thisisourstorythisisoursong

Sunday’s Sermon – Leftovers – John 6:1-14; 2 Kings 4:42-44

July 29, 2018 Leave a Comment

Mention “leftovers” and you are likely to get a wide range of opinions, some of them quite strong. Some may insist that no leftover is a good one, while others appreciate encore performances of their favorites. I would offer that some things even taste better when they are leftovers, as the flavors have truly had the chance to come together. Consider a good batch of chili or slow simmered sauce. Or, my favorite “leftover” to enjoy: banana pudding.

Both of our scripture readings today leave God’s people with a lot of leftovers. Elijah’s meal feeds everyone with food left. In the gospel we hear the familiar story of Jesus blessing and multiplying a simple meal, so much so that twelve baskets are overflowing. These stories build upon the idea of God providing for us in a dramatic, exponential way. This is not just manna in the wilderness, enough sustenance for one day at a time; these are miracles of abundance.

The presence of leftovers is a promise that God isn’t done with us yet. There will be food and nourishment for another day. In fact, knowing they are there, we might even look forward to it. Leftovers, in a theological sense, build our anticipation of a continued relationship with God. Such stories remind us of the overwhelming generosity of God. Stories like these feeding tales encourage us to remember that even as we marvel in God’s goodness and blessings, they are only a small glimpse of what God is capable of. God is always bigger than our experiences, even our imaginations. Our God is indeed limitless. It’s as if we get to the end of an amazing deal or offer, and then hear that tag line “but wait, there’s more!”

This summer, we have spent 9 weeks exploring some of the stories of our faith and the songs that proclaim them. It was hard to pick such a small selection, so, as we come to the end of the summer together, I wanted to take time to remind you that, like those baskets of bread after all had been fed, there are ample “leftover” hymns for us to enjoy. This morning, we will get to sample a bit of those, first with a taste of some of the stories that didn’t make it into our series:

Did you know that one of the benefits of the Reformation was the rediscovery of congregational singing? Martin Luther was a huge proponent of the use and power of sacred music. He is quoted as saying:

If any man despises music, as all fanatics do, for him I have no liking; for music is a gift and grace of God, not an invention of men. Thus it drives out the devil and makes people cheerful. Then one forgets all wrath, impurity, and other devices[i].

Luther also wrote many hymns in the early sixteenth century, including perhaps the most powerful hymn for the Reformation, based off Psalm 46, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. He said:

I wish to compose sacred hymns so that the Word of God may dwell among the people also by means of songs[ii].

Of course, no study of hymns would be complete without adequate mention of the late 17^th and early 18^th century poet Isaac Watts, who is frequently referred to as the father of English hymnody. He once wrote that:

The singing of God’s praise is the part of worship most related to heaven; but its performance among us is the worst on earth[iii].

For a period of two years, he wrote one hymn a week, seeking to give the church a better voice for its theology in song. Because of his departure from the classical settings of the Psalms, he was considered a radical churchman in his day. His more than 600 works include such scandalously new-fangled hymns as When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, I Sing the Mighty Power of God, O God, Our Help in Ages Past, Jesus Shall Reign, and Joy to the World.

Few songs are as well-known and celebratory as Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee. Set to Beethoven’s “Hymn to Joy”, from his ninth symphony (his last composed and generally considered the greatest). The words were penned by Henry van Dyke, a Presbyterian pastor from Pennsylvania who also served as our denomination’s moderator, a professor of literature at Princeton University, a Navy chaplain during World War I, and U.S. Ambassador to Holland and Luxembourg under President Wilson. He described the writing of the hymn, first published in 1911, saying:

These verses are simple expressions of common Christian feelings and desires in this present time, hymns of today that may be sung together by people who know the thought of the age, and are not afraid that the truth of science will destroy their religion or that any revolution on earth will overthrow the kingdom of heaven. Therefore these are hymns of trust and hope[iv].

