Sunday 29 October 2017

October 29 sermon: Becoming ...

For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
(1 Corinthians 13:9-13)

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 
(John 1:1-5)

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     Two hundred years. That’s a long time. Although I guess it’s all relative. I’ve been to places like England and China and seen buildings and castles and walls, etc. that are a lot older than that – but, from our perspective here in North America, two hundred years seems a long time to have been serving God. None of us have been around all that time, of course – although there may be days when it feels like it. I’ve only been here a little over two years. That’s 1% of that history – and that’s the first time (and probably the only time) that I’ll ever be counted as a member of the 1%!

     I’ve done a little bit of historical research over the last little while. In most ways that would normally be considered noteworthy, 1817 was not a particularly eventful year. Except, perhaps, in this part of the world – because, friends, while I consider myself to be largely a Calvinist, I received my doctorate from a Methodist seminary, and I have to say that when the Methodists show up you know great things are going to follow! Considering the last 200 years and looking around today, I think it’s safe to say that, indeed, great things have followed. The last two hundred years for this congregation and its predecessors have not always been easy years. In both church and society there have been many challenges to face and to overcome – and there remain challenges to face and to overcome. The society we try to reach out to today is not the same society that those first Methodists tried to reach out to in 1817, or even that our own United Church predecessors tried to reach out to in 1925 or fifty years ago or even twenty years ago. Society changes; culture changes – and, always, the church is faced with the tension of on the one hand having to change to remain relevant and on the other hand having eternal truths about an eternal and unchanging God that we need to proclaim. That’s not an easy task – and it’s no surprise that there are often bumps along the way. Those who two hundred years ago began the journey that would eventually lead to Pickering Village United Church and to our gathering here today had no idea, of course, what the future would hold. They couldn’t have had any idea of the various twists and turns and developments that would lead to October 29, 2017 – some of which we saw played out just a few minutes ago. But if they didn’t know what the future held, what they would have known was who held the future. As an old gospel hymn says, “Many things about tomorrow I don’t need to understand, but I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.”

    Our ancestors in the faith trusted that God would guide them to – well – wherever it was that God wanted them to be, and that God would transform them into whatever it was that God wanted them to become – all so that they could be of service to God and to God’s people. And they become our example for today; a people of faith who trusted God with the future. Sometimes we have a tendency to measure either our success or our faithfulness by what’s happening in the present; by the immediate impact of whatever it is that we’re doing. So our “success” is defined by how much money there is in the bank or how many folks there are in the pews or by how many mission projects we’re involved with. I don’t deny that those things are important, but are they really the measure of the success of the church? I think the church that’s successful is not necessarily the church that’s doing a lot of “stuff” or that has a lot of money or whose pews are full, but is rather the church that trusts God with the future. Otherwise we spend our time fearing the present, worrying that we might try something that doesn’t work, wondering if somehow and in some way we might be responsible for the failure of the gospel. And while the example of faithful saints from our past should inspire us, I do find myself wondering if sometimes it holds us back.

     We live, admittedly, in a difficult era for the church. No one would dispute that. And because we face difficulties, rather than faithfully serving and trusting God with the future, we sometimes have a tendency to fearfully serve and fall into nostalgia for the past. I hear it all the time. “I remember when ...” And usually what follows is not a celebration of the past, but a lament for the present. “Things aren’t as good as they used to be”; “If only we could be like that again.” Sometimes the past holds us captive, because we yearn to return to it – a better time; a simpler time – instead of looking ahead. But we will never return to the past, and so we should not allow the past to become a prison; the past should be an example and an an inspiration as we move confidently and faithfully into the future.

     We, as much as the Methodists of 1817, are in the process of becoming. We are becoming what God wants us to be; we are being transformed into whatever will serve God’s purposes best. Paul, I think, has a good perspective on the future in 1 Corinthians. That reading is taken from the famous “wedding” passage about love. It’s read at almost every wedding you’ll ever attend – and the ironic thing is that marriage was the last thing on Paul’s mind when he wrote it. In context, Paul was writing about spiritual gifts and how to use them. The gifts God gives us should be used always in love and for the best interest of the community and not for self-aggrandizement. And then he thought about what the future held; he reflected on what those Christians were becoming - “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully ...” Paul understood what “becoming” was all about. He understood that whatever we may be now, we are only a shadow of what we will be one day as God continues to create and re-create us; to mold us into what we are called to be; to lead us into our destiny.

     The past is a part of that. We build on the foundation of those who came before us in faith, of the apostles and prophets, and of Jesus himself. We build on the foundation of the church’s teaching and witness and mission. We build on the foundation of the Scriptures. And these things – if we hold to them – don’t lock us into the past, they propel us into the future as people who know that we have a God-given calling to fulfil that we are living into each and every day, even if the challenges sometimes seem overwhelming and perhaps at times even insurmountable. And so they are if we deal with our challenges by our own strength and with faith only in our own ability to navigate through them. But we do not depend on ourselves. We depend on the God who has been with this congregation and its people throughout the least two hundred years. And, depending on God, we know that we will one day arrive at where we are destined to be – then we will see face to face; then we will know fully. But for now, we trust, and we go about God’s work not to save ourselves in the present or to safeguard our future – those things we leave in God’s hands – but simply as a grateful response to the faithfulness God has shown to us over the last two centuries.

     Natalie Sleeth’s hymn, which we sang just a few minutes ago, reminds us that “from the past will come the future; what it holds a mystery, unrevealed until its season something God alone can see.” Friends, we do not know what the future holds. What we do know is that – with God’s help – we are becoming the future. And perhaps 200 years from now another group of people will gather somewhere in this area to celebrate their 400th anniversary – and we will be among their past as they continue the process of becoming. I think back to the words of our Gospel reading earlier:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

     We are now that light, bearing faithful witness to the Word, becoming whatever it is that God calls us to be. May we move forward – always in faith, always with love, always becoming, until we see face to face, and know fully; until the partial ends and the complete comes; until God’s Kingdom is established among us and among all God’s children. Amen.

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