Surprised by God's People (Philippians 3:4b-14)

What is to be gained in the life of faith?

While under house arrest for his preaching, Paul continues to write to far distant congregations. Considering that his freedoms are limited, his movements are watched, and his life is threatened if he steps too far out of line, Paul embodies that courage that might seem puzzling. How can someone who is under the thumb of empire speak with such hope and fervor?

Throughout his life, Paul has been religious. Paul kept the faith diligently, living it out through his disciplined life of religious adherence. Famously or infamously, he rose up in the ranks of the Jerusalem religious establishment to the point he was a chief persecutor of the fledging religious group claiming Jesus as their messiah and the Son of God. Paul was as religious as you could imagine, until he had that fateful experience of conversion and embraced the religious teachings of the early Christians, the same people for whom he was a symbol of religious intolerance and terror. Paul became a chief supporter of Christianity, spreading the Gospel throughout the known world.

His missionary journeys are now part of any good set of Bible maps, tracing his journeys around the major urban areas of his day. Paul’s writings comprise much of the New Testament, his epistles overshadowing the epistles of any other writer who made it into the official canon of Scripture. This is all quite an accomplishment and testament to his mission and ministry, yet strangely, if Paul walked in today, he would be the first to discount any abundant praise. Paul writes to the far distant believers of the Philippian church, encouraging them not to hang onto the things that they only seem to be hung up with. He calls them to realize that there is indeed much to be gained and lost in life, but it might not be what you expect it to be.

Like all the great figures of the Bible, Paul has the humility to point to God rather than himself. And out of this humility, he looks at his life with its seeking out of righteousness, his respect as a religious leader, and anything else that in the hands of others would be opportunities for self-promotion and self-justification as “rubbish” in comparison to what he has discovered is what God really wants for us in this life.

Fred Craddock tells a great story about his encounter with an old greyhound dog who retired from racing. Unfortunately, once the dogs get too old, they are disposed of in a variety of ways, some of them heartbreaking. One of Craddock’s nieces adopted greyhounds to give them a new home and a new chapter in their life. Craddock says,

There was this old greyhound dog there, just like the ones who race around a track chasing those mechanical rabbits. I found this dog sitting there on the floor, a young child resting on the dog’s belly; a toddler pulling on the dog’s ear. The dog looked happy with all the attention.

I said to the dog, “Are you still racing?” And the dog replied, “No.” “Well, what was the matter? Did you get too old to race?” “No, I still had some race in me.” “Well, what then? Did you not win?” “I won over a million dollars for my owner.” “Well, what was it? Bad treatment?” “Oh, no,” the dog said, “they treated us royally when we were racing.” “Did you get crippled?” “No.” “Then why?” Craddock pressed, “Why?” The dog answered, “I quit.” “You quit?” “Yes,” he said, “I quit .” “Why did you quit?” “I just quit. Because after all that running and running and running, I found out that the rabbit I was chasing wasn’t even real.” (Craddock Stories)

What is to be gained in the life of faith?

In the living history of this congregation, we have many persons who remember a day when these pews were quite full. Easter Sunday, the doors over yonder were opened so the overflow crowd could be seated in the chapel. You had to plan ahead to make sure “your” pew was available, especially after the practice of renting pews faded away in the early 20^th century.

Flash-forward to the present day, and well, things have changed. We occupy a building built with the vision of “200 in Sunday school and 300 in worship”, but we had about twenty in Sunday school and four-dozen in worship last week. Our story at First Baptist is the story of many, many congregations across North America. Since the mid-1960s, U.S. Christian churches, especially of the historic denominations like American Baptists, United Methodists, Presbyterians, UCC, and the list goes on, have been in decline. Like so many other congregations, we find ourselves yearning for a return to the “good ole days”, yearning for fuller pews, more squalling babies, and the same civic and social currency that the mainline Protestant churches used to have in abundance.

Some of us find ourselves a bit puzzled that such a time existed. I was baptized in 1984 as a ten year old child, and as I think about what I have read about the statistical decline and the shrinking of the denominational mission support dollar, I realize that I have never known the “heyday” of the Church as it has been told to me by elders in the faith. And I also realize with due sobriety that many persons in my age bracket never harkened the door of a church, let alone were baptized or involved in the life of a congregation, even for short-term outreach events like Vacation Bible School. We are not what we used to be.

Why do Paul’s words from long-ago make so much good sense to Christians living in a different sort of era of the church, an era indifferent to the church? Paul reminds us that the life of faith is not about the successes, or the times of being at the height of the mountaintop. Faith is about the day-to-day, humble effort to follow Christ and share the good news to those around us. We can get caught up in chasing all manner of things, but only a few things really matter. What are those things? I have my suspicions, but for now, let me offer this word of grace: We are not the sum of our attendance records. Indeed, if we take Paul seriously, we are still becoming what God wants us to be.

What is to be gained by the life in faith?

Three years ago, First Baptist voted to go on a journey, one that seemed a bit like old Mr. Frost’s “road less traveled”. You realized that church as you know it is in need of revision and renewal. Looking back, there have been changes along the way, a great deal of courage, and sometimes a measure of anxiety and bewilderment. This month, we celebrate some of the fruits of this time of intentional labor in the area of congregational transition. On October 19, we will have a time to share some key developments, some of these will be kept back as “surprises” for the day, so please plan to be with us that Sunday as key lay leaders share the outcome of a lot of hard work and a great deal of commitment.

One of the realizations along the way these past three years regards the ministry of the laity (i.e. “you” and “you” and “you”). For many years, it was assumed, presumed, and generally expected that vision, leadership, and hands on work really fell to the minister (and sometimes the thought was to the minister alone). We have been working to shift the leadership of the congregation more intentionally into the hands of every person. The whole people of God are involved in the ministry and mission of the Church, not just one or a few.

Along the way, we are also experimenting with “big picture questions” of what a vision for this congregation’s ministry might look like. It is an elusive question, sort of “there” in the background, and I am hopeful that we will move it to the forefront so that we can have some common words to guide our ministries and focus our mission.

Nonetheless, I hear Paul’s humility in Philippians, chapter 3. We need to keep ourselves open to God’s leading, open to the wide horizon of Christ’s gospel, and open to the places that God’s mighty Spirit takes us. We can never settle for memories of our past as the sole measurement of our present day’s endeavors. We need to be surprised by what God is calling us to do!

To that end, I am going to sit down and let somebody else finish this sermon. Our Sunday school class has been exploring the idea of “risk taking” as a way of doing mission and service as a congregation. We are faithful supporters of American Baptist mission as well as to other organizations (local and otherwise), so faithful we do so to the tune of $14,000 per annum. However, our mission and service needs a bit of “hands on” and “local” work as well, and the Sunday school class suggested two ways that we can be the hands and feet of Christ to this very community. As I said, they get to finish the sermon…..