Luke 6 November 11 2018
There is an Indian tribe in Ecuador called the Jivaro tribe. Each night when the children are put to bed, the parents linger by their children’s place of rest and whisper in their ear the names of all the people they must hate when they grow older. It is their tribal way of keeping the feuds and enmities alive from generation to generation.
I thought about this story as I reflected upon the killings at the synagogue in Pittsburgh, 11 dead. It also brought to mind the Oklahoma City bombings in 1995, leaving 168 dead, the shootings at the AME church in Charleston, 9 dead, shootings at gay nightclub in Orlando in 2016. 49 dead.
Inflammatory speech, whether uttered by the President or posted on social media, contributes to the radioactivity of hatred. Inflammatory speech stokes anger, fear, and resentment. Inflammatory speech divides the world into camps of us and them.
As I stood in the Lincoln Memorial Friday a week ago and read Lincoln’s words from the II Inaugural Address, “With malice toward none, with charity toward all, let us bind up our nation’s wounds, “ I realized how far we have fallen.
Pastor Eric Manning of the Emmanuel African American Episcopal church in Charleston was invited by Rabbi Jeffry Myers of the Tree of Life Jewish Synagogue to speak at the memorial service of one of the victims. The two clergy have much in common. They are the spiritual leaders of groups that have been harassed and persecuted down through the ages. “This incident” Rabbi Myers said, “like that at Emanuel, was not an attack on a particular group. It was an attack on America because it challenges our right to assemble and worship our God in the way we want. It has continued a downward spiral of hate, one that’s prevalent in all corners of the United States.”
I have lifted up a scripture for our reflections today on hate speech and hate crimes in America. It is Jesus’s words from Luke chapter 6: “Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you. The love Jesus speaks of here is not romantic love, that gushy feeling that sweeps over us when we fall head over heels. In fact this love he speaks of isn’t a feeling at all. It is an attitude which leads to an action. There is a good chance that we will never be able to change the heart of our enemies but we do have control over our hearts toward them. If we treat someone lovingly, even if we feel no real compassion for them, even if we feel contempt toward them, we are practicing kindness, and ultimately we will begin to feel kindness. The part of the equation that is most likely to change is us, not our enemies. The more that we treat those people in our lives who do not deserve compassion with compassion, the more our hearts will change towards them.
An old man was talking to a friend and said, “I’m so lucky. I don’t have an enemy in the world.” The friend said, “That’s amazing.”
“Yep,” the old man said, “I’ve outlived them all.”
“Imagine the vanity,” Augustine said, “of thinking your enmity hurts your enemy more than it does you.” Hatred does nothing to the person that we hate. It only darkens our soul. A. W. Tozer says in The Pursuit of God, “Hate eats on the soul. To get free of hatred is like being healed of cancer.” We experience so much freedom when we can set our hate aside and love people the way that Jesus loved them and see them as image bearers of God.
Leave it to Charlie Brown to express a theological and psychological truth. Charlie Brown is lying in his bed, saying to a sleeping Snoopy at his side, “Sometimes I lie awake at night and I ask,’Where have I gone wrong?’ Then a voice says to me, ‘This is going to take more than one night’.”
The beginning of wisdom is knowing that each of us has gone wrong. The beginning of wisdom is acknowledging that our own divided hearts contributes to the division and the heart-ache of the world. No matter how many times I stand in the pulpit, I can never point you enough to Jesus Christ and his cross. In his refusal to retaliate against those who harmed him, in his indefatigable good will toward his enemies, Jesus Christ made it possible for us to be reconciled to God and to one another. And we are in the church not because we have earned our way here. We are here because Christ reached out for us, paid a price for us, won us back to God, and broke down the walls separating us from God and one another.
The hurt and pain of the world begins in our own divided hearts. And it spreads. Oh, how it spreads from person to person, neighborhood to neighborhood, country to country. But thank God, there is an antidote.
There is a hopeful sign, a sign that hangs upon the cross, a sign which reads, “The hurt and the hate stop here.”
Here are ten affirmations emailed to me this week from my friend, Gae Chalker, who is an Episcopal priest in Hawaii. She preached here a couple of time last year.
