WHY IS A CHURCH?

a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday September 14, 2003


READING: James 2: 1-8, 14-18.

[extemporaneous introduction]

The word for “church” in the Greek New Testament is ecclesia, and it means, literally, “to be called out” or “called together.” A church is a collection of individuals who have been called together out of the world in order to form a community with one another, a congregation where everyone is accepted just as they are, but also inspired and encouraged to become the kind of people that their Creator intends for them to be. The process by which this happens is a simple one. It begins by learning to look deeply within ourselves, until we find that place where our spirit touches the infinite, and then returning from that place with fresh insight and a new understanding of our unique personal gifts, which we can then begin to share with others. Or to put it another way, the church is a place where people who are hurt or broken can come to be healed and made whole, and people who are basically healthy and whole can grow to become wise and (dare I say it?) Holy -- empowered by an experience of the divine to do good in the world, because we act out of love and compassion for our fellow creatures, rather than recoiling in fear or pain, selfishness and shame.

One of the reasons that churches are able to accomplish this important transformation so effectively (at least in my expert opinion) is that churches remain, for the most part, one of the few truly “locally owned and operated” public institutions in our society. It is here in a "human scale" organization that human beings most effectively encounter the Divine -- through our relationships with one another. The 1648 Cambridge Platform, which is the document out of which our own congregational principles of church government have developed, states clearly that the ideal congregation one that is small enough to conveniently meet in one place, yet large enough to effectively do the work of the church as a whole. Each local congregation was understood to be an autonomous representative of the Church Universal, and was responsible for ministering effectively to the community which it serves.

And what exactly is this “work of the church?”

Well, a first major area of this work is Worship — in effect what we're doing right now. We gather together, in a public way, to celebrate our common values and lift up a shared heritage and traditions. In some churches worship can become a very elaborate production: there are hundreds of people in the choir, maybe even a small orchestra to accompany the organist, and of course only the most gifted and eloquent preachers occupy the pulpit. Sometimes there's so much going on that there is a very real danger of worship becoming a "performance," and the people merely spectators -- "lost in the footlights" of what is essentially an act of entertainment. But the word "liturgy" means, literally, the work of the people. Worship is something that we do, not something that we watch: an expression of devotion and gratitude for the many gifts which life has given us, and the important tasks which life demands of us.

A second major area of work for the church is Education, the means by which we rear our children within a community of faith, and deepen our own understanding and experience of that faith as well. In relatively small churches such as this one there is often a temptation to envy "big" church school programs because they look a lot more like "real" classrooms — full of kids, using the most up-to-date curricula… the teacher in front of the class, trying to keep everything in order while proceeding through the lesson plan. But I'm not so sure that this is really the best way to educate children about religion, or anything else, for that matter. It seems to me that classes which emphasize the interaction between a committed teacher and a handful of students are far more appropriate for the modeling of religious life and religious values. Unlike in "real school," life doesn't always give the test at the end of the semester. The test can come at any time; and it is the role of our teachers to help us learn our lessons in time to use them.

A third responsibility of the church is to cultivate a sense of Fellowship -- which I would define as the relationships formed between members of a congregation which support and encourage them in their journey of faith. One of the most striking features of contemporary society is its anonymity, which tends to preserve the illusion that we can always somehow hide from our mistakes. But in a church, everyone eventually seems to know one another’s business, and it can be easy to step on one another’s toes as well. One of the hardest things to do in the world is to approach someone with whom you've had a falling-out, and come to some sort of understanding or reconciliation, to mend fences, bury the hatchet. But it is also one of the most important things. In a church, you have to learn to forgive and to be forgiven; and it is this reciprocity and sense of mutual commitment to one another which takes us beyond the superficiality of many of our other social relationships.

This brings us to a fourth area of church work, which is Pastoral Care. I know that some of you may think that pastoral care is a duty best left to the pastor, and on some level this is probably true. But in our day-to-day lives as members of a religious community, it is essential that we all learn how to care for one another in times of crisis and pastoral need. Even in relatively small congregations, it is difficult for the pastor to be everywhere at once, or even to know everything that is going on. Ministers rely on the members of their congregations to tell them when things are happening in people’s lives that would benefit from a little pastoral attention. And I’m not just talking about calling the minister when you are about to go into the hospital, I’m talking about calling the minister when you know of someone ELSE who is going into the hospital. And there are lots of other things that folks can do to help their friends and neighbors in times of personal crisis that don’t require any professional training, only a kind heart and a compassionate eye. Shared ministry is an authentic partnership between the pastor and the people, in which we all work together in order to enhance the ministry of the church to the world.

The last major area of the work of the church is sometimes referred to as hospitality or charity, or (in more contemporary language) Social Action, but which I like to think of it as “EMO” -- Evangelical Missionary Outreach. I like this phrase "evangelical missionary outreach" for a couple reasons. First, because it reminds me that the work of the church is indeed a mission -- and it is this mission, this sense of purpose, which provides us with our identity and our reason for being. And second, because it makes it clear that this purpose is not something just for ourselves alone -- rather, it is essential that congregations reach out into their communities in order to serve as effective witnesses for the values and principles which we hold so dear, witnesses to our “good news;” and likewise that we serve as a haven, an oasis, a beloved community, for those who need it, who need for us to be here for them.

