Annual Report 2007

I don't really think too many people will want to read this, but I'm rather pleased with what I wrote for my annual report to the congregation for their annual program meeting this coming Sunday. So, here it is:

ANNUAL REPORT TO THE CONGREGATION
The Rev. Matthew Emery, Associate Pastor
April 29, 2007

Grace and peace be with you all!

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” In the opening chapters of the book of Acts in the New Testament, we read about those very first moments in the life of the Christian church—-that period when the earliest Christians had to figure out exactly who they were and what their mission was as followers of the risen Christ empowered by the Holy Spirit. As the very first converts joined the community of the disciples, the author of Acts shares this description of just what the church was: a gathering of people whose identity consisted of their devotion to “the apostles teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers.”

I believe that we, this gathering of people known as Second Congregational United Church of Christ, are ourselves on a journey of re-discovering our true identity as an authentic Christian community of disciples and on a mission of renewing our commitment to live into such an identity. As this journey and mission goes forward, I think we will find that this identity and life together looks an awful lot like that earliest description in the second chapter of Acts. In other words, we are finding ourselves called once again by God to be a community “devoted to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”

Our work of re-devoting ourselves to this identity takes many forms. One of these is through our worship life: our reading of “the apostles’ teaching” in scripture, the preaching in our midst of the still-speaking Word of God, our prayers for the world and all in need, and our gathering around the table of grace for the “breaking of bread”. I am thankful for the numerous opportunities I have already had to preach among you, and hope that the ministry Pastor Mike and I both carry out in this area continues to faithfully call all of us deeper into the Word that God speaks to us today and the life demanded of that Word. I am also very thankful for the ministry of Paul Laprade, Bob Bates, and all of our church’s musicians in supporting our worship together, and particularly for their commitment to connecting the music with the scriptures of the day and with the overall ‘work’ of the whole congregation in worshipping God. A number of members of our community have offered their gifts and time to visually enhance our worship space for each season of the church year. This church has together explored a few new and renewed ways of enriching our liturgy (the pattern of the worship service); I offered much input, planning time, and logistical execution in the renewal of some of the ‘special’ services on the church calendar: Christmas Eve, Ash Wednesday, Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Easter Sunday. Our continued work to live more fully into the rich practices of Christian worship helps us journey toward the identity to which God is calling us.

Of course, the “apostles’ teaching” and the “breaking of bread” around which we gather in worship also calls us from inside the church walls to live out that teaching and that gracious meal in the world. Many ministries of mission, justice-seeking, and community outreach continued here at Second Congregational United Church of Christ. I believe our partnership with the Boys and Girls Club has and will continue to transform lives, both among the Boys and Girls Club youth and among the people of our own congregation. Even though mission and outreach is not part of her official job description, I continue to be amazed at the behind-the-scenes “social work” our own Becky Erbe does when a crisis arises, for both church and Boys and Girls Club families. Our very capable Board of Missions has taken the lead on many other areas of our mission ministries. One area of this work in which I have been more directly involved, though, is the process of re-visioning the purpose and work of the cooperative downtown ministry currently known as ‘Neighborhood Ministries’. As of this annual report, it remains to be seen what new form this ministry might take. As concerns all of our mission, justice, and outreach work, though, I am thankful for the growing awareness among us that the mission of the church out in the world is essential to the vitality and life of the church within the church walls.

Our devotion to “the apostles’ teaching and fellowship” also shows itself in our ministries of Christian education and formation. It has been good to see a growing interest in education/formation opportunities for adults as we began including adults in our Wednesday night programming thanks to the work of Fred Krauss. I am sure you will read much about this and other Christian education/formation ministries in the reports from Becky Erbe and the Board of C.E. As for myself, though, I have been directly involved with these ministries by leading our high school youth ministries and by assisting with the confirmation program. Our high school youth ministries have been in a sort of ‘re-building’ phase for this year, as the recent years’ turnover in associate pastors has taken its toll on both the program and on the youth themselves. I am encouraged by the relationships I have been able to build with our current 9th-graders, as well as with this year’s 8th-graders in our confirmation class—these two classes together will form our core group of high school youth for the next few years. Our annual junior-senior high Snow Camp was again a huge success. This year also saw the beginnings of a semi-regular newsletter to all of the youth connected with our church, a newsletter currently written by myself but which I hope will begin to include contributions from the youth themselves in the future. As we face the changing landscape of our society and our youth, we will need to continue to expand our vision of youth ministry beyond the confines of simply youth group. For example, some of our older high school youth have been active this year in other ministries within our congregation, including worship, music ensembles (Sanctuary Choir and Martin Ringers), and fellowship and athletic activities. In the coming years, we will need to challenge ourselves into a more comprehensive vision of the ministry possibilities with and among the youth of our congregation and our neighborhood.