1. I will only use thoughtful, truthful speech and refrain from any words that are a personal attack on another person.
2. I will seek to understand the concerns of those who are on the “other side of the aisle” and the people they represent.
3. I will not be afraid to speak up and express my thoughts if I believe something is not ethical.
4. I will be mindful of the weakest or least powerful in our country – the poor, the sick, the elderly, the marginalized, the alien and all those oppressed by injustice.
5. I will work to seek non-violent ways of resolving conflicts in our country and in our world.
6. I will work to provide opportunities for all Americans to receive quality education, health care, and employment that provides a living wage.
7. I will learn about how we humans are impacting all of creation and my decisions will consider the future of our environment.
Most important are the following three affirmations:
8. I will practice every day to be humble and let go of my pride.
9. I will remind myself that all human beings are God’s children, just like me.
10. I will pray every day for God’s guidance.
As I read through Gae’s list of affirmations, I thought they are not just for the leaders of our country but for all of us. Gandi said it and it is so true: “ We must be the change we want to see in the world.”
Luke 6 November 11 2018
John 15:1-20; October 7 2018
Aaron Feuerstein is a loyal guy. In a culture where work environments breed insecurity and layoffs are the norm, Aaron Feuerstein is a hero in the dog-eat-dog world of work.
Decades ago, when textile mill after textile mill moved to other locations, Feuerstein kept his Malden Mills factory open in the blue collar town of Lawrence, Massachusetts.
When the mill burned down just a few weeks before Christmas–Feuerstein the owner of this company that manufactures Polar Fleece–announced that his workers would continue to be paid. He also told them they would continue to receive health care benefits during the reconstruction of the factory. Yes, he would rebuild.
Even when a handful of workers sued him, in spite of his unparalleled generosity to them, he empathized with their plight. “They are poor people,” Feuerstein explained, and with their lawyers tempting them with astronomical settlement figures, they could not resist. He loyally forgave them even for their own lack of loyalty.
Susan Stamberg interviewed Aaron Feuerstein for NPR’s “Morning Edition in a series on loyalty. Aaron Feuerstein explained why he did what he did. “It’s the right thing to do,” he said about his decision to keep his employees on the payroll after the fire. His actions reflected one way “to save” his community and his people. They needed him and he did not abandon them. Without his grace, their futures would have been bleak.
The loyalty series led Stamberg to talk to teenagers, sports fans, and military leaders–as well as Mr. Feuerstein–on the subject of loyalty. Some interviews were inspiring. Most however revealed the sorriness of the human condition. Most demonstrated that while hope springs eternal, loyalty springs ephemeral.
We learned, for instance, that teenagers dole out loyalty on a case by case base. Say you have a movie date scheduled, but then out of the blue your extremely cool fantasy crush who didn’t even seem to know your name calls you up and wants to get together on the night you had your date scheduled. What do you do? Simple. You ditch date number one.
Best Friend tells you her deep dark secret and begs you never to tell. Cross your heart and swear by the power of Britney Spears halter-top. But what if the secret is drug use? What if the secret is bulimia.
Susan Stamberg found that whether the issue is boyfriends, drugs, or health, everything depends on the circumstances. Loyalty ebbs and flows.
In the field of business, the loyalty that once bonded individual workers with a company for a life time went out with the Royal Typewriter. Loyalty fluctuates with the economy. When profits go up, loyalty rises. When profits go into the tank, loyalty dissolves.
Aaron Feuerstein stands out as the except to the rule of profits first. Business, for Feuerstein, is also about fidelity, trust, the way people are treated.
In the 15th chapter of John, Jesus says, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this; that a man lay down his life for his friends.” This section of John’s Gospel is called “the farewell discourse.” Jesus is speaking to his disciples on the last night of his life. Later, when his disciples recall these words, they link them with the cross.
In a world where loyalty is an endangered species, Jesus stand as an exception to the standard operating procedure. He remains loyal to his friends and to his mission to the end.
“I will never leave you, nor forsake you,” God tells the Hebrew children. God hangs tough with us. And God never changes.
We admire loyalty because we know when we see it, it is a reflection of the nature and character of God. We admire loyalty, because we know when we see it, we have witnessed a bit of Christ-likeness.
