Readings

FIRST LESSON

The first lesson is from The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life by Parker J. Palmer

Community cannot take root in a divided life. Long before community assumes external shape and form, it must be present as seed in the undivided self: only as we are in communion with ourselves can we find community with others. Community is an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace, the flowing of personal identity and integrity into the world of relationships.

But conventional applications of community assumes that intimacy is the best and most important thing that can happen between us. But we cannot demand intimacy of each other. When we try, we only drive each other away. Most of us will achieve intimacy with only a handful of people in a lifetime. If being in community equals being intimate, a vast range of otherness falls beyond our reach. When intimacy becomes the norm, we lose our capacity for connectedness with the stranger.

As a middle-class North American, I am unlikely to have intimate relations to the poor or relate to the experience of poverty, but I must feel my accountability for the poor and their plight. I am unlikely to have an intimate bond with people from the Amazon basin and the ravaged rain forests, but it is crucial that I understand my ecological interdependence with them and their habitat. As an amateur in science, I am unlikely to be on intimate terms with people who propound the constructs of quantum mechanics, but it is crucial that I understand how they are reshaping the world of thought in which I live.

When we reject those people or things with which we cannot become intimate, our lives are thus diminished.

SECOND LESSON

The first lesson is from the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 2, verses 1 through 12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born to lead the people of Israel? For we observed the star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

This Week's Sermon

Date: January 4, 2009

Title: Best Laid Plans

Message Delivered By: Rev. Joe Mc Murray

On the church’s calendar, January 6th is the Epiphany, though we are officially recognizing it today. Epiphany is the day we celebrate the arrival of the magi from the East, who brought gifts to the very young Christ Child.

By now, two weeks after Christmas, we’ve had an opportunity to really take stock of the gifts we’ve received this Christmas, because, for some of us, it is all about the gifts, right?

Studies have shown that if you haven’t used everything you got for Christmas at least once by now, you are unlikely to do so throughout the year. Such items, it is proved, would best be put to good use by dropping them off at your favorite church office where the staff would be happy to receive and distribute them.

Studies also show that if you haven’t worn or at least tried on the new shirts, pants, party dresses or frocks you’ve received, it signifies that the recipient is torn: uncertain if you really like the items, if they’re the right color, or if they really look good on you. Further, it is shown that people seeking an honest opinion about such items, should also visit their favorite church office, which is experienced in determining what items look best on you and which you might decide to donate to the church, especially the frocks and party dresses.

Historically, Christians used to exchange gifts on the Feast of the Epiphany, but it has since been pushed back to Christmas Day. We used to call it “little Christmas” and it seems an ideal time to go shopping again and then have something to do with all those after Christmas-sale items we bought.

Seriously, the word “Epiphany” is a transliteration of a Greek word, meaning “to shine upon.” We sing about the star that shone above the place where the Christ Child was living, guiding the magi to Him. Matthew is the only one of the Evangelists to recall the event.

The Epiphany occurred some time after Christmas, in spite of how we have collapsed the two events into one very crowded night in a Bethlehem barn.

In fact, Matthew tells us that the wise ones found Jesus living in a home, and that Herod ordered the killing of all males two years of age and younger, which means the birth could have happened quite a bit before Herod personally spoke with the visiting magi.

Epiphany comes at the end of the traditional Twelve Days of Christmas, another tradition among Christians in the British Isles of giving small gifts throughout this twelve-day period. I think I’ve said enough about gift-giving.

During the season of Epiphany, which takes us all the way to the Lenten season, the Gospels recount the early manifestations of Jesus as God-with-us, highlighting key moments when Jesus is shown to be "the Light of the world." Through Jesus, the pure, undefiled Light of God shines on the human race.

We also know the term Epiphany to mean something very personal: we often use it to describe a significant shift in our views due to a deeper understanding of something we’ve discovered about life and love; in a way, we experience our own Epiphany when that indescribable light shines upon a situation or an experience and quite possibly redefines the essence of who we are.

In this sense, an Epiphany is always a treasured and priceless gift to receive.

Will you please pray with me:
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Loving God, awaken within us the continued meaning of the Christmas season; renew in us the hope that all things are possible if we’re willing to do the work necessary to make room for them; and remind us that one of the real gifts we have received is the ability to create situations to enhance love and peace in our community and the world. And may my words and all of our thoughts be filled with honor and praise to you. In your many names we pray. Amen.
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King Herod had an inferiority complex. He was paranoid. He was devious. He was power-hungry. And he thought he could outwit God. Because, you see, Herod had a plan.
It’s been said before, and will be said again: “If you want to make God laugh, just tell God what your plans are.”

Most of us know this story so well. It is a story having much to do with dreams and warnings and prognostications and devious plans all for the purpose of preserving power. It is also a story of recognizing the importance of a child’s birth in Bethlehem—a child whose coming had been foretold—a child whose birth was so important, it was recognized by prophets from another land.

As with many stories of the Gospels, our tendency is to romanticize them, to imagine what it must have been like to be alive in such times, to ponder the challenges that were faced, and to dream about what it might have been like to see Jesus or walk beside him. And whatever we choose to believe is okay. It really is okay. As long as we can draw the distinction between then and now, as long as we can separate the past from the present, as long as we can make the stories relevant to our own lives and use them to advance the quality of life of our sisters and brothers, it doesn’t matter what else we believe.