Our increasing efforts to welcome new members into our church community forms part of our sharing in “the apostles’ ... fellowship” and our sharing of “the apostles’ teaching” with them. Our own morale and sense of positive excitement as a congregation-—the evidence of vitality within—-serves as a key component in our efforts to welcome newcomers. It has been wonderful to hear from many about the sense of new energy and positive mood shift within our congregation in the last year or so. No doubt that as we live into our true vocation as a Christian community, this will continue. Newcomers and guests among us will see and sense that there is some good thing here that they want to be part of. In fact, this is already happening. Since our last annual meeting, we have welcomed 21 new members into our congregation, and we have seen a higher percentage of them remaining ‘active’ since their joining than in some recent years. It was a joy for me to teach our January-February inquirers classes, and I look forward to another series in June for which we already have 8 to 12 potential participants. We will also welcome up to 10 new members on May 6th as our current confirmands affirm their baptismal vows and join our fellowship. Other efforts within my work around ‘new member welcome and evangelism’ have included active participation with our Board of Membership and Church Growth and Vitality Task Force, work on our forthcoming church website reconstruction, the creation of the guest stations and guest information packets located in our two narthexes, and participating in our March evangelism event with David Schoen. As always, though, all of these efforts are only secondary; our primary task as a congregation is to continue to live into our true identity as that community dedicated to those teachings, fellowship, breaking of bread, and prayers that mark us as a community of the Gospel. Only when others can experience the substance, gift, and good news of this kind of life together will they find themselves seeking to join us.

Finally, my work since coming here in September has included much in the way of ‘fellowship’ and ‘the prayers’ as I have accompanied you all in various fellowship activities and attempted to connect with those in need in pastoral care situations. Pastor Mike and I have begun using a more structured schedule for our own visitation of shut-ins, and we look forward to seeing some renewed effort in ‘lay visitation’ in the coming year. As always, the cycle of life on earth comes full circle for some people each year; since coming here in September, I have conducted four funerals myself and co-officiated four others with Pastor Mike.

I want to express some special thanks to some of the folks with whom I have worked most directly over the past year: Pastor Mike, Becky Erbe, Paul Laprade, Bob Bates, church secretary Mary Jensen, bookkeeper Nancy Yoeckel, Deacons chair Linda Tolodxi, Membership chair Dick Nielsen, Moderator Karen Olson, all the adults who helped with Snow Camp, and so many others. And most of all, thanks to the wonderful search committee that brought me here to be among you all—-were it not for their efforts, I would not have the gift of working and living among the wonderful people and staff of Second Congregational United Church of Christ.


Looking Forward

In addition to the continuing of the ministries I’ve discussed already, I am very excited about some of the things we are looking forward to for the coming year.

As I mentioned above, I am encouraged about the possibilities for greater vitality in our youth ministries this coming year, with the rather cohesive group of youth that are currently 8th- and 9th-graders forming the core body of the youth group and other ministries with and among the youth. I hope that our mission trip this summer to Washington, D.C., will provide a formative experience for the participants that will be a springboard into the fall. Also, on the date this annual report is being presented, I will be doing some continuing education time at the Princeton Forums on Youth Ministry, and I hope that this experience will also impact our program.

In addition to continuing with our high school youth ministries, I will be taking the lead in our 8th-grade confirmation program beginning in the fall. Mike, Becky, and I have selected a new curriculum for this program that I hope will greatly enrich the confirmands’ experience. Also, with me taking the lead for confirmation, Pastor Mike will be more available to teach as part of an upcoming expansion of the adult education/formation opportunities offered during our Wednesday night programming.

We are looking forward to some greater intentionality around various forms of small groups within our congregation in the next year or two. We already have some types of small groups here, such as athletic teams, circles, the book club, fellowship groups, and so forth. As we move forward, though, we hope to both diversify the types of smaller groups available for our members to plug-in to and help make all of our small groups into supportive communities where folks can engage in conversation and exploration that can deepen their faith journey and provide support and care in times of need.