If the factory burns down, no one really expects the boss to continue to pay benefits. If profits are down, nobody expects to Board of Directors not to lay off workers. If things nose dive, nobody expects loyalty to count for much.
I mean, who can you really trust? Corporations? Look at Jimmy Johns, Fed Ex and Wal Mart, all of whom cheated their employees of rightful wages. Look at all the retirees who lost their shirts in the Arizona Baptist Foundation.
But here and there you see a few glimpses of what loyalty means. According to Jeffrey Pfeffer, the Thomas D. Dee Professor of Organizational Behavior at the Stanford School of Business, companies get what they deserve in the way they treat their employees. Companies that treat their people right get enormous dividends: high rates of productivity and low rates of turnover. Companies that treat their employees badly experience the exact opposite–and then end up complaining about the lack of loyalty and lousy performance. These are “toxic” workplaces, Pfeffer said. Pfeffer disputes much of the conventional wisdom in the current conversation about work and business. Loyalty isn’t dead, he insists, but toxic companies are driving people away. There are plenty of people out there who long for good companies, but the increasing number of toxic companies are giving all companies a bad name.
When Susan Stamberg interviewed people in the military on this subject, she discovered that loyalty is one of the virtues most honored. When Marines declare “SEMPER FI” (“always faithful”) they are referring to more than a motto.
Best-selling author William Manchester fought on Sugar Loaf Hill in Okinawa during World War II. Thirty-four years later, he visited that bloody mountain side where he had fought as a Marine. This is what he recalls:
“I understand, at last, why I jumped hospital that long-ago Sunday and, in violation of orders, returned to the front and almost certain death.
“It was an act of love. Those men on the line were my family, my home. They were closer to me than I can say, closer than any friends had been or ever would be. They were comrades; three of them had saved my life. They had never lt me down, and I couldn’t do it to them. I had to be with them, rather than let them die and me live with the knowledge that I might have saved them. Men, I now knew, do not fight for flag or country, for the Marine Corps or glory or any other abstraction. They fight for their friends.”
Greater love hath no man than this….Today we remember the One who pledged his loyalty to us, and then gave his life as an undying and eternal symbol of that loyalty. His sacrificial death is the single-most important act in human history. In that death, we know that he will never leave, he will never forsake us.
Ira Hayes was born into a Presbyterian Family in Sacaton, Arizona, on the Pima Indian Reservation south of Chandler, east of now I-10 in 1923. In 1942 Ira joined the Marines and became a paratrooper, graduating from Parachute Training School in November 1942.
After several assignments fighting the Japanese, he helped capture Mount Suribachi, Iwo Jima. Ira was one of the six Marines that raised the Stars and Stripes on Mount Suribachi on February 28, 1945. An AP photographer took the photo of the flag raising which became one of the most published front cover photos on magazines during the war.
One of the six Marines was Harlon Black who was killed on Iwo Jima in March 1945. (Remember this for more details later in the story).
Ira and two flag raisers were sent to Washington D.C. per President Roosevelt to promote the sale of war bonds to help pay for the war. People would recognize Ira and, “Come on, let me buy you a drink”. For several years an Indian could not buy alcohol. Like many white people, they could not hold the spirits but that did not stop them from using alcohol.
Ira was discharged from active duty December 1, 1945 and returned to the Pima Reservation and attempted to lead a normal civilian life. “I kept getting hundreds of letters, people would drive through the reservation, walk up to me and ask, “Are you the Indian who raised the flag on Iwo Jima?”. So use your imagination for the next gesture.” Ira rarely spoke about the flag raising, but talked more about his service as a Marine with great pride. Ira was bothered mentally about his buddies that never made it back stateside alive.
Ira was disturbed that Harlon Block was misrepresented in the flag raising photo with another name. He walked and hitchhiked 1,300 miles to Weslaco, Texas from the Gila River Indian Community to Edward Block’s (Harlon’s father) farm to reveal the truth about their son. The Blocks were grateful for Ira’s efforts. They and Ira were instrumental in getting the mistake resolved by the Marine Corps in 1947.
In 1949 Ira appeared as himself in the Sands of Iwo Jima with John Wayne. After this, Ira was unable to hold a job for a long period as he had become an alcoholic. He was arrested 52 times for intoxication.