What matters to us, or what should matter to us, is how we choose to live together in community.

Now, because of the circumstances we deal with in life, we may choose to stay apart from our sisters and brothers. We may decide we want to lead the lonely and isolated life. We may believe that all we receive from others is disappointment, and we are unwilling to risk rejection. We may refrain from communication with anyone except our “intimates” as Parker Palmer describes.

There are such people who become contemporary hermits, only coming out of their dwellings to earn a living, buy food, or attend church, and then retire back to the safety of home where they never have to risk having to face the challenges life deals the rest of us.

Oh, and they may also occasionally call “The Citizen’s Voice” to complain how unfairly they are treated, how threatened they are by the homeless, or what they believe Key West should or shouldn’t name the new terminal at the airport. But other than that, they’re not often seen or heard from.

But Palmer has a different idea of community—one that many in this church already subscribe to.

He sees communion in community; he envisions the community as a sacrament, and if you remember your Baltimore catechism, a sacrament is “an outward sign, instituted by Christ, to give grace”; Palmer actually sees the community as grace.

In MCC, we technically recognize two sacraments: baptism and communion. But that’s not all that the word “sacrament” means to us. We know what the sacraments are—the unspoken sacraments that every community calls its own.

Communion and community emanate from the same root meaning: the word “Communis” comes from a combination of the Latin prefix com- (which means "together") and the word munis- derived from an Etruscan word munis- (meaning "to have the charge of"). Put together communis or community means to be in charge of, or to be responsible together.

Parker says that community itself is a sacrament, and indeed, if we believe that our responsibility is to decide together, to plan the future together, to be accountable to one another—then we make a commitment to one another. We pledge our faith together. We put our resources together. We worship together. We are in allegiance with one another. This allegiance is made manifest through membership in our organization, yes; but it’s more than that. We pledge our love and support to one another just by coming here every Sunday and sitting next to each other, and singing and praying together, and offering peace to one another, and checking in with one another.

This is part of the covenant we form with each other. And this covenant is a sacrament in the truest sense of the word. It is a sacred and honorable thing.

Our covenant is an outward sign: we interact with one another and tend to one another’s wants and needs, while respecting each others’ dreams and desires. It is instituted by Christ, meaning that we come together espousing the same Christian principles that Jesus epitomized through his response to God’s calling in his ministry. And it gives grace. We grace one another through unconditional love, through trust, through respect, through hope, and through prayer. And grace is given because of our relationship with God, which is born out through our relationship in community.

And so, we come full circle.

How we plan our future depends on what kind of community we are and what we choose to do. Unlike Herod, our motives must be clear, transparent and with spiritual and communal growth in mind. False plans lead to empty promises and hurt souls. Hurt souls lead us to divided community.

The numbers of people I’ve met in the past month who say they “used” to be members of or used to attend MCC Key West is astounding. They have said they still love MCC Key West very much and do all they can to support it – from a distance. They no longer come because something happened; some event or some relationship came between them and their access to God through this faith community.

Somewhere along the line, that means that our community ceased to be a communion; it ceased to be a sacrament; it ceased to function as grace. Now you can say, “Yeah, but that’s only one person, and each story depends on the individual,” but there are far too many individuals who have this shared experience, even though it may have happened in different situations and with different people over time.

But the greater point is that we can choose to create a situation where healing and wholeness can happen once again. We can choose to set aside our differences with each other; whatever they were. Some of the players may have changed; life has taken some to distant places, and the reasons for discontent, at least for the most part, no longer exist.

So that leaves some of the responsibility on us—the ones that are here now—even if we didn’t know the folks who left. It means that those who left must be invited back by all of us. The door must be opened wide and a huge olive branch of peace and good will must be extended regardless of what drove people away. In some cases, this also requires forgiveness.

There are also those who were here at the time who may have felt abandoned by those who left; and those who left might say their leaving was about their own feeling of abandonment by their church community.

For those who wish to return, who wish to try once more to create something similar to what they once had, there must also be a willingness to forgive, to forget, to put the past behind and begin living together for the future.

You know, a church can be very smart about how it chooses to grow. It can label itself, market itself, brand itself – and do all those things the Alban Institute says are vital for church growth. And I think that’s fine to do and I welcome those sound approaches when they are grounded in purposeful and spiritual intentions.

But the bottom line is: if we are clear about the kind of community we want to be, and if we in fact do the work we set out to do, if we are truthful and open and welcoming and forgiving and life-giving; if we extend these invitations to those who are not only our intimates, but to all who cross the threshold of our church, we will grow because of the choices we make. We will grow because whenever anyone mentions our name, people will know right away what that means. And they will want to become part of it. Who wouldn’t? And they will know who we are because of our actions. In other words, it’s not just who we are; it’s what we do.

So when we make our plans for the future, let us do so with intention and with conviction; let us look to grow so that we might expand the solid Christian principles of hospitality; that we might welcome the stranger no matter who they are or what journey they have traveled; that we might forgive one another despite the wounds we bear and the shortcomings we possess; and that we might offer the same unconditional love we receive again and again from the Holy One—to our sisters and brothers who are in need of such love—the same love of Christ that represents the best that the Good News of the Gospel has to offer.

May it be so. Amen.