In our efforts to welcome new people in our midst, I hope that over the coming years we can begin to think about what it means not only to welcome people from other churches, but what it takes to invite people into Christian faith in the first place. A majority of people in my own age bracket have never been part of a church at any point in their life. As Christians, we believe that we have good news to share, a reason that someone would want to part of a church community (never mind whether it is our church community specifically). Much of our society, though, doesn’t know this-—and doesn’t know what it means to be Christian in the first place. If we are really going to be serious about inviting people into our congregation, we are going to need to challenge ourselves to stop providing merely education about our church and to begin providing formation into our faith. There are many possible answers of how we can begin to live into that challenge, and I hope that together we can explore some of them over these next few years.


As a congregation, we are definitely moving in the direction of that early Christian community we read about in Acts: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” Our congregation’s new mission statement expresses that direction quite well:

Second Congregational United Church of Christ is a welcoming, historic, and progressive Christian community in the heart of Rockford.

As a people gathered in response to God’s call, our mission is to proclaim the good news of God made known in Jesus Christ and to courageously live toward Christ’s inclusive reign of justice, mercy and peace.

In fulfillment of this mission, we covenant to…
-- join together faithfully in worship of our Triune God, through preaching, prayer, sacrament, and music;
-- grow continually in our understanding of our faith through ministries of Christian formation;
-- deepen our discipleship through service, justice-seeking, and reconciliation;
-- act as stewards of the abundant gifts we receive: physical, spiritual, financial, and relational;
-- intensify our commitment to the downtown Rockford community; and
-- celebrate and strengthen each other’s faith through friendship, compassion, and care in times of sorrow and rejoicing.

I am excited to continue watching this congregation live into these words—-and for me to live out my calling to help enable you in that work.

Yours in the journey,

The Reverend Matthew C. Emery
Associate Pastor

Peeps for Passover

Peeps for Passover

For your enjoyment as we celebrate the 'Christian passover', Easter: the 10 plagues portrayed by peeps.
(Warning: graphic content. May be unsuitable for those who love peeps...or Kermit.)

Faith needs doubt

"Past = Present = Future = Here": A sermon for Maundy Thursday

• Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14: Israel celebrated its deliverance from slavery in Egypt by keeping the festival of Passover. This festival included the slaughter, preparation, and eating of the Passover lamb, whose blood was used to protect God's people from the threat of death. The early church described the Lord's supper using imagery from the Passover, especially in portraying Jesus as the lamb who delivers God's people from sin and death.
  
• Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19: "I will lift the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord." (vs. 13)
  
• 1 Corinthians 11:23-26: In all of Paul's letters, the only story from the life of Jesus that he recounts in detail is this report of the last supper. His words to the Christians in Corinth are reflected today in the liturgies of churches throughout the world.
  
• John 13:1-17, 31b-35: The story of the last supper in John's gospel presents a remarkable event not mentioned elsewhere. Jesus performs the duty of a slave, washing the feet of his disciples and urging them to do the same for each other.
  

By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Preached at Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, Illinois, on April 5, 2007

You might say that tonight is one of those times when everything comes together for Christian faith. It’s one of those places where we can best see the past meeting the present and both meeting the future—one of those experiences that most brings together the experience of our life today with the story of life in the scriptures and points toward a path of life for tomorrow.

Tonight we visit the past as we join with the Israelite people in remembering the mighty acts of God. Just as God led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, so too has God broken all the chains that hold us captive to sin and injustice and all that keeps us from being the people God created us to be. And that past becomes the present tonight as we heard once again the promise and the reality of God’s forgiveness and saw our Ash Wednesday confessions consumed before our eyes. And like the Israelites and the Jewish people to this day who every year re-enact the Passover, the preparation for their walk of freedom across the Red Sea waters, we can take this present into the future by preparing ourselves ever and ever again—making ourselves ready to take part in the freedom, the redemption, God’s redemption, that is taking place in our midst. We could think of what we do here as merely ritual—or we can hear and feel and see the ritual moving and pulling and calling us into trust and faith and action. We can think of the story as past—or we can live as if the story, as if the salvation we anticipate, is a present reality and we can live as if it is the path of life for the future.

Tonight we visit the past as we join with the disciples in the upper room with Jesus. That past becomes present because, just as Jesus commanded his disciples to love one another, this command to love one another is ours today. And that past becomes present because, just as Jesus serves and loves his disciples in the shadow of his coming death, so we too come here to this place tonight and we too are invited to serve and love one another, even in the midst the pain and death and destruction in our lives and in our world. And this present becomes our future as we await that day when the whole creation will be transformed into the servant community and that day when the glory of God will be most fully known—and we are called to live into that future hope as though it is were not simply the future, but also the present, and not merely hope, but indeed the truth.

