wfn.org | Sunday Annual Conference sermon

[Church of the Brethren News Services]

Date:      July 4, 1999
Contact:  Nevin Dulabaum
V:  847/742-5100   F:  847/742-6103
E-MAIL:   CoBNews@AOL.Com

213th Annual Conference 
Sunday morning sermon, July 4, 1999
(This text was submitted prior to the worship service)

SOARING SERVANTS By: Paul Mundey, pastor of Frederick (Md.) 
     Church of the Brethren

What a great week of reconnection with Brethren life and culture. 
Speaking of Brethren culture, I'm reminded of the kindergarten
teacher who gave her class a show-and-tell assignment.  "Class",
she announced.  "Tomorrow, I want you to bring in something that
represents your religion."  Well, tomorrow came, and the first
child marched forward.  "My name is Benjamin", he declared.  "I'm
Jewish.  And this—is the Star of David."  Before long, a second
child was front and center.  "My name is Rachel", she said.  "I'm
Catholic.  And this—is a crucifix".  Not to be outdone, a third
child appeared.  "My name is Alex", he announced.  "I'm Brethren. 
And this—is a casserole."

Now, we laugh, but much identity is rooted in the mundane.  Why,
the world 'goes to hell', yet we focus on our appetite, our desire,
and our need.  Now, there's nothing wrong with casseroles or
potluck suppers.  But church is more than food and common ritual. 
In fact, church is uncommon ritual, where we are lifted, toward new
vision and new routine.

As we enter our scripture text, new routine abounds.  Why, the
disciples, known as the 'seventy' (or 'seventy-two'), embark on no
ordinary mission.  Rather, they embark on remarkable mission. 
"Go", Jesus declares in Luke 10.  "[I send you] like lambs among
wolves.  Do not take…purse or bag or sandals" (Luke 10:3).  Just
go—declaring uncommon life, Kingdom life.

How might we declare uncommon life, Kingdom life?  How might we
rise out of the mundane toward new vision and new routine? 
Continuing with our text, we discover important clues for
leaders—of any stripe.

Initially, we learn we must rise out of pettiness.  Mundane life is
seldom transcended without distance from picky, Pharisaic ways.

Craig Barnes pastors National Presbyterian Church in Washington. 
Early in his tenure, he became ensnared in an issue of 'profound'
importance.  No, it wasn't food for the hungry.  No, it wasn't
peace in the Middle East.  No, it wasn't salvation for the lost. 
It was the placement of a coffeepot near the church sanctuary.  You
see, the Hospitality Committee wanted to provide hospitality, so
they placed a coffee urn in the narthex.  The outcome was
horrendous.  Why, the head usher of 25 years resigned in protest. 
And the church was forced into a mediation process lasting over 8
weeks.  All because of a coffeepot.  Asked to describe such
experience, Barnes noted, it felt "like being 'nibbled to death' by
a duck."

What contrast is found, however, in our scripture text.  Rather,
than 'nibbling' reality to death, the 'seventy' accept reality
adjusting to their locale.  Jesus provides the impetus.  Don't
'pick apart' current context, Jesus infers in Luke 10:7.  Don't
'pick apart' food and lodging.  Rather, accept food and lodging,
reflecting attitudes of grace.

Do you reflect attitudes of grace?  Friends, there's always room
for improvement, but our calling is not to 'pick apart' current
context.  Rather, our calling is to aspire toward new vision.  The
Kingdom of God is not defined by the placement of coffeepots.  But
it is defined by the placement of justice.  It is defined by the
placement of righteousness.  It is defined by the placement of
peace.  So, don't be distracted by incidentals, Jesus suggests. 
Rather, be captivated by essentials, proclaiming the reign of God.

Along with rising out of pettiness, mundane life is addressed next
as we rise out of jadedness.  Common routine is seldom punctured
until we muster new energy and new options.

Just ask folks at Somerset Church of the Brethren.  As the story
goes, their deacons and pastor were preparing elements for a
Christmas Eve communion service.  In doing so, however, the deacon
co-chair made a shocking discovery—instead of purchasing grape
juice for the event, she inadvertently purchased prune juice! 
Quizzing the pastor, she asked what to do.  "Keep pouring", he
declared, "keep pouring".  You see, given holiday hours, no store
was available to correct the problem.  Needless to say, the service
that night was creative as worshipers swallowed the unexpected
juice.  Commenting afterwards, the pastor remarked, "Now that was
one of the most—moving experiences I've ever had!

It's important to note movement in our scripture text.  Why, the
'seventy' are no jaded group.  Rather, they're an energized
group—venturing forth.  They venture with risk, moving as lambs
among wolves (Luke 10:3).  They venture with urgency, engaging in
no idle talk (Luke 10:4).  They venture with vitality, knowing
fresh vigor and zest.  In fact, Luke tells us after embarking on
their mission, they return with joy -- great joy (Luke 10:17).