Over 100 years ago the Gila River Pima Reservation farmed with water from the Gila river, which comes from the Arizona eastern state line with New Mexico and flows into the Colorado near Yuma. White man constructed Coolidge Dam southeast of Globe in 1924-1928 and dried up the farms on the Gila reservation. The tribe raised hay and grain, selling it to the U.S. Army Cavalry for their horses. The tribe was fighting for water so they sent Ira to Washington D.C. to represent the tribe for water. According to the movie “The Outsider”, Ira got drunk and missed the water appointment. Returning to the reservation the tribe disowned him because he had let the tribe down. Then he ran for tribal council and lost.
Now some Johnson history. My father and I had a family small dairy. We had a radio in the milk barn. Every morning at 6:15, station KOY called the Arizona Highway Patrol, M.C.S.O. and Phoenix Police for a night’s action report. One night in January 1955, on it was cold in the open milk barn. So cold the cows should have produced milk-cicles from their teats instead of warm milk. The news come on that Ira Hayes was found dead from exposer on the cold night in the Gila Reservation. He was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.
Sometime later, the surviving family members were sent to Arlington for the Memorial Day Services. Ira’s mother said, “This will be a better trip in warmer weather (May)”. Ira was buried February 2, 1955, and it was cold. “Ira did not like cold weather.”
I feel the movie title, “The Outsider” with Tony Curtis was a slap in the face for Ira’s survivors. Our church secretary, Kira, found about 20 pages on the life of Ira. Toward the end of the article on Ira’s life, the story dwells on his problem with alcohol and sometimes my mind drifts away from IRA, AS A MARINE HERO to the tribe’s “Outsider”. I look at the movie title meaning. Ira was a failure and was put outside of the tribe’s daily life. That is my opinion. Think about it.
In closing, I wrote this article about a Presbyterian family member, Arizona Native that served his country in World War II. For the surviving family members of Ira in both of the movies and the life story that Kira found on the computer, would it have been better not to make an issue of Ira’s alcohol problem?
The movie title “THE OUTSIDER”, leaves I my mind that Ira was socially disowned by the tribe. Even if it was true, what good does it do to list Ira’s faults. I would feel better to remember Ira as a WWII hero and not an alcoholic. And probably Ira’s family DID NOT need to be reminded of Ira’s downfall. That is my opinion. Think about it.
Ira, like thousands of other men and women, fought for the freedom that we enjoy. Many lost limbs or even their lives for the American people and it is appreciated today.
Matthew 6:19-34: August 26 2018
“Consider the lilies…how they grow,” Jesus said. There are many wondrous mysteries in the world, none more intriguing than the marvelous mystery of growth, that silent, invisible, universal process occurring through eons of time in forest and field, in rivers and seas. Without that, our planet would be like Mars, red dust and rocks here and there dotting the barren landscape.
Growth–we’re so accustomed to it that we don’t think about it much. Maybe the scientists in the laboratories do, but for the most part we don’t. It is so much part of life that we never stop to ponder its intriguing mystery.
Have you ever considered the lilies–how they grow…how anything grows? A seed sprouts up and becomes a rose, an infinitesimally small egg becomes a child, then a man, then a profound thinker who can reflect on life’s mysteries.
Here’s how one man who has a way with words considers the mysteries and miracles of this process of growth:
“I remember the red gullies, the broom straw, the fields of corn stubble in the Mecklenburg November, and in the spring, the daffodils that still bloom by the hundreds under a certain Orange County oak.”
“I remember the bobolinks and buntings, and mockingbirds mocking, loblolly pines and live oaks hung with moss, the taste of scuppernongs from the vines my father planted.
“ I remember making a slingshot from the fork of a persimmon tree and hunting rabbits with it along the creek bed. Those rabbits were as safe as if they’d been in their mother’s arms. I never hit a one.”
That man describing nature’s bounteous miracle, of course, is Charles Kurault, and I fancy that he would like the subject we are considering today.