Tonight we visit the past as we hear the apostle Paul recalling the story of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. Like the Corinthian church, we too have received this tradition that has been handed on to us. As we join around the table, we remember the past event of Jesus sharing the Last Supper with his disciples. But indeed this past becomes the present tonight too as we gather around the table, because we gather not simply to remember the Last Supper. We gather to meet Jesus here and now, in this place, in these see-able, touch-able, taste-able things of bread and cup. Two thousand years ago, in the shadow of death, some disciples gathered around a table and Jesus was present among them, giving thanks and sharing a meal. A few days later, two disciples came to know Christ in their midst in the breaking of the bread. And this night, we trust that Christ is present yet again in this bread, in this cup, and in this community as we come to this table. And this present is about the future because, as Paul reminded the Corinthians, every time we share this feast, we proclaim both Jesus’ love for us to the end, even death, but also that ultimate promise that Christ will come again.

And yet, there is even more. Tonight, this table is also where all of these pasts and all of these presents and all of these futures come together. This table is where we join together to prepare ourselves for God’s redemption. And this table is where we proclaim God’s redemption already happening. This table is where we give thanks like the Psalmist for the mighty acts God has already done for us. And this table is where we lift the cup of salvation to see our sin washed right now. This table is where we remember Jesus, his love for us and his command to love one another. And this table is where we join together in that love of one another and where we receive the nourishment we need to go out as servants, washing the feet of the world. This table is where we remember the Last Supper, the meal Jesus shared with his disciples some 2,000 years ago. And this table is where we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, the ongoing feast of the Risen Jesus, receiving Christ himself into ourselves, right here, right now. And this table is where we await the banquet table of God, that everlasting abundant feast in the fullness of God’s reign—and we have the gift and privilege of celebrating that future feast right now.

Past meets present meets future. Remembrance meets life today meets the coming future. Ritual re-enactment meets faithful trust meets grace-filled promise. Friends, come to the feast: taste and see that the Lord is indeed good!

Sermon © 2007 by Matthew C. Emery. All rights reserved. Introductions to the scripture readings from Sundays and Seasons 2007, copyright © 2006 Augsburg Fortress.

Potluck Gormet

Potluck gourmet

By Lillian Daniel


Why it is that people eat food in church that they wouldn’t eat anywhere else? Read more...

"Extravagantly Dying" -- A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C

• Isaiah 43:16-21: The Lord gives water in the wilderness to the chosen people.
  
• John 12:1-8: Mary anoints Jesus for his burial.
  

By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Preached at Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, Illinois, on March 25th, 2007

“Extravagantly dying.” I think it’s safe to say that this is probably not the most common pairing of words in our thinking and speaking. We more often speak of “extravagantly living”—regardless of whether you think that living extravagantly is a good or bad. And there are other things that we think we should do extravagantly: extravagant loving, extravagant welcome, extravagant generosity. But extravagantly dying? Is there such a thing?

Certainly the power of death seems abundant in our world. This past week marked the fourth anniversary of the beginning of the Iraq War, and its stench of death seems to cling to almost every word in our newspapers and minute on our newscasts—the CIA leak case and the Scooter Libby trial, the Walter Reed Hospital scandal and even the entirely-too-early build-up to the 2008 presidential campaign. And yet, even with all that, we still find ways to shy ourselves away from really dealing with it head on, banning the display of coffins of US war casualties and numbing ourselves to battle scenes on TV. Even the Register-Star’s cover on Monday that featured a rather candid testimony from my friend Nick McCord, who spent a year as an Army specialist in Iraq, seems more the exception than the norm.

Of course, it seems somehow “easy” for me, the preacher man, to stand up here and talk about government actions happening thousands of miles away. What about the forces of death at work right here? What about sitting in a parking lot crying as you’ve never cried before, when that first true love just told you they’re HIV-positive? What about the moment the doctor comes back into the exam room with that less-than-cheery look on their face? What about watching the coffin being closed for the last time?

In the midst of all these, how can I speak of extravagantly dying—or, even more, how dare I?