I want to turn now briefly to another topic, which kind of follows on from what I’ve just been talking about, and that is the place of political discourse in the free pulpit.

I believe very strongly in the separation of Church and State. The policies (and particularly the police powers) of our civil government should never be allowed to come under the control of any particular sectarian religious organization or ideology, and likewise (and perhaps even more importantly), that same power of government should never be allowed to influence or control the free expression and legitimate practice of religious faith in our pluralistic, secular society. Now obviously there is quite a bit room for ambiguity here, some gray areas which mostly have to do with arriving at a reasonable understanding of the notion of “legitimacy.” And we’ve seen some good examples of this in just the past few weeks, haven’t we? But it seems obvious to me that individuals who attempt to use the shield of religion in order to engage in illegal activities like theft, or murder, clearly are not protected by the First Amendment.

Furthermore, not only is worshiping a graven image explicitly prohibited by the Second COMMANDMENT, but setting up a massive stone monument to a specific religious tradition in the lobby of a public courthouse is probably not the best method for reassuring people who don’t necessarily share those beliefs or belong to that faith tradition that they are about to receive a fair and impartial hearing before the bar of justice. (Of course, maybe that was the whole point all along). My view, however, is Thou shalt not commit idolatry on public time or with the public dime (maybe that’s the message they OUGHT to erect in the Alabama Supreme Court). And I’m sure we can all think of other activities of dubious legitimacy (I won’t try to itemize them all here) which from time to time may bring church and state into conflict with one another. But on the whole, a strict wall of separation between church and state is one of the key principles that make both authentic democracy and freedom of religious belief possible in an increasingly diverse and pluralistic world.

The dynamic relationship between religion and politics, however, is not nearly so easily delineated. If politics is the practice of making decisions as a community, and religion represents the expression of our highest values and aspirations, it is only natural that our religious convictions must, on some level at least, influence and shape our political opinions. This is NOT to suggest that we should allow our politics to become our religion. Because politics also represents the art of the possible, an ability and the willingness to compromise in order to achieve agreement in the here and now. Religion, on the other hand, in many ways represents our vision of the impossible: our trust in things which we feel but cannot see, our hope for a better and more perfect community in times to come. So the two are related, but they are also distinct, and unavoidably influence one another in our never-ending effort to become better people than we now are, and to put our beliefs and values into practice in our everyday lives.

Conservative Religious leaders like Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell are rarely shy about expressing their political opinions whenever the opportunity arises. And there are many religious leaders, myself included, who would attribute much of the rancor and acrimony of contemporary political discourse to the sanctimonious, “holier-than-thou” self-righteousness of the Fundamentalist Christian Right, who (as best I can tell) sincerely do believe that God favors one political party over another, just as they believe that America is divinely favored over all the other nations of the world, despite our awkward Constitutional separation of Church and State.

My own political sentiments (as it probably won’t take you too long to figure out) tend to lean pretty solidly in the other direction, although I am, in fact, a registered Independent, and have been pretty much all of my adult life. In accordance with my liberal religious views, I also tend to be rather liberal on most social issues, although I can unquestionably be quite conservative about some things, such as the Bill of Rights and the civil liberties it was intended to protect. And I’ll tell you honestly, I can’t remember the last time I actually voted for a Republican candidate. Even so, as an historian, I have a great deal of respect and admiration for the principles which originally gave rise to the party of Lincoln, back in the days when it was also the party of Abolition, and thus enthusiastically supported by a great many Unitarians here in New England. And I still respect and admire those same principles of liberty, independent thought, duty, nobless oblige, and the honorable privilege of public service (as opposed to using a position of public trust as a means of protecting one’s social privilege) whenever I see them exhibited by contemporary “moderate” Republicans such as Elliott Richardson, William Cohen, George Mitchell, or most recently, James Jeffords.

And my promise to all of you is this: whenever I do speak of politics from this pulpit (as I’m confident I will often have occasion to in these increasingly troubled times), I will always attempt to speak out of the teachings of our religious tradition rather than merely expressing my private political opinions. I will try to be fair rather than partisan, to look for points of consensus as well as points of criticism, and to embody the virtue of civility, which I still believe is essential to the smooth functioning of civil society. But I would also remind you that one of the obligations of the Free Pulpit is to speak prophetically, in the tradition of Jeremiah: to speak the truth to power, to speak-up for those who cannot speak for themselves, to be the voice of those who have no voice: the oppressed, the marginalized, the down-trodden. The free pulpit is also a critical pulpit, which endeavors always to confront the power of evil with the light of truth. But my purpose in speaking up and speaking out is not to tell you what YOU should believe, but rather simply an attempt to articulate and share my own most deeply-held beliefs, something which is both my duty and my responsibility as your minister, in the hope that you might somehow find whatever meager wisdom or insight I may possess beneficial in your own spiritual journeys.

Speaking out prophetically about issues of Social Justice is only one small part of our larger ministry of Community Activism, which in turn is only one aspect of the overall work of the Church. By meeting regularly for public worship, by educating our children while learning from one another, by simply enjoying one another’s company, treating one another with dignity and respect, and caring for one another in times of need or crisis, we do God’s work here in our small corner of the Universe, Carlisle Massachusetts. And through doing that work, we show the world our faith, not just in words, but by deeds of hospitality and outreach to our Neighbors and fellow Creatures....