only still standing, but is still being used to some good purpose by people inside it.  Under that roof, inside those walls, in and out of those doors families are still living and loving, businesses are still operating, work is still being done and things are being worked out.

We missed it by 2 years.  But 150 is still pretty wonderful, and we’re not embarrassed or ashamed of our age.  We’re proud of being able to live and serve and be a good part of 21^st century life in a 19^th century building.  Pretty cool to be in a heritage building in an emerging community like the new Winona.

I understand that when it comes to our heritage designation, it’s really technically just the front face – or façade of the building that’s designated and protected.  Façade is not a bad thing, regardless of the connotation the word sometimes has.  Sometimes a heritage façade, like an attractive and striking face (think Lauren Bacall or Sean Connery), can be just what it takes to trigger and stir something deep inside you.

A few years ago a family new to the area was church-hunting.  And on the way home one day from another unsuccessful Sunday trial, instead of taking the Queen E to Fifty Road and then home, they took Hwy 8.   And as they neared Fifty Road from the east, the wife suddenly shouted out to her husband, “Stop!  Turn around!  Go back!  That’s it!”

He turned around, they came back, she went to the front door … and it was locked.   Worship was over and everyone was gone.  But they got the phone number, called, came back the next Sunday, came in, and because of what they found inside are still here.  He is now Chair of the Church Council, and the whole family feels at home here.  Because of the feast they discovered and became part of behind the façade.

The feast is a central image in any church.  In any religious community.  In any truly human community.

The feast they found was the joy of the singing, and the welcome and enjoyment of children into worship.  It was the warmth of the welcome that was offered, and the network of friendships that are part of life here.  It was the love for others in the world, and the care and concern of this place to reach out to the poor, the homeless, the hungry, the different and other.  It was the mission trips some of the members leave this place for to go to places like China, Peru, Haiti, the Dominican, Rwanda.  It’s the way many people come together here, each doing what they can as part of a larger project for the good of all, and they do together much more than any of us could do just by ourselves. It’s like being light, salt or yeast.

When we gather inside this place we are fed by and nourished in a certain spirit.  We become committed to this place – to being part of it, and helping preserve and protect it.  But we are also not limited to it, and to what it is just for us.  As our mission statement says, what we do here is to know and to share God’s love for all.

As big or small as we may be at different times in our history, as young or old, as weak or strong, as confident or anxious as we may feel, there is a spirit here greater than ourselves, a whole and a wholeness greater than just the sum of the parts.  A spirit that comes from beyond us that has something to do with the renewal and healing of all Earth and all life on it, and with the care and support of all people.  Something to do with special care and compassion for those who are on the underside, the outside, or on the outer excluded fringe of society and what’s counted as worth considering and caring about, and with helping the community around us to be and grow and act in truly human, caring, compassionate ways.

A spirit inside the building. 

Some people in this congregation swear there is a literal spirit – a ghost, if you will, that inhabits this place.  Some who have been in this building at night say they have felt something, seen or heard things that make them think twice about being here alone again at night.  Not because the spirit is scary or malevolent.  The presence seems gentle.  Content.  Welcoming.  Some feel they know who it is – a former elder of this church, and he’s not to be feared.  Maybe he’s watching over us, and happy to see and hear what’s being done here.  It’s just a little scary to let yourself be welcomed into the presence of something you don’t really understand or control.

There’s also a picture taken by one of our members a few years ago.  She was out walking one night, and as she passed the church saw an unexpected light shining through the stained glass windows.  She took out her phone, took these pictures and posted them on our church Facebook page. 

Whatever we make of it – the pictures and the stories, it reminds us there is a life and a spirit at work here greater and other than ourselves, that when we come here gathers us up and carries us along.

It’s the life and the spirit of Jesus, the Christ.

