“Generations”

First Congregational United Church of Christ

October 31, 2010

The Rev. Sharyl B. Peterson

Scripture Readings:  Psalm 16 (KJV), Galatians 6: 1-6, 9-10 (The Message)

Today, in our Annual Church Memorial Service, we gather to do three important things.  First of all, we gather to thank God for the lives of each of the people we are thinking about today – whether we lost them very recently, or long ago; whether we acknowledge them formally in our liturgy today, or less formally, in our memories and our hearts.  Second, we gather today to remember those people; to remember who they were, and what they were like, and how they touched our lives.  And third, we gather today to honor them – and how we might do that I’m going to talk about a little later at length.

            We always hold our annual Memorial Service on the Sunday closest to All Saints’ Day, in part because we are deliberately acknowledging the “saints” we have known.  It’s important to know that in the Protestant church, the word – the label – “saint” – doesn’t just refer to people who may have performed extraordinary or supernatural deeds.  Instead, “saints” in the Protestant church are ordinary people like you and me – ordinary people who in small ways or large ones, sometimes consciously, sometimes less consciously, made a choice to let God use them to make the Good News of God’s love visible in the world. 

            Now, if that sounds a little abstract or over-the-top to describe some of the people we’re remembering, you may prefer another definition of “saints.”  Frederick Buechner, in his wonderful book Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC, says, “saints are essentially life-givers.  To be with them is to become more alive[1].”  And so, the first thing we do in today’s service is to thank God – intentionally – whole-heartedly – for all of the ways in which those people we are remembering gave us life – made us (and perhaps our community, and our world) more alive.

The second thing we do – and it’s hard to thank God for these dearly-loved people without doing this – is to remember who … what … how these people were and lived.  These people who were beloved wives and husbands … cherished fathers and mothers and grand-parents ... treasured children … brilliant scientists, good businesspeople who contributed to their communities, fun-loving adventurers and fellow travelers, and dear friends. 

            This morning, we remember what a “spitfire” one woman was.  And we remember what a troubled, but deeply good man, another person was.  We remember what a great cook and mom another person was.  And what fun a dearly-loved father was.  We remember the joys and the heartaches of a life lived closely with a spouse or partner.  We remember the pride in a beloved child, and how much we miss her.  We remember everything that made this person who he or she was, and all the ways his or her life enriched our own. 

            We remember them … and we remember that they are now with God … and we remember that, as the Psalmist puts it, this is the God – our God – who has given us “the saints that are in the earth.”  The God who “is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup; who maintainest my lot… (who has given us) a goodly heritage.” 

And the third important thing we’re called to do both as we gather today, and when we leave this place, is not just to remember these people, but also to honor them.  And of the three things, that may be the hardest one for us to do, depending on what we mean by “honor them.” 

            If that just means speaking their name aloud in a few minutes, or remembering them in our prayers, then it’s not all that difficult to do, even though our memories may be painful.  But if it means more than that – and I believe it does – then “honoring them” becomes more challenging.  If “honoring them” means following in their footsteps … trying to model our lives after the good or inspiring examples they set … carrying on with work that they started … that raises the bar for us. 

            But if we don’t honor them in those ways … if we decide instead to take the easy way out of simply romanticizing past glories of what used to be; or resist following their good examples because we don’t think we can live up to their standards, or because it’s just too much work, or because we can’t bear to change the way things are now … then we let them down in profound ways.  Things they may have worked so hard to bring about, values they may have worked so hard or to foster, may cease to exist because we aren’t willing to carry on where they left off.

Now, because our setting here is a church-setting, I invite us to think about many of those we remember today in the context of this congregation.  That won’t fit for everybody we remember, but it will for many.    I invite us to remember the people we have known who were deeply faithful, whether they saw themselves that way or not, but who lived the kind of faith Paul was talking about in his letter to the Galatians. 

            To quote Paul, they are the people who “lived creatively” … who “forgivingly restored others, saving their critical comments for themselves.”  They are the people who saw possibilities where others saw lack, or hopelessness.  They are the people who always spoke a word of peace, instead of a word of criticism. 