Finally, many favorites stem from the tradition of gospel music, which saw its rise in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Robert M. Stevenson noted that:

Gospel hymnody has been a plough digging up hardened surfaces of pavemented minds. Its very obviousness has been its strength. It is the music of the people[vi].

A prime example of this musical trend, Blessed Assurance, was written by Fanny Crosby in response to simply hearing a new tune played for her by friend and eventual composer Phoebe Knapp, for Fanny Crosby was a blind poetess. She wrote three new hymns each week for a period while serving as a music publisher, and used over 200 pen names beside her own, writing pieces often suggested by visiting ministers wishing to have a new hymn on a particular subject or text. Over the course of her lifetime, Crosby wrote more than 8,000 gospel song texts, many of which have been an important part of evangelical worship for the past century. On her tombstone is a biblical quote referencing when Mary anointed Jesus with costly perfume, and reflects her very modest perspective on her contribution to sacred music: “She hath done what she could.”

Many of the stories behind our hymns are incredible. The ways in which music shares God’s story, our story, is not just limited to a short series, or even one hymnal. In fact, I think the sheer number of hymns and songs of faith are a sign of God’s incredible abundance and faithfulness. They remind us that there are not limits to God’s song. There are always more notes to be played. The “leftovers” from this summer and the many more within the pages of our hymnals and beyond remind us that God’s song continues. In fact, the songs of praise we offer and ways we express ourselves musically are ones that should go on and on, telling the story of God to new generations. Some old favorites will stand the test of time, alongside new melodies and lyrics that convey how God’s Word continues to be fresh and new to the next generation.

As people of faith, we are called to rise up and sing, with saints through all the years, with siblings in faith next to us in the pews, and for the future of God’s people who will continue to let voices ring forever in the glory of God. This morning, we invite you to do just that with a hymn sing to conclude this series together, allowing God’s word to be proclaimed once again in song! You can find hymnals in your pews, and we ask that you reference which hymnal and the hymn number so that everyone can follow along as we sing the first verse of your favorite – go ahead and call them out, as Denise leads us in song.

Let us sing!

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

July 29, 2018

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[i]       Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2012).
[ii]      Ibid.
[iii]     Ibid.
[iv]    Ibid.
[v]     Ibid.
[vi]    Robert. M. Stevenson in Patterns of Protestant Church Music, as quoted by Kenneth W. Osbeck in 101 Hymn Stories.

Sunday’s Sermon – Lift Every Voice – Exodus 4:10-17; 1 Corinthians 12:12-14, 26-31

July 22, 2018 Leave a Comment

“I. Can’t. Even.” Have you ever heard or uttered this phrase? Perhaps when you are totally baffled about the appeal or audacity of something, or when you are caught up so much in laughter at the ridiculousness of a situation you find yourself in, or when something happens that makes your blood boil to the point you cannot bring yourself to utter a restrained response. This expression, which often stands alone, is a proclamation of a limit or breaking point to a situation, a modern variation of “when enough is enough” to some extent. It’s reserved for those moments in which one’s emotional response is so powerful that you can’t express it in either words or actions. It is beyond comprehension and even beyond words, leaving the hearer to insert the follow-up implications.

“I can’t even” might have been Moses’ response to God if the Bible were to be written today. The story brings us to the end of the narrative begun in chapter 3 with the burning bush. Verse after verse, God’s glory is revealed and the plight of God’s people, the Israelites, is laid bare. As we know, God has big plans for Moses, that sweet baby floating in a basket down the Nile, raised by an Egyptian princess in the seat of privilege, removed from the experience of his native people. God is about to turn the world upside down, deliver God’s people from slavery and oppression and into freedom and the beauty of the promised land – all because of the leadership of the one who stands before God now – Moses. Surely it was a lot to take in, and in the verses we read this morning, it is clear that Moses has hit a breaking point with this news. The call God places on him is enormous. Note, he doesn’t argue with God about it needing to be done. He doesn’t offer that “well, maybe Pharoah isn’t that bad, I mean, I was raised in the palace after all.” He doesn’t suggest that the “timing just isn’t right.” Instead, he stammers an “I can’t even,” for he cannot imagine that he has what it takes to do what God is calling him to do. His primary objection? He lacks the voice, the actual eloquence and force, to deliver such a message. Of course, God doesn’t take kindly to God’s creation informing God what we can or cannot do. After all, God is our creator, who knows us better than we know ourselves, and who has given us each a voice to contribute to God’s kingdom.