The mystery of growth is so profound that we have no language to describe it. The biologists, of course, are trying. They look at cells under the microscope and describe their function. They map the human genome. They can tell us about the basic building blocks of life, how we human beings share the same basic stuff of the humble protozoa, but they can’t answer the question, “How does it grow? Why does it grow? What gives it that “umpff” to grow?” Some people say, “Mother Nature made it all happen. “ And maybe, without knowing it, they are giving a theological answer, for there is a mother soil in which all living things are nourished. Some call it “Mother Nature.” Others call it “God.”
And this is the reason the Sermon on the Mount has a depth that is not readily apparent. It isn’t just a series of wise sayings about life, but rather a revelation telling us about the essential nature of life. Underlying every utterance of Jesus is his fundamental conviction that everything that lives is rooted deeply in the providence of God, is enveloped by it, enfolded it, dependent upon it, and apart from it nothing can exist.
So in these few fragmentary sayings about birds and grass and lilies of the field, there’s a profound insight about mystery of growth.
It’s evident in the area of physical growth. In our hallway we have a series of pencil marks. We measure our grand children each time they come out. My wife said to our oldest grandson this year, “My goodness, Liam, look how much you’ve grown in a year.”
None of us can force growth. It’s out of our hands. Of course, that principle does not apply to the growth of our waistlines.
Look at the plant world. “Consider the lilies, how they grow…” Consider it. Drop a seed into the soil, and you see how instantly it is surrounded and enveloped in a providential process involving the total universe. Ninety three million miles away the sun beams down, the earth turns, the seasons come, the tides move in an out with the pull of the moon, the warm air rises from the oceans in an elaborate air-conditioning system of condensation and evaporation; the lightning flash releases the nourishing nitrogen, drops it to earth in the rainstorm, and our tiny seed is nourished. Each little flower that opens reminds us of the elemental forces of nature always silently at work.
Jesus might have said, “Consider the children, how they grow” This is equally a mystery. How does a boy go about growing up? It’s the quietest thing you ever saw. He takes no thought of it. He has his mind on other things, baseball games, and capturing lightning bugs and swimming at the lake. And all the while something is happening to him. His sleeves get too shot, his pants don’t fit anymore. And his grandma looks at him and says, “Land sakes, you are growing like a weed.” And he stands there looking a little sheepish. He doesn’t know why he’s growing; he just is. He hasn’t intended it or planned it.
Like the lilies of the field you and I are enveloped in a providential arrangement that takes care of our growth. Doctors don’t understand it; they can tell you how it may be stunted or stimulated, but the process itself is beyond their knowing–a secret that nature keeps all to herself.
Move up the ladder to the rung of mental growth, the kind of growing that is more interesting than adding inches to our stature. What is it that propels our minds to grow, to cause us want to explore music, and books, and technology? We don’t sit down one day and say, “I want to be smarter.” No, we see something that interests us, and we tackle it. We want to master it.
How do our minds grow? A lot like the lilies. We can’t grow intellectually by trying to grow. Instead, we walk down some trail of fascinating thought. We climb the stairway of wonder. We set our minds to tackle a task too big for them to grasp, and our minds stretch and expand. Like Columbus, we go out seeking a continent and a lot of other continents rise up in our paths.
Just think for a moment how our minds have been expanded in our life-time in the area of space travel. We take it as common-place that people go to the moon or circle the earth in a space capsule. We land a rover on Mars that can send back photos with incredible precision. I asked a friend the other day if he ever thought we would land human beings on Mars, and he began to calculate, “Let’s see, it would take two years out, and two years back, and enough fuel for the round trip.” To be sure, the astro-physicists are thinking about it, computing its requirements. So our minds are stretched as we follow new knowledge, new vistas, new planets to explore. And we know that God has many things yet to reveal to the inquisitive mind of seeking persons.
When we arrive at the highest and holiest place of the human spirit, the principle we have been talking about still holds true. How do we grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ? How do we add new dimensions to our moral and spiritual nature. I need not remind you that this has become the pressing question of our age–spiritual maturity. Where do we find people wise enough in mind, big enough in soul, perceptive enough in vision to handle the mighty problems of our dangerous world. There aren’t many questions as important as that.
Like all other growth, spiritual growth can’t be forced. It comes as a by-product, something that happens to us as we reach for something else. And this is the secret of worship, why we Christians believe so stubbornly in worship when so many people have forgotten the worth of it. For worship is the soul of a human being reaching up for the greatness of God.