[pause]

Of course, I do dare speak. I dare to speak because I too am just as caught in the world’s web of brokenness and death that entangles us all. But more so, I dare to speak as one who has already been given over to a different kind of death in the waters of my baptism. [pause] A different kind of death? An extravagant death. A death-destroying death. A perfume fragrance kind of death.

You see, there is a competition of sorts going on in and around this story from the gospel of John. Unfortunately we don’t get quite the full picture of it from the selection appointed by the lectionary for today. If we were to have been reading along in the story, though, in chapter 11 we hear the story of Jesus resurrecting Lazarus after being ‘in the tomb four days’. At the end of that story, someone goes and tells the religious authorities about what Jesus had done, and so the religious authorities decide that they are going to try to kill him. Then, in the few verses after this morning’s reading, we hear that the religious authorities decide that they need to kill Lazarus too.

But here, in the middle of this building plot, in the midst of the forces of ‘bad’ death, so to speak, we see something different: a moment of calm, an intimate, passionate, compassionate gathering. We hear the anticipation of ‘a new thing springing forth. Do you not perceive it?’ Do you not see the warm caress of body to body, flesh to flesh as Mary anoints Jesus? Do you not see the joyful feast, thankful friends and followers preparing food for Jesus?

And, as people who know the rest of the story, who live the rest of the story, who are the rest of the story, we can see how this story points forward to the ultimate new thing that God has done. Mary touches Jesus feet just as Jesus would touch the feet of his disciples in service to them a few days later. The feast is prepared for Jesus just as Jesus would give thanks and share the meal in an upper room a few days later. Even Judas is seen betraying himself and his own interests in these days before he betrays Jesus. And all of this is said to happen 6 days before the Passover, the day when the Passover Lamb was to be selected.

This something different—this scene of abundance and extravagance—all seems to point onward to another something different. In the midst of the cheep, tawdry forces of ‘bad’ death, we are pushed forward to the extravagant death on that Friday we call ‘good’. We see the One who is here embraced by friends ‘lifted up’ to embrace us all. We see love poured out that we might be the fresh scent of extravagant perfume for the world. We see that the attempt to kill by the forces of bad death ends up in the death that kills death itself, which pushes on to the life the raises all to life.

[pause]

So, again, these two words: “extravagantly dying”. It isn’t so much that they are a prescription for self-help, that in the midst of death we can figure out some way to do it that some how will make it less ugly, less painful, less gut-wrenching. Rather, in a place such as this, can we be extravagantly dying in the waters of our baptism, that we might extravagantly rise to new life in Christ? Can we be the ones extravagantly pouring ourselves out in service to Christ, only to find ourselves being served by him? Can we be the ones joining in a meal that proclaims the extravagantly dying One, only to find ourselves greeted at the table by the Risen one? Can we be a people of such extravagance in the midst of the death within us and all around us that our whole story is crafted to point to the extravagant dying that destroys all death, the new life that raises all creation to life?

Sermon © 2007 by The Rev. Matthew C. Emery. All rights reserved.

“The Road of Truth” - A Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent, Year C

“The Road of Truth" -- A Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent, Year C

• Deuteronomy 26:1-11 (The annual harvets festival called the Feast of Weeks provides the setting for this reading. This festival celebrates the first fruits of the produce of the land offered back to God in thanks. In this text, worshippers announce God's gracious acts on behalf of Israel.)


• Luke 4:1-13 (After being filled with the Holy Spirit at his baptism, Jesus is tempted by the the devil and defines what it means to be called "the Son of God.")

By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Preached at Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, IL
February 25, 2007

A battle is being waged. Sound the trumpet. Gather the forces. The stakes are high. Prepare for engagement. Envision the victory.

One face of the battle has been seen every day for years now, in our newspapers and on our televisions, our radios, and our computer screens. Is Iraq suffering from an insurgency or a civil war? Should we have gone into Iraq in the first place, and now that we’re there, should our military “stay the course” or do we “surge” or do we pull out? Are we, the United States, truly the world’s last and only ‘indispensable nation’—and, if so, what does that mean?

A battle is being waged.

One face of the battle goes on behind the pages of our newspapers, for it is the face of what doesn’t get covered by our mainstream media. The genocide in Darfur; the gatherings of poverty-fighters protesting in Washington; the closed-door meetings of multi-national conglomerates that operate outside the laws of any nation. Or how about the fact that the same number of people who were killed in the Tsunami a couple of years ago die of AIDS every 18 days—150,000 people every 18 days, all year ‘round, every year. You didn’t hear about the AIDS crisis on the TV news this morning, amidst the probably 10 or more minutes they dedicated to telling you about the weather? Neither did I.