The week before last, I had the privilege of joining some of our high school youth at Montreat to explore what it might mean for us to lift our voices and respond to the call God has placed on each of us. The presenters each morning and evening challenged us to embrace the passions God had placed on each of our lives, and to bring life to those passions with the help of the Holy Spirit. I have promised not to preach 5 days worth of sermons at once this morning, as the lessons and implications of our time together were many. Instead, this morning, let me focus on one that sheds light on what it means to live in the kingdom of God here and now – the importance of creating space in which all voices can be heard.

1 Corinthians presents a stunning image of the diversity of calls God places upon us with the image of the body, which I would even liken to the different voices we have been given to preach the gospel. While we are all a part of the body of Christ, each of us has different ways of embodying that call. We are woven together, bones and joints, sinews and muscles, tissues and ligaments, and serve Jesus Christ, the head of the body best when we work together, each doing our part. As those who seek to be disciples of Jesus Christ, our job, then, is to find out which part of the body we are called to be next, and to live into that call to the best of our ability.

Like Moses, though, I think we often resist or fight that call to be a voice or body part because we don’t think we have what it takes. We aren’t smart enough, powerful enough, brave enough, to take on the really big stuff in the world. That kind of large scale change should be left to someone else, we reason, with a better skill set. But actually, such a small way of thinking forgets that God has made us to be a part of something bigger. In the case of Moses, God sends a helper, his brother Aaron, who will be a mouthpiece. Working together, as the body does, will bring about the revolution God has in mind. And, as we know from reading ahead, indeed it does. Moses moves from “I can’t even” to “Let my people go,” by the power of God’s Spirit burning in that bush and the support of the community around him.

This leads us to consider that finding our voices, the ones God has placed inside each of us, might not just be a solo endeavor. What if we considered it more the work of the body, a communal activity of mutual support and care for each other? Sometimes, this means that we are active voices and parts, pushing the body in a new direction. Sometimes, this means we are supporting the work of others, and not getting in their way or resisting. Often, it means we have to communicate well and pay attention to what others are doing in order to synchronize our lives in ways that build up the body. Always, I think, it means finding a rhythm of life together in which every voice is truly lifted. It is only then, in the unity and harmony of our voices combined, that we can begin to hear the voice of God.

Listening to God’s voice, we find our own, and are able to move forward into the future God has intended for us, and all God’s children, together. This sense of progress and hope is seen in the hymn that gave way to the Montreat Youth Conference’s theme this year, Lift Every Voice.

In 1899, a young poet and school principal named James Weldon Johnson was asked to address a crowd in Jacksonville, Florida, for the upcoming anniversary of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday . . . Instead of preparing an ordinary speech, Johnson decided to write a poem. He began with a simple but powerful line, a call to action: “Lift ev’ry voice and sing[i].”

It was a tenuous time, a mere 20 years passed since the Reconstruction era, with racial tension and lynchings on the rise in the segretated South. The words of the poem captured the struggle and resilience of his ancestors, and the promise of the light of hope he saw in the future. His classically trained brother, John Rosamond Johnson, put his words to music, and it was performed for the first time by 500 school children on February 12, 1900. It was soon embraced as a hymn in churches and performed in countless graduation and school assemblies. By 1920, it was adopted by the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People as its official song, and became a hallmark of the Civil Rights Movement. Today it is still known as the “black national anthem,” giving voice to hopes for equality and a land in which every voice, no matter race or ethnicity or creed, might sing out. In April, Beyonce even included the first verse in her opening sequence at the music festival Coachella, demonstrating the song’s power even in our times. It is a song about the power of voice, and a prayer for a day when all those voices might come together. In that spirit, even as those seeking to find our own voices in the midst of the body of Christ, may we rise and sing together:

