A Sermon by Gillian McLeod
First Congregational United Church of Christ">

 

 

A Sermon by Gillian McLeod
First Congregational United Church of Christ, Bellingham, Washington

There’s Hospitality Here!
Genesis 18:1-5; Romans 5:1-8
Pentecost 4 – June 16, 2002

Last year, soon after joining this congregational family, I suggested to Donel – in the spirit of a "New and excited" member – that one day I’d love to do a "Minute for Mission" about this church. I wanted to be able to share the perspective of someone from the outside, someone looking in, before I lost the feelings of Newness and excitement.

Today, I have MORE than one minute to share some of these reflections with you. And I am thankful for this opportunity.

I’d like to begin by telling you a few things about my history as a preacher. As mentioned in the bulletin, I grew up in the United Church of Canada – most of the time active as a musician, a Sunday school teacher, a youth group leader, and eventually as a member of worships teams. I did feel called to some sort of ministry and after finishing my undergraduate degree began studies in Theology with the goal of eventually obtaining a Masters in Divinity.

Part of any theology student’s process is the constant questioning by oneself and by others – of the validity of "call" or the commitment to pastoral ministry. It became apparent to me as I continued my studies, that I did not want to continue along the formal track of ordained ministry and instead I completed an academic degree in Theological Studies. I also became a librarian, a profession I currently enjoy here at Whatcom Community College.

And I stand before you today, feeling fortunate that I have found a church family such as this, which allows the laity, those of us who normally sit in the pews, to share our gifts with each other.

And I stand in amazement that the scripture passages for today present me with the opportunity to look at what it is about this church, this congregation that makes us able to grow and thrive in a secular world.

"Sarah was a woman who was all of 91" – Some of you may remember the children’s choir singing this song last fall and their great amusement in particular with this verse. They loved the fact that a woman of such great age could have the surprise, the hilarious joy, of becoming pregnant.

We heard today in the Old Testament reading the first part of this story which so often is not told. In those 15 verses – It is only during the last few that we hear of Sarah’s reaction to the promise of a baby. The greater part of the passage is taken up with the details of how the visitor’s to Abraham and Sarah’s home are treated. It is itemized, in order, how the visitors were received with favor, offered water and a chance to clean up, given bread made with choice flour, a special food dish, cheese and milk. Then the host socialized with them while they refreshed themselves. Abraham and Sarah were hospitable. They opened their home, they offered their best and they somehow knew that these visitors brought more with them than dust and weariness from their journey.

After ensuring that Abraham’s wife was within hearing distance, one of the guests says that in gratitude for the wonderful hospitality, Sarah will receive her heart’s desire, a child. Her disbelieving laughter rings true for many of us who have been offered the thing that we want the most – but when the visitors repeat that there is nothing too amazing for God - her laughter turns from disbelief to Joy - even as she denies doubting what is freely given.

When I was a child my family and I moved. One of the more stressful parts of the move for my parents was the yearly "church-shopping" we did as we tried out the many United Churches within our new community. For those of you who may not be familiar with it, the United Church of Canada is a Union of the Methodist, Congregational and some Presbyterian churches that happened in 1925. Many small towns now have three separate United Churches using those historic buildings so there’s always a few to choose from.

When I moved out on my own, I still participated in the almost yearly September ritual of finding a new Church home. As children arrived in Larry’s and my family, I would sometimes take one of them with me for the first church visits. I have memories of more than 1 church "service" where I wanted to flee after the Call To Worship or the First hymn – there are so many things that can make me feel as if I don’t belong somewhere – I’m sure this is true for many of you as well. After one such service, feeling as if I was the strangest Christian on earth for wanting a particular "style" of language, or worship or inclusivity, I fled home with my 4 year old beside me in the car. As we came closer to home, he noticed a young woman walking purposefully down the sidewalk swinging a guitar case in her hand and singing. Anthony turned to me and said excitedly "Follow her, Mom, she’ll be going to a great church". And he was right – I wanted to go to a place that made me feel like she looked. Good Music, perhaps even contemporary tunes, people who cared, biblical teaching, liberal thoughts and ideas and acceptance, a diverse community.

I eventually found a church family in that town. And then after 7 years we moved here to Bellingham. We were excited to be returning to what we remembered as the Liberal West Coast. I expected that every church in town would be one where I would feel at home, and be free to explore the wide and wonderful variety of experiences and opinions that make up our world. I was a little surprised when I arrived to sense a different place.

But, still I knew that our family would find what we needed – I just had to have a plan! So I employed a trick, a test, an idea that I came up with to help sort out the churches that I may not want to visit. Now, I’ve told this story to a few of you, and I hope you’ll forgive the re-telling. You see, over the years I had learned about myself that one of the most important parts of worship for me was the use of inclusive language. I knew that I could not be comfortable at a place that did not have an understanding of the power of words.

So, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, I got on the phone and I began to make contact with the most treasured and valued asset in ANY church congregation, the Secretaries. I phoned around, and when the phone was answered I explained that I was new and shopping and just wondering if this congregation was one that used Inclusive Language. If I met an answering machine I left the same message and my number for a return call.

The responses were amazing. There were those who did not know what I meant, and in fairness I then asked to speak with a member of the pastoral team. Sometimes the explanations were short, and perhaps not sweet, about why generic language was not used, sometimes they were longer, and I had some wonderful conversations with Pastors in this town. There were a few who quickly informed me that I would not be comfortable there. And there were those who did not return my calls.

