Attending God's Piano Recital

The following is an edited text of a sermon delivered March 7, 2010 at the First Presbyterian Church, Salina, Kansas, as part of the church's celebration of 150 years in ministry.

Texts: Ruth 1:1-18; Mark 3:31-35

It goes without saying what a privilege it is to be here today, but I will say it anyway. It is always a wonderful thing to return here to the church that nurtured my faith and supported me in my growth from a four year old terror to a young adult. When I decided that I was called to the ministry, this congregation supported with generous financial assistance for which I remain grateful. I hope that that my ministry, first in New York and now in Nebraska, renders that gift a good investment.

I was last here in worship ten years ago this July. That was the occasion of my parents 50^th anniversary and we were on the way to Colorado to celebrate. I bring you my parents greetings on this day. As many of you know my parents health is not good. They are grateful for the prayers and support of this congregation of which my father speaks often very fondly and, I know, cherishes his role as pastor emeritus.

Ten years ago I spoke, with my father, about the role of the church in my formative years. I spoke of how the church was one of the few, if not the only place, in society where young people can mix so freely with adults who were not their parents who expressed care and interest in them. I feel that was an invaluable part of my development and still advocate for the role of the church in nurturing the young.

Ten years ago my daughter, Jamie, was two and spent the morning in the nursery. My son, Aaron, was not yet born. Today Jamie is 12 and Aaron is 8. As such, my views on the subject of “church family” have modified somewhat. So today is an interim report on that subject. Perhaps ten years from now you will have me back and I can reflect on the subject from the standpoint of the empty nest.

I receive and read this church’s newsletter and I recall that somewhat recently you engaged in a congregational study. If I recall correctly one of the identified needs of the congregation was to find ways to broaden and deepen the sense of community within the church. Welcome to the club. Our congregation in Nebraska has articulated a similar need. Our Session is currently at work trying to understand this new, post-post modern world with its resulting social networking, technology, and soccer games on Sunday.

In our church we have quite a few young families. But they don’t know each other very well. We get some on one Sunday and some on another Sunday and still another set on another Sunday. We had one young family join the church who told us that they were going to be good church members and come at least once a month. And they were true to their word. There is another family who, after attending and participating for some time, finally told us they wanted to join the church. We haven’t seen them since.

It is a fast, crazy world amongst the young. Kids are into so many things. When I was growing up here, as best as I can remember, there were school sports teams and little league baseball. Today there are school teams but there are also travelling independent teams in soccer, volleyball, softball, etc. This reality leads to the two most popular phrases in our church among the younger families: “we love the church” and “we won’t be here this weekend.”

An enduring metaphor for the church is that of family. Paul said we are the body of Christ but he was also fond of referring to the sisters and brothers in the faith. In fact, the word that is most often translated “family” in the New Testament is “adelphos”, which means brother or sibling, or fellow believer, or fellow countryman. The word is part of the city Philadelphia which means the city of brotherly love. Or maybe the city of family love? Is the church a place of family love?

As I said, ten years ago Jamie was two and Aaron wasn’t here. At that time I had no idea what was coming. Ten years ago if you asked me about family and the church, and you did, I reflected on my own childhood and my own experience in the church. Now the arrows in my quiver of metaphors has grown somewhat, thanks to the experiences with my own children. And I have an evolving idea of what it could mean to say the church is a “family”.

But first let’s take a moment to look at the images of family presented by our texts this morning. First we have the story of Ruth. Ruth is from Moab, where Naomi and her family fled during a time of famine. Now historically Moab is one of the worst enemies of biblical Israel. So the thought of a Moabite heroine takes some getting used to. But that is happening all the time in the Bible. Women from Moab become king David’s great-grandmother. Samaritans, another enemy of Israel, render aid. Ninevites, yet another set of bad guys, repent instantly when Jonah confronts them with God’s Word. In other words, the Bible is always turning upside down conventional understandings of the good guys and the bad, the in people and the outsiders, those who see and those who do not see.