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
July 22, 2018

**Our Youth Group and Friends shared their voices in worship through this video made in conjunction with the Montreat Youth Conference this summer: https://www.facebook.com/heritagepres/videos/10156185273678429/

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[i] https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2018/04/16/lift-every-voice-and-sing-the-story-behind-the-black-national-anthem-that-beyonce-sang/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.1a05e4fc5a90

Sunday’s Sermon – Powerless – 2 Corinthians 12:1-10

July 8, 2018 Leave a Comment

Think of a time when your home lost power. In the summertime, these outages are hot, sticky, and frustrating. It disrupts every sense of normalcy we have about our lives, as we work on other arrangements, and mourn the loss of refrigerators and freezers full of food. As we have learned here about our new HVAC system, even a small blip in the power grid can prompt our new unit to shut off to protect the compressor – which is good for the longevity of the system, and less good when you have a hot sanctuary despite things looking like they are running properly on the thermostat. But more than just inconvenient, being without power is so hard because we realize how vulnerable we are to outside factors and sources. To play with the words a bit, we are “power-less,” both literally with the electricity outages, but also in other ways, unable to fully control the situation, forced into waiting it out and hoping for the best. And no one likes to be powerless or weak.

Except maybe the Apostle Paul in today’s New Testament reading. His premise, on the surface, is a little ridiculous – weaknesses, Paul says, are good. In fact, that’s about what he will boast. He even goes so far as to add in the thorn in his side, persecutions and hardships to the list. It doesn’t make much sense, does it? Why on earth would we want to tell others about those places in our lives where we are imperfect? It goes against the very grain of our culture, which tells us to conceal our weaknesses, not boast about them. Focus on our strengths, minimize our shortcomings. Don’t admit when you don’t know the answer, just wing it. “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Nowhere in any of these words of advice are putting our weaknesses on display. After all, that would make us incredibly vulnerable, open to criticism, and frankly, less likely to succeed. Consider taking Paul’s advice on your next job interview. Go in and lay out all of your weaknesses, boast about the skills you lack. Probably won’t get you very far.

So what is Paul getting at? By the time this epistle was written, Paul already had a relationship with the church in Corinth. The church had been through challenges and complications, akin to many of the early churches, struggling with what it meant to live as a community of faith, particularly in circumstances where cultures and habits collided. But rather than focusing on these issues, this letter takes a different turn. Here he spends a lot of time defending his own position as an apostle. There’s a reason for this. Earlier he almost sarcastically mentions some “superapostles” who had been traveling around, teaching and preaching a gospel that differed slightly from Paul’s understanding. From the context of the letter, it seems that these leaders were asserting themselves in ways that Paul was not – from accepting financial support from the Corinthians for their ministry to simply being more charismatic in their visits. Rather than try to go “toe to toe” with these other leaders, Paul chooses another route: to use the perception of him as “wimpy” or “weak” as a strength.

This seems counter-intuitive to most of us. After all, if your authority as a leader is being threatened, why not defend yourself, pad that resume a bit if you have to, so that the church in Corinth will follow you? But Paul’s choice isn’t an oversight in church politics. He is a master rhetorician, and once again pushes his readers into considering something more. To understand it, we have to look more closely at what this weakness about which Paul boasts actually is. Theologian Karl Barth describes it in this way:

what is his weakness? Simply what remains of his Christian existence after it is stripped of the religious experience of which he could boast for good reason and in truth, but that means insults, hardships, persecutions, calamities for Christ’s sake (v. 10). There he sees the power of Christ dwelling in him; there he knows himself to be strong; there is what he boasts about[1].