            Returning to Paul’s words, they are the ones who “stooped down and reached out to those who are oppressed;” the ones who “shared the burdens of others.”  These are the folks who volunteered to help with the kids or with the youth, when no-one else would do it, the people who not only gave to mission-projects, but went out into the community, and worked side by side with people who were struggling; these are the ones who gave generously – and joyfully – to support the work of this church.

            Returning again to Paul’s words, these people are the ones who never “allowed (themselves) to get fatigued doing good,” and who never “gave up, or quit.”  They are the people who always looked for the “yes” instead of the “no,” who encouraged people around them to focus on what we can do, and not on what we can’t do, who truly believed that with God, and with our own hard work, all things are possible.

            Last week, as most of you know, I went to Cleveland to attend a meeting at our national UCC Church House.  While I was on the plane, I read several newspapers that I picked up at the airport, from various cities around the country.  And in every paper I found story after story about human want, human need, human desperation, human struggles for dignity and for the kind of wholeness of life that our faith tells us our God yearns for us to have.   And when I got to Cleveland, and we were focusing on the church – on our beloved United Church of Christ – there were more stories of want … and need … and desperation … and how the church is being called out to live out today the values Jesus taught us as it hasn’t been called out in centuries.   Perhaps more than ever before in human history, we need more people like those we remember today – and like us – to gather all our courage, to gather all our resources, to gather all our will, and day by day, choose to live out our faith in the world.

            On the airplane returning from Cleveland, I read something else – an article by a writer named Tom Ehrich that appeared on the ‘Net in Religion News Service[2], in which he talks about the “sagging fortunes” of mainline Protestant churches in this country today.  One thing I loved about the article is that much of what Ehrich says specifically about churches – and what we need to be and to do – also applies to our communities in general today.  Another thing I loved about the article is that Ehrich doesn’t just bemoan the facts that fewer people are attending church (or participating in service organizations like Lions, or Elks, or Altrusa), or that people in general are giving much less generously to support the church (or to other good causes). 

            Instead of offering more doom-and-gloom prognostications, Ehrich says this:  “The way forward is clear… The harder challenge is finding the will to move on… (But if we do) all is possible.”  Let me say that again:  “The way forward is clear… The harder challenge is finding the will to move on… (But if we do) all is possible.”  And he helpfully lists several characteristics, or what he calls “features of the will” that can help us move forward, that can help us flourish, as churches, and as communities, rather than die. 

            The first is that we need to cultivate “a generous spirit.”  Ehrich says that “church members (and, I would argue, most community members) perceive themselves as generous.  But many simply aren’t.”  For example, how many church members make the effort, at Coffee Hour, to go over and introduce themselves to new visitors?  Many people are not generous enough in spirit to make the effort.  For example, how many church members are delighted – and let others know that – when someone “different” from many of us joins us for worship?  Many people, instead of being generous in spirit, grouse about what “people like that” might do to “our church.” 

            Generosity of spirit means cultivating a sense of personal humility.  Generosity of spirit means acknowledging that we don’t always have all the answers, that others have gifts to give us, and that our task is to receive those gifts graciously.  Generosity of spirit means “forming community with the needy” (Ehrich’s words).  And just think – if our ancestors in faith – both long, long ago, and some of those we remember today – had not had generous spirits, we would not be here, or we would not be who we are, today. 

A second characteristic Ehrich says we need to cultivate is “a willingness to take instruction.”  This seems like an especially hard one for us UCC folks, who tend to have strong opinions about everything, and who often believe we know more than others do about what should be done, and how it should be done.  In contrast, a “willingness to take instruction” means being willing to admit that no matter how smart we may be, we do not know it all.  It means understanding that we have things we can learn from other people,             and not just from the ones who are just like us, but also from the ones who are different.  It means that part of being a church-member – or a community-member – is to recognize and value the gifts of others,     and to be willing to follow them, rather than our always wanting to lead the way.