Then one day, I happened upon this church – the number, the listing in the yellow pages and the referral from friends at work. I called. I met Julie. "Why, Yes" she said, "It is important to us here that we use language which will help people feel included in our worship. And if you don’t like some of the words, you’re welcome to change them". I wonder if she remembers that call. It changed me. As I almost blubbered in joy on the other end of the phone she went on "Hey, if you’re church-hunting you may want to meet our ministers here – can you come down for a visit – or wait I think Cynthia’s here I’ll just transfer you." Before I had a chance to answer I was connected and was explaining my story to a listening ear.

I believe that was October of 2000. Our family went on to have one of the most difficult periods of our life as the six of us adjusted, each in their own way, to moving away from what they knew as home. Occasionally I would raise my head from holding on and just feel better knowing that there was a church out there, somewhere, where I might fit in. I did manage to attend two services, spaced far apart, during that fall and winter. And as Lent neared it’s completion I was desperate to find community.

Once again – I used the phone as my lifeline.

And Once again – the church secretary came through for me.

I phoned about the timing of the Good Friday service – I NEEEDED to attend, I was Desperate to Attend, somewhere, something. I asked about childcare and Julie transferred me to Sharry who was in the office that day. The welcome in her voice brought tears to mine. How did she know what state I was in? How did she feel the extent of my Need. She told me childcare would be available, she’d seen me in church before and was looking forward to meeting me again.

So I Came.

And discovered that she was the childcare, and mine the only child, and I felt odd taking Sharry away from experiencing her own Good Friday – but she somehow convinced me that this was the plan – this was the order – I was to go to church. And I found myself in a back pew hearing what I needed to hear.

There are many more stories like this about this church: the welcome from Donel and so many of you after our first visits here as a family, the interest in all of us, the concentration on our children. Our children. Ours, like all of yours, arrived with their own special packages of gifts and challenges….This is the first place where one of them has attended Church School on his own. This is the first place where a church staff member has taken me aside and said "We love them as much as you do – every part of them - we can handle them – now get lost and stop worrying!"

This is the place where I have learned to let go – to watch them as they explore and learn and decide about God and religion and life – on their very own. This is the place where my sometimes rowdy 12 year old stood up to tell his church family that he wanted to be confirmed and a part of them forever.

This is the place where I found family.

You are the keepers of the gift of hospitality. You are the Abraham and the Sarah for Bellingham strangers. Today we commissioned a small part of this community, the high school youth, to go out and be the visitors that bring Good News. The works of this community are great.

And we all know that it is by our works that we are judged, right?

The Old Testament is filled with the rules. Some church communities run by those rules, what must be done, given, paid, or said to earn G-d’s love and forgiveness. We see it every day around us. What is paid for is received. Even if there is that New Theology – you know the one about Christ dying so that we didn’t have to pay gold coins for forgiveness, our world view overwhelms.

Paul explains in the well-known Romans passage that was read this AM, that it is only through our faith that we are part of G-d’s community. There is nothing evil that we can do that will separate us from this incredible Love, and there is nothing good that we can DO that will ensure we are never alone. It is our faith, the faith of any g-d-centered community that allows growth, and vibrancy, and hope.

There is no amount of hospitality that will ensure G-d’s presence among us. Even Abraham knew this – Isaac was not saved because Abraham followed the rules, Sarah did not become pregnant because the cheese and bread she offered were of good quality – They BELIEVED that G-d was a part of their lives. The believed that they would receive what they had been promised.

Each of us here has unique gifts – we all know that – but we may forget the presence that is in even our smallest actions.

Some of us may admit to being uncomfortable with the E. Word – you know, evangelism. We would not identify with that style of people. But by being part of this community we are making ourselves available, we are answering a certain type of call. We are the workers, the people with the dirt under our fingernails, although these days it may be cement dust or asphalt. As explained in a recent article on Preaching, we are the "Organized, mechanized, technologically adept and business-savvy moms, dads, brothers, sisters, and hired hands" We are Ordinary folk doing extraordinary work. And we are changing the world.

Mary Jo Leddy – a Catholic Sister explains that "Commitment is not a matter of dogged determination or ferocious acts of good will. It is the way life happens when love takes over" I am here to tell you that Love has taken over this place.

Yes there are still challenges and differences to overcome. We had to learn another new way to say the Lord’s Prayer, Amen vs. Amen, the ever-changing words to the Doxology. But there is also the familiarity of hymns, the reverence for liturgy and the kids sitting on the floor.

Don’t get me wrong, there are a few things that I may not choose to participate in again. The next time we sing that song about "I have heard your unborn cry", I’ll be the one running out the back door looking for Kleenex. When I heard that the Mother/Daughter retreat might include facials and relaxation techniques I was wary – but I’m confident that by next year Sharry will have convinced me that I deserve such treatment.

There is an old joke about the preacher singing to the choir, telling what is already known to the community who already knows it. I wanted to reflect for you, what it is about this place, this congregation that affirms the love of G-d in this community. Yes, I’m preaching to the choir, the ones who make it so, but I hope that you will take it to your heart, know that we are all making a difference, that there is no action so small that it does not change the world. There is hospitality here……and when we’re good at it, we just may receive our hearts desire.

AMEN.