For Paul, boasting about weakness is an entry point into boasting about God. Rather than taking an “I can do it all myself” attitude, allowing himself to be weak means that he is open to receiving help from someone far more powerful and strong – Jesus Christ. In essence, it is Paul getting out of the way of himself, out of the way of pride, so that God’s strength can be seen more clearly (see verse 9) and the church can get away from power struggles and spend time focusing more on faith development. In this text, he presents humility almost as hyperbole as one way of getting there.

Each week in worship, we follow this pattern as we expose our own weaknesses as Christ’s disciples. It’s called the prayer of confession. In these moments, both silently and together, we admit that we don’t have it all together. Most importantly, we invite God into the midst of our sinful places and ask for forgiveness, healing, and grace. We trust that God’s grace does prevail, that we are forgiven, and in response break out into songs of praise.This is the beautiful image of song revealed in the book of Revelation, and captured in the 19^th century hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty,” written by pastor and missionary Reginald Heber for use on Trinity Sunday. In it, all of creation celebrates the eternal power of the God, with voices united in endless praise.

Rather than rely on our own power, which we know to be limited, we rely on God’s, which we know to be infinite. In order to fully understand what God’s love and grace is all about, we have to get out of our own ways. To be “powerless” and “weak,” if you will, like Paul. We must do so with care, for there are some tempting and common traps that we can fall into if we take this boasting in weakness business too far.

First, we can get hung up on our list of weaknesses. Overachievers among us will be tempted to create a long list of imperfections about which to boast. If we have to be weak, we might as well be the best at it, right? In the movie Notting Hill, this activity even becomes a dinner party game, with the person who has the saddest story winning the last brownie in the pan. And it happens in real life, too. You all probably know someone in your life who always has to “one up” any story you tell. Good or bad, this person always seems to have had a life experience that’s just a touch more extreme than your story. If you share, for example, a physical weakness, such as back pain, this individual immediately jumps in with a story about how she threw out her back once, and it was ten times worse than what you had experienced. This is certainly boasting in weakness, but it’s not what Paul is talking about.

For Paul, the boasting is only a means of entry, a way of reminding ourselves who is really in charge in the world – God. So don’t get caught up in naming or proclaiming your weaknesses either. It’s not about you, after all. Instead, get caught up in inviting God into those places in your life. Boasting in weakness means flinging the doors to our weak places open and making space for God to work within us. Because when we get out of our own way, checking pride at the door, we are better able to dwell with Christ in an honest relationship that truly makes us strong.

Second, once we have our laundry list of imperfections, we can fall into the trap of using them as a cop-out for not acting in the world. We can say “oh, I’m weak. I can’t possibly do that. It’s just not in my skill set.” Eventually with this pattern, we wind up not doing anything at all. God doesn’t promise to swoop in where we are weak and just fix things for us. I can’t simply say “I am a really slow runner and tire out quickly,” and then expect the Holy Spirit to do its thing and suddenly help me run a marathon. One of my favorite scenes from the movie Evan Almighty involves God, undercover as a fellow diner at a restaurant, speaking with Evan’s wife. She is lamenting how hard things are sometimes, and is looking for answers that don’t seem to be coming anytime soon. God, portrayed by Morgan Freeman, poses some questions back to her:

If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?[2]

Something similar could be said in the way God works through our weaknesses. When we admit them, does God simply come in and patch things up, or does God give us the opportunity to work on them, promising love and support through the Holy Spirit and through others, so that we can, with God’s help, be made strong? Our strength comes from God, who made heaven and earth, and each one of us in God’s own image. God has promised to continue to strengthen us in all we say and in all we do. God doesn’t promise that it will be easy, doesn’t assure us that we won’t be weak. Rather, God promises to be with us even in our weakness. And I believe God surrounds us with a great cloud of witnesses to help make that possible. Through Christ, we are assured that none of us have to endure hardship alone. Suffering is neither God’s design nor the end result.