A battle is being waged.

Another face of the battle, a gentler, milder looking one, could be seen at our Friday Forum that we had with Mayor Larry Morrisey this past Friday—and no, I’m not talking about the battle over sales taxes. The mayor believes that the story this community chooses to tell about itself and its potential is perhaps the most important factor in the continuing revitalization of the whole of Rockford. This past fall, I pointed out a similar observation to our congregation’s Church Growth and Vitality Task Force, namely that as long as we continued to allow ourselves to think of our downtown location as an obstacle to overcome, it will continue to be one—and that as soon as we began to see and believe that our downtown location is an asset, it would indeed become an asset.

A battle is indeed being waged.

Another face of the battle played out in the desert wilderness. The battle wasn’t about the ravages of the wilderness. The battle wasn’t about being hungry, even though the story tells us that Jesus was indeed hungry. I don’t think that the battle was even chiefly about Jesus overcoming the devil. Rather, the battle that we hear played out in today’s reading from Luke, and that we see playing out in all these other faces today, is the battle for the truth.

I see this battle for the truth most strongly in the second temptation by the devil recorded in today’s story:

Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, ‘To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is written,
“Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.” ’

It’s interesting, this temptation, because it isn’t even about a temptation of something Jesus wasn’t supposed to have. We often talk about temptation in that way—‘I was tempted to break my diet and eat that piece of cake,’ or ‘I really wanted to lie to her about what happened yesterday, but I resisted the temptation.’ But, power and dominion over all the kingdoms of the world, this isn’t something bad for Jesus; indeed, that is part of the faith we proclaim as Christians, that blessing and honor and power and glory and dominion ultimately belong to Christ.

But, you see, we have this battle raging, the battle over truth—and the truth that seems to be most at stake in the battle is the truth about our identity, the truth about who we really are. And so, likewise, in the episode of the battle we see Jesus in, the truth about who he is—what he is, how he operates, why he’s here—this truth of Jesus’ identity is on the line.

Whether you follow the order of the story from Luke as it appears in the Bible, we just heard the truth of Jesus’ identity proclaimed to us. In the order of stories in the Bible text itself, we just read the story of Jesus’ baptism, that day just before the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry where the Holy Spirit “descended on him … like a dove” and where the voice from heaven proclaimed “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” From there, this Spirit-filled beloved Son is next found—still with the Holy Spirit, or perhaps even because of it—in the wilderness. Even though the lectionary schedule has had us skipping around the story a little bit, we still just heard that same identity affirmed last Sunday, with the remembering of Jesus’ Transfiguration on the mountaintop, where again a voice came from a cloud, saying “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

And so, this identity, Jesus’ connection and commitment to the God of Israel, this is on the line in this battle. Like Jesus asks the disciples later, “who do you say I am?”, the challenges of the devil in this story seem to ask Jesus, “alright, Mr. Jesus Guy, who do you say yourself to be?”

Jesus clinging to his identity in God, the LORD God of Israel, this is what the people of Israel had been called to do from the ancient times. Today in the reading from Deuteronomy, we find a ‘liturgical formula’, a pattern for worship, that was set out in the covenant of the whole nation to help the people remember the truth about their identity. What’s taken as a given is that Israel is a nation of gift-givers who give in response to God's provisions of order and identity. And when they come with the gifts of their first-fruits—when, not if—when they come with the gifts, the covenant calls them to recall the whole of their story, the truth about who they are—their roots back to Jacob (that’s the wandering Aramean, by the way), their growth in Egypt, God’s deliverance from bondage and slavery in Egypt, God’s gifting them with a prosperous land.

Part of what we do as Christians in worship is much like this kind of ‘rehearsal’ of our identity and history. We come into the worship space, and we see the font of baptism—some churches even have it near the entrance, so you have to see it—we see the waters and remember that we are the people claimed by the promises of God, sealed in the waters. We read the scriptures together, not because they are some text book we learn lessons from, but because they tell a story that we find ourselves in and amidst and a part of. When we gather at the communion table, if you pay attention to the praying that goes on—the Great Prayer of Thanksgiving, we call it—you’ll hear that a central part of that praying is a recalling of the history of God’s work in the world, from the creation of the world, to the Exodus, to coming to us in Jesus, to the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. We recall all these things when we bring our offering of bread and wine, just like Deuteronomy called upon the Israelites to tell aloud a version of their story when they brought their harvest offerings.