Alfred North Whitehead, that great process philosopher, was fond of saying that moral education is impossible apart from the habitual vision of greatness. And that’s what worship is–the habitual vision of greatness, the time-exposure of the human soul to the highest that we know. We tend inevitably to grow into the likeness of that to which we give our devotion.
When we visited the Sistine Chapel the visitors craned their necks to look upward at Michelangelos frescoes. Someone visiting the gallery said he didn’t know what was more impressive, to look at the paintings or watch the crowd as they gazed at it. Invariably, he said, everyone who stood in the Sistine Chapel o began to straighten up, to put back their shoulder, and stand a little taller, the lifting power of beauty.
I think this is what the Bible is about from beginning to end…little people looking up, people like you and me, who one day, like Isaiah in the temple saw the Lord high and lifted up (Isaiah 6:1). And in seeing the greatness of God, Isaiah became greater himself.
Well, this is the glory of the gospel. In a time when everything around is causing us to look down, the Christian faith is asking us to look up. To give our devotion to something greater than our little lives. And the Glory of Christ is that he puts no ceiling on human life. He knows the potential greatness of our soul. He brings us, one by one, face to face with God. And when that happens, we will stand tall…and rise high…and grow into the kind of people we are meant to be.
Savannah Rodriguez, Carsyn Tupper and Megan O’Kelly were received into the church on Easter Sunday as our communicants class.
The Presbyteries of Grand Canyon and de Cristo are proud to present our annual Big Event, Saturday, August 25 from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Tucson. This day-long educational experience has 26 workshops from which to choose ranging from Empowering Servant Leadership to Clerk of session training to dealing with the Opioid Health Crisis to Effective Church Websites and many more! Choose 3 from the list and join fellow Presbyterians from both presbyteries in learning ways to enrich your Christian journey! Join us for worship and meet new friends from across the state. You can purchase a boxed lunch as a part of your $10 registration. For a complete list of workshops and to register, visit the Presbytery website at www.presbyterydecristo.org or www.pbygrandcanyon.org . Class size is limited, so register today to ensure you get your top choices! See you August 25 at St. Andrew’s PC, 7650 N Paseo Del Norte, Tucson. (And don’t forget to invite your friends!)
Click here to register
Link to list of Workshops can be found here
The church helped Lester Dray celebrate his 102nd birthday on July 22. As the highlight of the worship service Lester played some of his favorites: “I Come to the Garden Alone”, “Heavenly Sunshine” and as a tribute to his late wife, Sybil, “I’ll Be Loving You”. Lester’s daughter, Susan, and granddaugh- ter, Sadie (Sarah), were in town to honor Lester.
Sunday July 22nd, was a special day at P.P.C. Lester Dray made it special as he said goodbye to 101 years “young” and ushers in his 102nd birthday on July 23rd. Different hymns took the place of the regular readings that opened the worship service. Then Sadie Dawson (Sarah Dawson’s granddaughter) and a friend D’Shay sang a beautiful duet. Then
it was time for Lester to play the piano with a medley of different songs. His daughter, Susan, and granddaughter, Sadie, helped him to the piano.
Lester’s vision and hearing are failing, but that did not stop him from playing. There was no music in front of him and he kept colored glasses on so that gave it away that he was playing by ear and memory for maybe 10 minutes. With the health failures mentioned, Lester’s mind is still as sharp as a tack. Thank you Lester for being a part of the P.P.C. family.
After worship most the congregation went to the fellowship hall for the 102 birthday party of cake and five gallons of homemade ice cream. Maybe the crowd
hated to see the five gallons melt on a hot day because I got home with less than
one gallon of melted ice cream. That made me fell good that the crowd liked my “cooking” or freezing is a better word.
We are honored to have guests attend from France and Holland. Folks, what I am saying is this, It was a special day for all of us, for a special person. This does not happen every day. We’re honored with a reason for the season.
Thank you Lester for giving us the privilege to celebrate your special day. We love you and your family.
But God Gave the Growth
I Cor 3:7
When John Witherspoon, the only clergyman to sign the Declaration of Independence, preached at the first General Assembly meeting in Philadelphia May 21 1789 he chose this passage from first I Corinthians 3:7: “I planted, Apollos watered the plants; it was not we, however, but God who made them grow.”