Remember Paul’s complaining about the thorn in his side? His begging God to remove it? God’s reply is simple, “my grace is sufficient.” That grace comes from Jesus Christ, who conquers all. By grace, God sent Christ into the world, to walk with us, to strengthen us and show us how to live, to heal us, and most importantly, to save us. Elsewhere Paul writes to the Philippians “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). This is what makes us strong – not anything we do or don’t do, but God’s grace alone. It is a gift, ready and waiting for each one of us, if we can be so bold, so crazy, so ridiculously counter-cultural, to be like Paul and boast in our weaknesses, getting out of our own way so that Christ may dwell more fully within us and work for transformation and reconciliation in our lives and in the world. When we are grounded not in our own egos and agendas but in truly seeking to embody our Savior, it is then where we will find the power and strength to live into our calling as followers of Jesus.

This morning’s hymn doesn’t have a particularly unique story behind it as some of our others have this summer, but it does give voice to Paul’s words about our power coming from Christ and nothing else. “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name” is known as the “National Anthem of Christendom.” It:

first appeared in the November 1779 issue of the Gospel Magazine, edited by August Toplady, who wrote “Rock of Ages.” This text has been translated into almost every language where Christianity is known; and wherever it is sung, it communicates the spiritual needs of human hearts. One writer has said, “So long as there are Christians on earth, it will continue to be sung; and after that, in heaven” [i].

So may we join our voices again with the saints and angels in heaven, giving God all glory, honor, and praise, and proclaiming with our lips the source of all our strength is indeed in Jesus Christ our Lord. Let us sing:

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

July 8, 2018

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[1] Karl Barth, On Religion: The Revelation of God as the Sublimination of Religion, trans. Garrett Green (New York: T&T Clark, 2006), 92.

[2] http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0413099/quotes

[i]Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2012).

Sunday’s Sermon: Good Foundations – 1 Corinthians 3:10-15, Matthew 7:24-27

July 1, 2018 Leave a Comment

I love home renovation shows. I’m a particular sucker for the Property Brothers. It’s fascinating to watch them transform spaces with facelifts that make them look and feel like totally new homes. Once you’ve watched a few episodes, you feel like an expert yourself, and learn to expect a few things along the way, like when renovating older homes, there will always be some surprises, from its asbestos under the tiles to knob and tube wiring. Recently in the competition series Brother vs Brother, both brothers discovered their projects had some considerable structural issues. Walls had to be completely rebuilt, and they poured more new foundation and footings for posts than either of them expected. Thousands of dollars and several days later, they could continue where they left off. It was definitely a set-back, but clear that he had no other option. Like many of these obstacles, the solutions are pretty straightforward: the “bones” and structure of the house have to be attended to in order for any further work to be safe and successful.

Good foundations matter. That is the theme carried in both of our scripture readings for today. In Matthew’s gospel, they come as words from Jesus himself at the end of the sermon on the mount. These chapters have outlined what it means to be a disciple, beginning with a list of blessings, the Beatitudes. They speak to the nuts and bolts of living out our lives of faith in relation to others, particularly those who are challenging to us. And then Jesus wraps it up with this final reminder that takes us almost back to the beginning. In order to be strong and faithful, his followers must ground themselves in the words he has spoken, just as a person builds a house on a rock. Inaction on these instructions are like building on sand. Things are going to shift, and the wind and rain will quickly cause its demise. It’s a pretty straightforward message about taking this lengthy hillside sermon not just to heart, but into tangible action as well.