Are you marked by risk, urgency and joy?  Barbara Brown Taylor
tells of a man deeply moved by one of her sermons.  As a result, he
planned to quit his job, sell his car, and change his life.  Taylor
was taken back.  "Good grief", she mused.  "It was only a sermon. 
Sleep on it.  Go—get some coffee!"  Reflecting later, she noted: 
isn't it sad how all this church stuff is too familiar.  Why, we
hear God's Word as if we're hearing income tax instructions. 
There's nothing to get excited about.

But friends, there is.  Remember the prophet's words in Isaiah
40:31?  "those who hope in the Lord [can] renew their strength. 
They [can] soar on wings like eagles; they [can] run and not grow
weary, they [can] walk and not faint."  Bottom line?  Even in our
lethargy, we can be renewed and uplifted.

Along with rising out of pettiness and jadedness, mundane life is
addressed next as we rise out of clannishness.  Common routine
continues until we 'check' tendencies to huddle exclusively with
'our own' kind.

I remember family reunions growing up.  Rather than mixing, kinfolk
would huddle, engaging familiar voices and faces.  We do the same. 
Rather, than engaging varied folk, we engage familiar folk,
bypassing people of different color, genealogy, or conviction.

But this is not God's intent.  Notice, Jesus sends the 'seventy'
into foreign territory—not familiar territory (Luke10:1; 3).  So,
too, for us.  Our calling is not to HUDDLE—like an Old Testament
tribe.  But to EXPAND—like a New Testament Church.  So, ENLARGE
outreach—engaging new and different folk.

Well, there's a final item.  Along with rising out of pettiness,
jadedness, and clannishness, mundane life is addressed lastly as we
rise out of aimlessness.  Common routine continues until we claim
new identity, new direction -- and new mission.

A few years back, Diane Williams was pursuing a favorite hobby --
skydiving.  Suddenly, however, she slammed into a colleague and was
knocked unconscious.  Spinning out of control, she fell rapidly at
150 miles an hour.  High above, skydiver Greg Robertson witnessed
her plight.  Breaking formation, he went into a 'no-list' dive.  In
other words, he became a vertical dart—plummeting toward Diane at
breakneck speed.  At 3500 feet, Greg reached her.  Ten seconds
before impact, Greg reached her.  And together, they floated safely
to earth.

Our mission is likewise.  We need to break formation.  We need to
break routine, and rescue others.  The story of the 'seventy' is
many things.  A story of energy.  A story of urgency.  A story of
efficiency.  But foremost, it's a story of service as the disciples
risk life for others.  Luke 10:8&9 supplies the detail.  "When you
enter a town and are welcomed", Jesus instructs, "…Heal the sick…
[telling them] the kingdom… is near…"  In other words, heal the
broken, heal the downtrodden, heal the lost.  Giving life—in God's
name.

Parkes Cadman was one of America's great preachers.  A few years
back, he was called to the home of a dying woman.  In the course of
being there, he noticed her hands—weathered, callused, scarred. 
You see, the woman had not lived just any life.  She had lived a
life for others.  Well, an hour or so into the conversation, the
woman teared up.  "Pastor", she shared.  "I'm afraid.  When I stand
before God, what shall I do?"  At first, the pastor was
hesitant—after all it was a profound question.  But soon words
flowed.  "When you stand before God" he answered, "Just show
God—your hands!"

Not bad advice.  When you stand before God, just show God your
hands.  In other words, just show God evidence of mission and
sacrificial love.

On December 17, 1903, the Wright Brothers did the impossible—they
defined gravity and flew.  Overjoyed, they contacted a sister in
hometown Dayton, Ohio.  Their telegram was brief but historic: 
"First sustained flight today -- 59 seconds.  Hope to be home by
Christmas.  Signed:  Orville and Wilbur".  Anxious to spread such
news, momentous news, the sister took the telegram to a local
newspaper editor.  The next morning, its contents were right on
front page.  Well, sort of.  Plastered across the top was the
following headline.  "Local Bicycle Merchants to be Home for [the]
Holidays".

Isn't it amazing?  People defy gravity -- and we focus on the
mundane.  Wonderful things happen—yet we stay captive to familiar,
ordinary routine.  But friends, it needn't be that way.  We can
rise above common life and claim kingdom life.  We can go beyond
mediocrity and know the greatness of God.

Remember the prophet's words?  "those who hope in the Lord [can]
renew their strength.  "They [can] soar on wings like eagles; they
[can] run and not grow weary, they [can] walk and not faint."
(Isaiah 40:31)

In 1491, Christians in Seville, Spain, set out to build a new
edifice for their congregation.  Before construction, however, they
wrote a resolution—outlining intent.  It was a simple statement but
striking statement.  "Let us build… a church so great," they
declared, "that those who come after us—will think us mad, for
having dreamed it."

I like that.  You see—we're not called to puny vision.  We're
called to lofty vision.  We're not called to small pursuit.  We're
called to great pursuit—for Christ and His Cause.

And so—let -- the church -- arise!  Let it rise -- out of
pettiness.  Let it rise -- out of jadedness.  Let it rise -- out of
clannishness.  Let it rise -- out of aimlessness.  Let it rise. 
Let it rise.  Let it rise.  For we're not just any people -- but
Jesus people.  Not just any servants -- but soaring servants. 
Destined -- to 'walk the heights' -- with God.