We know we are not the only church in Winona, not the only community shaped and energized by the life and spirit of Jesus, the Christ.  We know as well it’s not just the Christian tradition and message that helps shape the community around us in good and healing ways; more and more Winona is becoming as multi-faithed as the rest of the city and the country.

But we celebrate that we are part of that emerging community and part of what makes it good.  That the spirit we come to know in this place is the spirit of the God who lives and moves for good in all the world.  And that this building – as old and marvelous as it is, because of the spirit we come to know within it, because of the holy feast that awaits us behind the heritage façade, is as much a part of the landscape of the new Winona as it was of the old.

This feast is important to us.  It helps feed us and open us for what we are called to be.

We invite you to join us, but we do not compel it.  It may not be your tradition.  It may not be how you identify with God and with your own true self.

So feel to share in this time in your own way – sharing the bread and the cup with us, or passing them by so you can spend these next few minutes remembering and giving thanks in your heart and mind for the ways you connect with the life and the spirit of God all around us.

Because isn’t that what this building is here for, and what it’s always been – and still is, about?

Good Courage (sermon from Remembrance Sunday, Nov 11, 2019)

Readings:  

Haggai 1:15b - 2:9

The time is 520 before the Christian Era.  Twenty years earlier, after 60 years of imprisoned exile in Babylon, the people of Israel had been repatriated to their homeland.  When they came back they were excited by the promise of rebuilding their land, their farms, their kingdom, and the temple of their God at the heart of it all.  But the work has been harder than they thought, and twenty years later little progress has been made.  The people are discouraged, dis-spirited and depressed, and it shows in how self-centred and apathetic about the kingdom of God they have become. 

2 Thessalonian 4:1-4, 13-17

The Second Letter to the Thessalonians was written several decades after the death and resurrection of Jesus, when the first flame of faith in the power of God to save all the world through the risen Jesus is beginning to flicker in the ongoing winds of time.  The kingdom of God has not come as the believers thought it would.  The world and their life in it continues as before.  There have been rumours of the messiah appearing in different places, but as far as they can see Jesus has not returned as they expected.  They are confused and discouraged, and this letter is written to encourage them in the life of faith.

There are moments when the human heart is caught and lifted up to a wisdom beyond the normal.

Like in 1918 when people talked of “the war to end all wars.”  The phrase summed up how humbling, terrifying, and horrific the First Great War was, and helps explain why nations of the world – a good number of them at least, came together two years later in 1920 to establish the League of Nations as a way of preventing war like that from ever taking over the world again, and of giving all nations and governments a way to work together to build a good world for all.

Like in the 60’s when “Give Peace a Chance” moved from being a Montreal hotel bedroom sit-in sing-along to become a mainstream pop anthem, the slogan “Make Love, Not War” moved from hippie love-ins in San Francisco parks to popular culture, and “Ban the Bomb” became the text not just of placards carried in the street but also of international treaties signed by the world’s super-powers.

There are moments when the human heart is caught and lifted up to a wisdom beyond the normal. 

And then there’s the rest of the time. 

Like the 1930’s when the League of Nations was unable to prevent aggression by the Axis powers, and we slid into another Great War with even greater violence and more intentional atrocities than the first.  And into so many other increasingly destructive wars since even with the United Nations as a replacement for the League of Nations.

And like our own day when we look around, look back and look ahead, and wonder how after so much good will and progress in decades past, we have reverted to so much hatred and vitriol, so much division and tribal violence, so much fear and aggression all around the world as our daily diet of news and coffee time discussion.  With vested interests in control of the halls and courts of power.  With fear and self-interest overruling love and altruism.  With countries hardening boundaries, and building walls to hide behind instead of bridges to cross and meet together.  With governments letting go of their calling to protect and care for the poor and the weak, for the Earth and the well-being of what has been given.  With so many losing the wisdom and energy to look and live towards the benefit of all in a land beyond self-interest.