As people of faith, our foundations should be in the promises from God; those outlined by Christ himself and those proclaimed throughout the entirety of scripture. They are the bedrocks of our faith that allow us to build our lives in a way that is shaped by our relationship with the Divine. These foundations are what many of our most loved hymns proclaim, distilling our faith into the critical aspects worth repeating in song to commit them to our memories. Some of these central promises are featured in the hymn How Firm a Foundation. In 1787, a British Baptist pastor named John Rippon published a church hymnal with an extensive collection of hymns to serve as an appendix to Dr Watt’s Psalms and Hymns, including this classic which was originally titled “Exceedingly Great and Precious Promises[i].” The author is unknown, but attributed a “K,” which most scholars assume references his Minister of Music, Robert Keene, who helped put the collection together. The seven original stanzas were based on various biblical promises from Scripture, including Isaiah 41:10, “do not fear, for I am with you”; Isaiah 43:2, “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you”; 2 Corinthians 12:9, “my grace is sufficient for you”; and Hebrews 13:5, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” Sound familiar? The hymn speaks them almost verbatim. Together, it serves as one hymnologist puts it, like “a sermon in verse[ii].” It’s not surprising that this hymn has become a favorite of Christians, including several notable American leaders including Teddy Roosevelt. It is a song that helps us cling to the promises of our faith and remind ourselves of where we are rooted. Singing about these foundations of faith provide us comfort in facing the storms, and the strength on which to build our responses to them.

Paul, master of mixing metaphors, takes on the illustration of building in 1 Corinthians 3 in relation to what it means to be the church. These verses speak to the importance of the urgency of constructing a church with integrity. The first step, of course, is to pay attention to the foundation, which can only be Jesus Christ. Keep in mind that in the early church, references to building would not have been about physical edifices. Paul wasn’t presenting a capital campaign. The word used for church in Greek, ekklesia, refers not to any kind of structure, but rather a gathering of people.

Paul’s architectural imagery serves to draw the Corinthians’ attention to the nature of their community . . . He calls the community to be self-reflective and to evaluate what they and their leaders are building[iii].

A lot of times we think about the early church as some sort of perfect utopian community of believers who all shared everything without any disagreement. The totality of Paul’s letters, particularly 1 Corinthians, quickly corrects us of this misnomer, and reminds us that from the beginning the church has wrestled with what it means to be faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ. W. Michael Chittum reminds us this is still a challenge for us today:

Every Christian church, from the most liberal to the most conservative, makes the claim that it is based on the foundation of Jesus Christ, and many condemn and exclude those who disagree with their own particular theological interpretations. Do the differences in theological approaches by these differing churches constitute changing the foundation, or is it only a difference in the “stuff” constructed on the foundation? (see 1 Cor. 3:12-15)[iv]

I am struck by this every time I engage with Christians who aren’t from our particular denominational tradition, and even sometimes with whose who are as faithful to being Presbyterian as I am. This week, I had the joy of spending time with a new group of siblings in Christ at a gathering of the Cherokee County Ministerial Association. On Wednesday, 32 of us gathered for lunch, representing a variety of congregations and faith-based non-profits around the county. As introductions were made, part of me quickly felt like a fish out of water, with so many coming from more evangelical and non-denominational traditions. I admit my own bias was that I would not have much in common with those Christians, some of whom have traditions that don’t often embrace women as pastors, for example. But, as tends to happen with God, I was humbled and reminded to be open as the discussion began and the leader talked about the importance of a shared faith together and unity in Christ. He shared news of conversations happening around racial reconciliation in Cherokee County, and a shared worship event at the Woodstock Amphitheater on the evening of July 29^th with over 25 churches already participating. We heard from a free medical clinic in Canton and their ministry of care to those who are uninsured or underinsured. In all of this, our common cause was not just to “do good,” but based in the foundation of being followers of Jesus Christ. It was a reminder that even with all of our differences (and there are some theological and practical ones that matter to me!), our foundation is the same. Sometimes, in a group of other Christians who see things differently, that can be a hard thing to say with confidence. We get caught up in the nuance. Maybe we should try to be more caught up in Jesus instead.