This season we have entered now, the season of Lent, is similarly an opportunity for us to reaffirm the truth about our identity. Lent began this past Wednesday with the services of Ash Wednesday. As we are marked with ashes, and hear the words, ‘remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return’, we are forced to face a part of the truth our identity—the truth that we live as broken people in a broken world. This is not so easy a part of our identity to face—if you don’t want to hear yourself that you’re going to pass away back to dust, just try being the one placing those ashes and saying those words to one of your good friends or to a 6-year-old child.
Of course, Lent is not just about Ash Wednesday. Lent has historically been the season when we lead new Christians to baptism and when we remember our own baptisms—once again, that water-sealed identity just keeps popping up! Lent has also for many people involved prayer disciplines, and simplifying our living, and acts of giving to the poor. Again, we reconnect with our identity as a people having been given much by God, and thus giving much in return.

There’s another truth being battled over in the second temptation Jesus faces from the devil. Yes, there’s this issue of whether Jesus would take up an identity of power over the nations—even though that would mean giving up his identity as the Son of God. But I don’t think that’s not the only truth at stake here. Even the very premise of the devil’s temptation takes up the battle over truth. “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me.” Has it? Has the glory and authority of all kingdoms of the world been given over to the devil? Was that true in Jesus time … and more importantly, is it true in ours?

A battle is being waged. Sound the trumpet. Gather the forces. The stakes are high. Prepare for engagement. Envision the victory.

The battle, of course, is over the truth about who you are, who we are. The forces are raging, trying to deny the truth that you are the community of God’s people, loved and beloved. The battle is also over the truth about what the church is, and what we’re called to do. The forces are raging, trying to deny our calling to be Christ’s body in the world, trying to deny that our identity should make us at odds with some of the world’s values, trying to deny that our doors can be open to the whole people of God. And the battle is over the truth about our world, what it is, what is possible for it. The forces are raging, trying to deny that the world belongs to God, trying to deny that life is possible for all people, trying to deny that we can live in peace.

So, friends, the way ahead is not an easy one amidst this battle. We must choose which way we will go amidst the crossfire. Shall we choose the way of misinformation, of denying our identity? Or, gifted with the grace of God, empowered by the Holy Spirit, following Jesus’ path this Lenten season toward the cross, shall our way be the road of truth, the road of true life?

BLESSING AND HONOR, GLORY AND POWER BE UNTO GOD, NOW AND FOREVER. AMEN.

Sermon © 2007 by The Rev. Matthew C. Emery. All rights reserved.

Insanity!

"In the first ten hours of 2004 the U.S. spent more on weaponry than it would on food aid to the global poor all year."

-- From blog entry on food by Jason Byassee on Theolog: The Blog of The Christian Century.

A thought...

"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?" - Ernest Gaines

“Wholly Holy People” - A Sermon for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

“Wholly Holy People”

A Sermon for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C
Nehemiah 8:1-3,5-6,8-10; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a; Luke 4:14-21

By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Preached at Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, IL
January 21, 2007


Most of you know that not too long ago I spent a year working on the pastoral staff of a UCC church right outside Washington DC. I must say that I think Washington is a great place, and I really enjoyed my time there. Some people, though, find Washington—or I should say, more specifically, the people in Washington—rather irritating. “The first thing anyone ever asks you,” they say, “is ‘what do you do?’” That is, ‘what’s your job, your position?’ In the minds of these Washington detractors, nobody seems to care about anything other than if you can get them somewhere or do something for them because of your job or position. You are what you do—your job—apparently.

Now, I’m not sure I entirely agree with this criticism—I seem to think that “what do you do” is a fairly natural social icebreaker in many situations, a typical (although by no means required) bit of polite conversation. But that is not really my point here. Rather, I wonder, ‘How do you know who you are?’ Are you your job? Are you a name on a driver’s license? Are you simply a money-spending, stuff-consuming machine, as our whole culture of advertising and shopping and, often times, throwing-away would have us believe?