            I think about the first church I served as a student pastor, in the Black Forest north of Colorado Springs.  The original log church building still stood when I was there, a building that was built by a group of church-folks who were willing to take instruction from each other.  Church-folks most of whom didn’t know anything about felling timber, or about milling it, or about assembling it into a building, but who were willing to learn from the few folks who did know how.  Church-folks who were willing to learn how to quilt … or crochet … or draw … so they could make items to sell in their church bazaars to raise money to pay for things they couldn’t manufacture themselves, like nails, and tools, and a woodstove to heat the newly-built log church.

            And I think about this church in which we sit this morning, and about our stained-glass windows.  For anyone who doesn’t know the story, this sanctuary was built with the plain beige glass windows that were in style in the 1960s.  And one of the “saints” of this church, whose name was Harold Hamel, had a better idea.  He believed this church could create a more beautiful sanctuary, and he found a group of some dozen men – some of whom sit here this morning – who were willing to take instruction on how to cut, and lead, and create our gorgeous stained-glass windows.  And so we can sit in worship this morning, enjoying the beauty and glory that they created, and being touched into a deeper understanding of God’s glory and creativity. 

My friends, if this church is going to thrive, if our communities are going to survive, many of us are going to have to get past some of our pridefulness, and become willing to take instruction from others.

 

            A third feature of will that Ehrich says we need to cultivate is, I believe, the hardest one of all.  And that is “letting go of control.” 

 

            Those of you who have read any of Scott Peck’s books know that he argues in our culture today our “primary addiction” is to control.  We want to be right.  We want to win every argument.  We want to get our way.  We want to maintain (or increase) whatever power we hold. 

 

            Every time we say something like, “That shouldn’t be this way” (e.g., “the Trustees shouldn’t have bought a new boiler,” or “the Deacons shouldn’t expect us to be willing to usher on Sundays,” “the church newsletter should never get anyone’s birthday wrong” – or “Congress should (or shouldn’t) have done this or that,” or “The Daily Sentinel is just too liberal/conservative (depending on your political view),” or “We shouldn’t be using taxpayers’ money to build a new river-trail”)  what we’re saying is that our view of how things “should be” (and “should not be”) is right, and anyone who has a different view is wrong.

 

            That may make us feel better about ourselves, and what we believe is our own superior understanding of the world, but it does not build community, it does not contribute to the greater good, and it is not life-giving.  Friends, if our ancestors in faith (or in the wider community) had done what so many of us do – if they had been unwilling to let go of control – we wouldn’t be here today. 

 

            Now, I am pretty sure that those people we are remembering today weren’t perfect, any more than any of us are perfect.  I am pretty sure that they too, sometimes had spirits that felt less than generous; that they, too sometimes were unwilling to take instruction; that they, too, sometimes had problems letting go of control.  I am also pretty sure that they still managed, much of the time, to be generous in spirit … to be willing to listen and to learn … to be willing to trust and let others lead.  And I am absolutely sure that if we do not follow their lead in cultivating those characteristics of will, we both dishonor them, and put our own future in peril. 

 

            The Rev. Kenneth Samuel, one of our UCC pastors who is the Senior Minister of Victory Church in Atlanta, shared his reflection about this in one of our UCC Stillspeaking Daily Devotionals.  He says, “Just as the past can be our stumbling block, the past can also be our stepping stone… Our memory not only reminds us of the past, it serves as a guide for the future… History not only precedes the future, it inspires it as well[3].”

 

            May our memories today of loved ones who are no longer with us bring us remembered love, and joy, and peace, and may they inspire us as well.  We do well to honor those we have loved, by carrying forward the work they began, so that the legacy we leave one day will serve well those who come after us.  In Paul’s words, may we “each … take responsibility for doing the creative best (we) can with (our) own life.” 

 

            May we live well. May we live faithfully.  May we honor those who have gone before us by building a better future for those who will come after us.  Amen.