So Ruth, the Moabite, when given the choice to return to her home where her security is more assured, chooses instead to follow her mother-in-law to Israel where her security is practically non-existent. Does she do this simply out of biological or national loyalty? No, because she is from Moab, not Israel, and she is an in-law not a blood daughter. Her decision to follow Naomi is rooted in a relationship that transcends biological or nationalistic terms. And this commitment, for that is what it is, sees only the love and not the peril. Now Ruth is a fairy tale, it is true, and they do live happily ever after. But at this point in the story, Ruth is saying yes when she has every reason to say no. That is the part we are to pay attention to.

Mark is even more explicit. Jesus has been traveling the countryside teaching, healing, and casting out demons. In short, making a real spectacle of himself. Apparently his family had seen enough, for they come to collect him and save he and they from further embarrassment. But when Jesus is told that his family is outside, he looks instead to those gathered around him and declares “whoever does the will of God is my mother, and brother, and sister.” My adelphoi. So what is the will of God? Mark, as well as Matthew and Luke take from sixteen to twenty six chapters to lay that out. John, in his gospel, is a bit more succinct. John reduces much of the detail to a single word—love. Now, back to my experiences in parenting.

Which are by no means unique. Every parent has been there, grandparents too. Even Aunts and Uncles. We have been there at our children’s’ piano recitals. Or T-Ball games. Or pre-school Christmas programs. Or school plays. Or take your pick from your own experience. Have you noticed, while attending these special moments with your precious young person, that the general public is not there? Why are there only relatives at these events? Because free from the subjectivity of those who value the participant…they are really quite tedious. T-Ball is definitely a game only a parent could love. The stop and start and stop rhythms of the first grade piano recital are not the stuff of great music. The general public does not attend such events because they event itself is not the draw. The quality of the event is not the point. What makes these moments special and enduring and worth watching on video five years later is the relationship between the participant and the spectator—which, I dare say, is rooted one hundred percent in love.

We go to piano recitals and little league games in 80 degree weather and soccer games in freezing weather not because the event itself is dramatically important but because the participant is dramatically important. And what I am coming to understand about the church as family and about building authentic community in the church is that we need to think of church programming and even church worship to some degree not as an event of importance—as if we just got the elements right and the music in the right beat things would really take off—and think more about the people with whom we worship as dramatically important. We must not approach church as consumers, taking and leaving whatever appeals to us, and think more of valuing and honoring the diversity of interests and needs of the people around us.

In North Platte we have a woman who has come to find great spiritual value in walking a labyrinth. She was so moved by this ministry that she was led to ask the church to acquire a canvas labyrinth. She developed a labyrinth group around this and began to promote labyrinth walks. Few came. At a Session meeting where we were talking about community building this woman mentioned that no one comes to the labyrinth walks. Another of the elders responded, “well what is it? I don’t understand it. I don’t go to things I don’t understand.” And that is when the light bulb came on for me. You see, the labyrinth is not for everyone to be sure. But it was valued by this one person. And rather than dismissing it because “I don’t understand it”, why not take a moment to learn about it because she cares about it? Why not take an hour to walk the Labyrinth as a way of saying “I value you, and I will honor what you honor because of our relationship in Christ.” Isn’t that why we go to piano recitals? That is how we might think about our relationship to one another in the Church of Jesus Christ.

I have fond memories of this place. I have fonder memories of the people who made up the community of this place. I remember the church picnics at Sam and Terry Evans’ farm. I remember one Epiphany evening when we gathered around a roaring fire and celebrated the light. I remember little sacks of candy and fruit given out after the Christmas parties. I remember pot lucks in Blair hall and a Pepsi machine which dispensed bottles for fifteen cents. And in and through all of these memories are the people. The people who loved me and taught me how to love. That is what community is about. That is why we go to the piano recital. Not to value the event, but the person. That is why God comes to us in Jesus Christ. Because God values our personhood. Each and every one of us—the children of God.