Since I could not find a copy of Witherspoon’s sermon of that day, I can only speculate on what he said. I would like to think that Witherspoon, was conscious that a new church, like the new nation, the United States of America, faced its greatest threat not from external enemies, but from internal enmity. That is to say, the Presbyterian Church of 200 years ago, as it launched out into the frontier to carry the gospel message, needed unity of the spirit and unity in the spirit.
So that’s why I would wager that Witherspoon chose this text. For Witherspoon knew that the problems the Presbyterian church would face were the same problems Paul faced in Corinth.
Someone said that reading lst Corinthians is like taking the roof off a first century church and looking in.
And when we take the roof off what we see is the most incredible contentiousness you can imagine. Things had gotten so out of hand that people in the church had brought law suits against each other. Paul must have worked overtime to keep this congregation from fracturing. Paul’s appeal to the Corinthians was for unity. Paul could say, “Diversity in the church, yes; division, never. Candor in the church, yes, but cantakerousness, never; frankness with each other, yes, but fractiousness, never.
People who can’t stand each other are always seeking an opening for a new round of the battle. And so the Corinthians choose sides in support of the leadership of the church. Some side with Paul, who is the founder of the church. And some side with Apollos, the eloquent and intellectual preacher from Alexandria, who has succeeded Paul. With different personalities and styles and approaches, Paul and Apollos come at the Corinthian church from different angles. The Corinthians seize on these differences by saying, “I belong to Paul; I belong to Apollos.” Yet Paul and Paul and Apollos themselves always have a warm and cordial relationship. They were allies, not rivals. To have the church split over the personalities of the leaders was the last things either of them wanted.
“I planted,” Paul writes, meaning that he was the first evangelist to arrive in Corinth, “Apollos watered,” meaning that Apollos took up where I left off, “but” and here’s the important point, “God gave the growth.”
But God gave the growth. Paul separates here what is primary and what is secondary, not only in church life but in all of life. I planted, Apollos watered–human efforts, human achievement, and no doubt important. But it is God who gave the growth. The creation and nurturing of the faith is not the work of the preacher, or even the hearer, but is the gift of God. The only significance of planter and waterer is that God accepts their labor and works through them; independently, they have no importance.
Look very quickly with me what this means practically, and I think the lesson applies equally in church, in politics, in business, and in the home.
First off, a lot can be accomplished by those who don’t care who gets the credit. We have the situation in the church of what I call “Altar Egos”, pastors who must take all the credit. Many of you must see the equivalent of it in the business world. Such altar egos seem starved for recognition. As Woody Allen quipped, such people must have been breast fed with falsies, so insecure they are, so hungry for recognition they are, so needing to be affirmed, to be center of the universe.
Barbara and I visited a large Presbyterian Church in a distant city some years ago. The church had over 3000 members with five pastors. The senior minister of the church was clearly in charge of everything. During worship, he led the entire liturgy, gave the announcements, the pastoral prayer, and the sermon. The only other staff member who had a word in the service was a woman who gave a brief children’s message. That very style told me everything about that pastor and that church I needed to know. Had I been church shopping that morning, I would have never returned. For my philosophy of leadership is that it’s extremely important to give staff public recognition, to give them every opportunity to make use of the gifts they have. In every church there needs to be a competent staff all of whom have a vit play in building up the church.
I get as much satisfaction in seeing one of our staff succeed in something as I might had I done it myself. Someone in Portland, commenting on something our associate pastor did which was a stunning success, said to me, “Yea, but really, you had the good sense to hire her,” implying that the credit of what she had done finally rebounded to me.”
I replied, “It’s true, I was instrumental in hiring her, but honestly, I’m happy when she is affirmed and when our church is affirmed. That means more than anything else to me.”
Do you remember Peter Falk deceptively bumbling detective, Lt. Colombo. A few years ago, the t.v. program “Colombo” won an Emmy award for best t.v. series. Peter Falk stood up to make the acceptance speech. He said, “It takes a lot of people to produce a winning television series. Producers, directors, stage hands, writers. But when the show wins an Emmy, the star gets all the credit. This is a very sensible system, and I wouldn’t want anyone to change it.”