Like in the time of Haggai, a prophet of God to the people of Israel 520 years before the Christian Era.  After sixty years of imprisoned exile in Babylon the people had come home in hopeful procession, happy for the chance to rebuild their homes, their land and the temple of their God.  They felt called and energized to work together for something big, holy and good.

But then reality set in.  The grit and grime of the daily grind.  The dust and dirt to deal with on the way to their destiny.  The tiring-ness of the tasks and the temptation to settle for something a little bit less, a little more self-serving than what was really necessary.

So twenty years on, the towns and farms are still a shambles.  The economy is still weak and fragmented.  The kingdom is a puppet regime of top-down order and control.  And the temple?  The place of God in their midst?  Is still just a bare foundation, but far enough along that everyone can see how much less than their dreams and their memories it will be.

So in the midst of the people’s discouragement, depression and general retreat from the higher vision, what is a prophet to do?  How to invite the people back to the wisdom and vision that at first had carried them along and lifted them to a higher level?

First, the prophet acknowledges and echoes the people’s discouragement and depression.  Gives expression to what they see and how it makes them feel.  And this is important.  Is maybe something that today’s leaders do not always take time for.  In their rush to present themselves and their parties as the answer to what grieves us, they don’t the time and the risk to sit and dwell for a while with the people in what they are facing, and what they see in the world.

And then, instead of looking back at what was and lamenting how far they have fallen from it (the normal and the easy response), Haggai looks to the future – the promised future, though; the eschatological future, the future not just of human cause and consequence, but the future of God’s own action and good will.  And there is a big difference between the two.

The Lord of hosts, Haggai says, is going to “shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land” and “will shake all the nations, so the treasure of all nations shall come.”  For “the silver is mine, and the gold is mine, and the latter splendour of this house shall be greater than the former,” says the Lord of hosts.  In other words, Haggai reminds the people that the Earth and all that is in it and all that it will be in the end is not ours, but God’s.  And at the end as in the beginning God by God’s own ways of working will bring it to be.

Which leads to the third thing, the promise that all along the way from here to there God is with us.  That the roller coaster of history does not make God sick enough to bail out; but instead makes God only all the more ready to hold our hand and give us the courage we need to carry on in our high calling no matter what the present moment is like. 

Take courage, O you kings of the Earth; [the prophet says],

take courage, O high priests and pundits and so-called experts;

take courage, all you people of the land, says the Lord;

work, for I am with you, says the Lord of hosts,

come together and build what is meant to be,

the good thing you saw and let guide you to a higher purpose

when we first started this journey together.

The promise is that God is with us.  In the grit and grime of the daily grind.  In the dust and dirt we deal with along the way.  In the tiredness we feel and the temptation we face to settle for something less, and more self-serving than the well-being of all.  And it’s those who let themselves be guided by that vision, who let the flow of God’s work in the world go through them, who let the vision of God’s healing of all the world be at the heart of their life, and who let their hearts be shaped day by day by a wisdom beyond the normal, who are the people of true and good courage that the world is in need of.  

It’s not something we have to manufacture or make up.  Not something we have to force into being.  It’s something instead we need only decide to open our heart to, and let flow through us in any way we can, day by day and all along the way.

So before we sing our next hymn, can we join in affirming what we believe – repeating together the words of the New Creed of the United Church of Canada, and asking for the grace to be able to take these words to heart, and let them renew our courage today for living day by day in the ways of God?

We are not alone,

          we live in God’s world. 

We believe in God:

          who has created and is still creating,

          who has come in Jesus,

                   the Word made flesh,

                   to reconcile and make new,

who works in us and others by the Spirit. 

We trust in God. 

We are called to be the Church:

          to celebrate God’s presence,

          to live with respect in Creation,

          to love and serve others,

          to seek justice and resist evil,

          to proclaim Jesus, crucified and risen,

                   our judge and our hope. 

In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. 

We are not alone. 

Thanks be to God.

Hymn VU 684:  “Make Me a Channel of Your Peace”