We are not dead yet

Philippians 1:21-30; September 18, 2011

The Rev. Shelby Ochs Owen; Trinity Church, Staunton

Why Go to Church?

One Sunday morning, a mother went in to wake her son and tell him it was time to get ready for church, to which he replied, "I'm not going."
"Why not?" she asked.
I'll give you two good reasons," he said.

(1), they don't like me, and

(2), I don't like them."
His mother replied, "I'll give you two good reasons why you SHOULD go to church:
(1) You're 39 years old, and (2)  . . . . . .  you're the pastor!" 

So why do we come to church?  Of course, we come to church for a variety of reasons.  If we did a survey at the end of the service we might be surprised at some of the answers.  Some might say, “to worship God”, “to sing”, “to please my wife”, “to see my friends”, “to be an example to my children”; some might even say “it helps my business to know more people” (and who’s to say that God doesn’t work through even motives like these?).  God knows our hearts and minds and whatever the surface reason might be for coming to church, the deeper reason for our gathering together is to pull us up out of our small, individual worlds, to recognize and be a part of something greater than ourselves, to wake us from our slumber, to set our sights on the Holy One, the Divine, to breathe in the new life that the Spirit offers.  We are looking for something that we do not yet have, something that cannot be found on our own, something that can help us grow and breathe fresh air.  Theologian Paul Tillich said, “beyond anything else, the church is simply primarily a group of people who express a new reality by which they have been grasped.”  This new reality is Christ.  We come to church, we are church because Christ has indeed grasped us and calls us together.  And he calls us to fruitful labor through which we can express that new reality.

In our reading from Philippians the apostle Paul speaks an amazing truth of his faith.  He just as soon die as live, which sounds depressing until we see just how profound and exhilarating his faith is.  “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.  If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which I prefer.  I am hard pressed between the two; my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you.”   Paul’s deepest desire is to be with Christ; he is ready to die as he knows that just as we express in our own burial servicewhether we live or whether we die we are the Lord’s possession.  And yet, his chief mission on earth is to bring the good news of Christ’s love and redemption to as many people as possible; Paul says, “ to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you”. His mission is for others. He even acknowledges that his stint in prison, from which he writes this letter, has done wonders to bring the gospel to more people. His mission is clear.  So even though his desire is to depart, to die, that he would be with Christ, he is compelled by his mission here on earth: “If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me.”

Over the course of my ordained ministry I have encountered a few deeply faithful elderly women who have shared with me that they were tired and they were ready to go, ready to die, ready to meet God. Their “golden years” weren’t feeling so golden and they wondered why God wouldn’t take them.  I don’t think we have to be elderly to have wondered this same sentiment at times.  Perhaps as a depressed teenager we have wondered, “Is this really all there is to life? Well I don’t need it.” Or perhaps we have gone through some deep sorrow or string of disappointments that has us shouting, “Just take me now, Lord!” 

But here we are. In the flesh.  Not dead yet. Perhaps we are not yet finished with our “fruitful labor”and it is time to consider, like the apostle Paul, that perhaps we exist not only for ourselves but to proclaim through our lives the goodness of God, the reality of Christ.

Like many of you I attended several concerts at the Staunton Music Festival a few weeks ago.  At a concert that featured Beethoven, I read this in the bulletin, quoting Beethoven himself: “Oh, it seemed to me impossible to leave the world until I had brought forth all that I felt was within me…with joy I hasten towards death.  If it comes before I have had a chance to develop all my artistic capacities, it will still be coming too soon despite my harsh fate…Come when though wilt, I shall meet thee bravely.”  Beethoven had contemplated taking his own life as his deafness developed and yet he knew his “fruitful labor” was not yet over.  As one whose faith in God was experienced through art, this response of continuing to write music in spite of the difficulties was a true act of faith.

So what might be our “fruitful labor” by which we can express the new reality of Christ?  Here we are at the beginning of a new program year at Trinity.   If you look around you there are umpteen opportunities for folks- the music program, foreign mission trips, a prayer ministry, Bible studies, parlor groups, a book group, serving in our multiple outreach programs, all of which point to the reality of Christ.  One day this week we had a deeply troubled sojourner stop by Trinity.  I was carrying a box of Rolling Pin Bakery donuts, (and only feeling a little guilty about it since I was planning to share them), when I came across this bereft young man sitting on the bench by the labyrinth.  Obviously he had already been inside where someone on our staff had given him a Bible; after a conversation with him, I offered him a donut, invited him to stay for the healing service and for noon day lunch before he caught the 1:00 train back to his home.  Once we were in the healing service, the others who attended that service offered him a loving ear, asked what he needed, prayed for him and gave the young man a tour of the church. The reality of Christ was palpable in their respectful and loving attention.  I don’t know what became of the sojourner. I pray that he made it to his destination.  What I do know is that the church, here manifest in this group of caring individuals, offered him their “fruitful labor”and the sojourner offered his own remarkable faith to us.  Each person who encountered the young man gave him what they could give him.  Sometimes we miss the mark. Sometimes what we can give does not seem to be what a person needs but we try anyway and let God handle the results. 

Here we are. In the flesh. We are not dead yet. While we wait, can we offer one another the reality of Christ?