Well, we all have the star system instincts. But blessed is the organization that has leaders who are secure enough and mature enough to share the glory, who know that the building up of any organization is a team effort. A lot of good can be done in any organization when no one cares who gets the credit.
And the second truth which grows out of Paul’s experience in Corinth is is a corollary of the first. We are not nearly as important as we think. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. I was in Corinth for a while, Apollos took over, but God is the one who responsible for the harvest.
Senior pastors have many personality quirks, but all of us share one thing in common: we need to be in control. I never realized it so fully as when I resigned in Lake Forest. I had about six weeks left from the time I resigned until my last Sunday. After 8 years on the job, everyone was used to checking with me before anything of significance happened in the church.
I felt my last responsibility to the church was to help the leadership prepare for the interim between my leaving and the calling of a new permanent pastor. So I made suggestions of what would work and what wouldn’t. The same people who listened to my advice and counsel a month before totally ignored me. It was maddening. It was frustrating. It was infuriating. I was trying to save the church from some terrible errors. Nobody listened. I realized once again how much I needed to be in control, and how hard it was for me to see something I loved take a wrong tack.
I saw a cute bumper sticker: “Death is God’s way of saying ‘You’re not indispensable’.” And yet some of us think we are. We think the company can’t do without us, and we slave for the company until that day there’s a reorganization, and we’re out on the streets. We think that our children can’t survive without our guidance and advice, and are crushed when they reject our overtures.
Martin Marty speaks of parenting in his little book on Friendship.
“Parents who make exhausting demands for the affection of their children have not learned that a family is not exclusive or permanent. A couple comes on stage; they are to reveal the family as an art form. It is not an art like architecture or painting, finished and there for ages. Their art is like the ballet, to be danced when the curtain goes up and the stage lights on. Soon the footlights will dim, the house lights will go up, the curtain will fall. The dance is over and the dancers move on, with memories, snapshots, and other stages ahead. Parents who do not learn ow to let go are doing a disservice to family relations. But if parents and children are friends, they will have been learning how to bid good-byes.”
It’s a liberating thought really, when you think about it, that you’re not as needed as you think you are–that when you submit your resignation as Managing Director of the Universe, the sun still comes up in the morning, the stars still move in their courses, and God still cares about everything you care about. You don’t have to get as uptight over things, you can relax a little more, and what God wants accomplished, God will find some avenue through which to do it.
And now one last thought, and this is a thrilling thought to me. When we faithfully plant and faithfully water our little garden in some corner of God’s kingdom, God promises to give the growth. Maybe it’s not growth according to our time-table. Maybe it’s not the kind of plants we had in mind. But when we are faithful on our end, God is faithful on God’s end.
And as I said, that’s a thrilling–and comforting thought to me. For surely you’ve had days like I’ve had when I’ve said, “Where is this all leading. I’ve invested myself in this church, with these people, and nothing is happening.” In the soul’s dark night, and the heart’s deep winter, I get discouraged, and I ask myself, “Why didn’t I choose some other vocation, some other field.” And at times like this we need to be reminded that the final outcome is not in our hands. We must work as if everything depended on us, but we must pray as if everything depended upon God.
What Paul is saying that when we totally dedicate ourselves to God’s kingdom, God will use us for a greater glory and greater purpose than we can even imagine. But what’s so hard for all of us is that we may not see, even in our life time, the results of our efforts. And that’s very tough for us, immersed in a bottom line oriented society.
A final story. When George Smith was a little boy, he was filled with a burning desire to be a missionary to Africa. For long years he sacrificed and studied and prepared. High school. College. Seminary. Language courses. Finally, he was sent out by the MOravian Church. But he was in Africa only a few months when the government changed hands, and he was expelled. He left behind only one covert, an old woman. He came back home, contracted tuberculosis, and soon died, literally dying on his knees praying for Africa, praying for the people he had come to love.
Think of it. All his life focused upon a dream, a life time of preparing…then he went there, spent a few months, returned home a young man, and died, feeling he was a failure.
But one hundred years later that mission of one old woman who had been converted by George Smith had grown and grown and grown to a community of 13,000 African Christians.
I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.