But even that might not free us from controversy. In the 4^th century, theologians like Origen and Arius got into intense fighting with Athanasius and others regarding whether God the Father and God the Son were one and the same substance. Interestingly, this conversation was in part prompted by the Emperor Constantine’s attempts to unify and establish a single, approved Christian faith during his reign. In seminary, our church history professor shared with us a clever song designed to identify the complicated theological arguments, set to the tune of “Supercalifragilisticexpialoadocius” from Mary Poppins, written by a former student named Dan Idzikowski, retitled “superchristological and homoousiosis.” Put in non-tongue-twisting terms, it was this work begun at the council of Nicea and continuing in additional conversations in Chalcedon and Constantinople that led to our understand of God being one substance but three persons existing in balance and inextricable relationship with one another. What we believe about Jesus Christ as the foundation certainly matters. And while difficult, I think those conversations matter, particularly for what it means to be the church, because they mean we are, as Paul hopes, paying attention to the foundation on which everything is built.

That is also part of the story behind another hymn “The Church’s One Foundation.” In the mid-1900s, the Church of England was embroiled in theological controversy of its own after a book was written by one of the influential Anglican bishops, John William Colenso, which attacked the historical accuracy of the Pentateuch, the first 5 books of what we know as the Old Testament. Pastor Samuel J. Stone was deeply bothered by this book.

Stone was known as a man of spotless character; he was chivalrous toward the weak and needy, yet he was a violent fighter for the conservative faith that was being so sternly attacked in his day. He refused to compromise one iota before Higher Criticism and the evolutionary philosophies that were becoming increasingly popular. A personal faith in the inspired Scriptures was enough for him . . . He wanted to combat the attacks of modern scholarship and liberalism which he felt would soon divide and destroy the church[v].

In response, then, he wrote a collection of 12 hymns, “Lyra of the Faithful,” all based on the Apostles’ Creed. “The Church’s One Foundation” was based on the Ninth Article of the Creed, which begins with the phrase “the holy catholic church” – catholic meaning universal. Stone was insistent that:

The unity of the Church must rest solely with a recognition of the Lordship of Christ as its head and not on the views and interpretations of men[vi].

Although I don’t agree with many of the finer points of Stone’s arguments, and am grateful for the work of scholars in theology and biblical interpretation that I believe has been guided by the Holy Spirit to move us forward, I agree wholeheartedly with his assertion that the foundation of the church must always remain in Jesus Christ. What we build on that foundation, the work of our communities of faith, will be tested and refined over time by God, just as Paul indicates in 1 Corinthians. Our theology matters because it impacts what is built upon it. Paying attention to the foundations, even things that might seem on the surface as no-brainers, like believing in Jesus Christ, bears implications for what structures become put on top of it. When we talk, then, about what it means to be the church, and how we “do ministry” together – whether it is a stewardship campaign or a slip and slide on the church lawn, a closet of clothing for people in need, or selections of hymns in worship, we have to think about the theology that undergirds these decisions. Part of our responsibility as the church is to make sure that whatever we are doing, we are doing on the foundation of our understanding of Jesus Christ as Lord. The same is true for our lives beyond these walls; we must ground them in the foundations of Christ. If we lose sight of that, we have lost sight of the gospel. That’s why hymns, I think, are so important. They remind us to not lose what is most important, and they bring us back home again to the good news. They unite more than just our voices; they unite us in faith and in proclaiming that in the midst of all we might see differently, together we proclaim the same Lord, now and forever. Confident of that harmony which we share, let us stand and sing together:

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

July 1, 2018

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[i] Robert J. Morgan, Then Sings My Soul: 150 of the World’s Greatest Hymn Stories, (Nashville, TN: W Publishing Group, 2011).

[ii] Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1982).

[iii] Melanie Johnson-Debaufre, “1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23: Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[iv] W. Michael Chittum, “1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23: Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[v] Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1982).

[vi] Osbeck.

Sunday’s Sermon – Leftovers – John 6:1-14; 2 Kings 4:42-44

Sunday’s Sermon – Lift Every Voice – Exodus 4:10-17; 1 Corinthians 12:12-14, 26-31

Sunday’s Sermon – Powerless – 2 Corinthians 12:1-10

Sunday’s Sermon: Good Foundations – 1 Corinthians 3:10-15, Matthew 7:24-27

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