Over the past few weeks, I must confess that I have found myself spending a bit of time on the internet, looking at various people’s weblogs (or ‘blogs’) and profiles on “social networking” websites like MySpace. It is interesting to me what people do on these personal webpages and profiles to create and show a sense of their own identity. It begins with their answers to the stock getting-to-know-you sort of questions: where do you live, what are your hobbies and interests, where did you go to school—that sort of thing. But then, there’s often more. People personalize their pages with music and video clips and personal journal entries. There’s the endless personal survey responses, where folks reveal everything from what they ate for breakfast to … umm … probably some things they don’t expect their mother to be reading. And then, my favorite, are the little “quiz” responses—what the results were when they took the “what ice cream flavor are you?” quiz or the “which horror movie stereotype are you?” quiz.

So, anyway, all this is to say that there’s a lot of effort that seems to go into figuring out just what sort of image one wants to portray to the next random internet user that wanders by. But I’m not sure that knowing what flavor of ice cream some random survey has determined that you are really says much about your true identity. I mean, I’m guessing that no one started weeping when they heard that one.

We, of course, know of a people who wept when they heard who they were, when they were reminded of their true identity. All the people—men and women and all who could understand—stood in the square by the Water Gate and wept when Ezra and others read and explained the law to them. Now, in this passage from Nehemiah, the writer is not talking simply about ‘the law’ like we think of a legal code, but rather about what the Jewish tradition calls ‘Torah’, the books of the law, which correspond to the first five books of our Christian bibles: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. And so, these people, a people that had been taken away to exile, they wept as they were reminded of the stories of who they were and where they came from: of God creating all humanity in the image of the divine; of God choosing them, the children of Abraham, as a chosen people to be a light to all the nations; of God breaking the chains of bondage and bringing them into freedom from their slavery in Egypt. And surely there was probably some legal code in there too, but a legal code that showed them a way to live as a people set apart, chosen and loved and freed by God—a legal code that called upon them to forgive debts and release captives in the jubilee year, the year of God’s favor. And the people, all the people, they wept as they remembered who the chosen people of God that they were, as they remembered the ways they had failed to live into that identity, as they saw before them the opportunity for a new start at living as the people God called them to be.

Being reminded of who we are is a powerful thing. I remember being at a large gathering of Christians in Philadelphia a little over three years ago, the second “Witness Our Welcome” conference. The first evening, our somewhat rag-tag group of people, brought together because we knew the disdain of society and the rejection of the Church, we sat in the Episcopal Church of the Holy Trinity on the city’s famous Rittenhouse Square as another group that called themselves Christian protested our gathering, in fact our mere existence, outside the church doors. And as we gathered in that magnificent space that evening, the Book was opened, and the Word was proclaimed, this time from 1st Peter: “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of [God] … Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” Once you were no people, but now you are God’s people. What more wondrous Word could be spoken to such a group? What more wondrous Word could be spoken through their own books of the law to the Israelites returning from exile? Indeed, what more wondrous Word could be spoken here, in this place, to you, to me, to us?

And perhaps as wondrous as that Word itself is how that Word is proclaimed. The Book is opened in the midst of all the people, before all the members of the body, the men and the women and all those that might understand, those more honorable and those less honorable. All the people gathered in from exile to hear again exactly who they are and whose they are—the whole people made into the holy people and the holy people becoming whole people once again.

Moreover, this is the assembly that we form here, Sunday after Sunday. We gather together, all of us, returning home from the exile that we live day-in and day-out, coming to find who we are. Sure, there may be only some 200 or so of us in this particular room, but we gather around this Word proclaimed together with Christians across the street and around the world. And like at the synagogue in Nazareth, we find Christ among us, fulfilling that Word as it is spoken and heard. And that one we find among us, anointed by the Spirit to proclaim good news to the poor and release to the captives sends us out to prepare ourselves as a feast to share with those who have nothing prepared.

At the Water Gate in Jerusalem, a community gathered, the Book was opened, and a people heard themselves and the promises of God anew. At a church in Philadelphia, a community gathered, the Book was opened, and a people knew themselves and the promises of God anew. In a synagogue in Nazareth, a community gathered, the Book was opened, and a people saw the promises of God fulfilled in their midst. So maybe, like those folk in Washington, who we are is about what we do. Or maybe something even more than that. Maybe we do what we do as a sign of the One to whom we belong, the One in whom we know ourselves to be whole people and holy people—and in doing what we do, we find that One, that solid rock upon which we are built, standing in our midst fulfilling ever again the promises of God.

BLESSING AND HONOR, GLORY AND POWER BE UNTO GOD,
NOW AND FOREVER.
AMEN.

Sermon ©2007, Matthew C. Emery. All Rights Reserved.