Does God's Mission Have Us?

5 Easter, 19 May 2019, Grace Episcopal Church

It is not that God’s Church has a mission, but that God’s Mission has a church.

I wish I could put that statement out there and just let you all think that I came up with it. But, in fact, I didn’t. The Rev. Kirk Alan Kubicek of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Maryland made that statement, and you can find his sermon based on it on the Web at a site called “Sermons That Work.”

I think it is a great insight, and one particularly important to consider at times of transition in our lives and in the life of a church, like when beginning a new assignment or searching for a new rector. So hear it again:

It is not that God’s church has a mission, but that God’s mission has a church.

     

We church folks have a tendency to get such things reversed. We tend to talk about “the church’s mission” in and to the world.

And, yes, of course, it is in part just an easier way to talk about things. After all, the church is structured and organized to do certain things: to serve the spiritual needs of people, to spread the Gospel, to do various kinds of outreach, like disaster relief, soup kitchens, and so forth.

One could even argue that talking about these things as “the church’s mission” is a healthy way of taking responsibility and claiming ownership of the things we are called to do as the body of Jesus Christ in the world.

I would not deny or reject any of that. At the same time, it is also the case that the church has, throughout history, tended to get confused on this point. And when the church loses sight of its subordination to God’s Mission, when the church starts thinking it is pursuing its own mission, bad things tend to happen.

For one clear historical example, consider the Roman church’s shake-down of believers by putting a price on forgiveness. That was the practice known as the selling of indulgences, and it was the impetus and inspiration for the 95 theses Luther probably did not actually nail to a church door, but did present to his Bishop along with a letter calling for open debate on the matter, and thereby kicked off the Protestant Reformation.

But we needn’t go so deep into history to find examples of religious institutions acting arrogantly, and taking over the role of God in seeking to make the world over in their own limited, exclusionary image. In recent years, we have seen a seemingly endless stream of religious fanaticism, Muslim and Christian especially, blowing up, gunning down, burning worship spaces… from the Middle East to New Zealand to Pittsburgh to St. Landry Parish, Louisiana.

Those are extreme examples, so let’s bring the point closer to home. If indeed we agree that God’s mission has a church, in general, then it’s not a huge step to recognize that the same is true for all of the church’s constituent parts: God’s mission has an Episcopal Church, God’s mission has a St. Alban’s and a St. Thomas’ and a Grace Episcopal Church and School, and on and on.

How does it re-orient our thinking to say that Grace Episcopal does not have a mission, but that God’s mission has us? What would count as evidence?

What do people see when they look at us? God’s mission at work in this community? Or… people focused on, distracted by… preserving a beautiful edifice, balancing the budget, how tall the fountain should be, the leaky roof, who’s on the search committee, the one “right” way to do liturgy… and myriad other things.

It even seems to me there’s some struggle of late about who Grace Episcopal belongs to: the people who pledge? the ones who have been here the longest? a simple majority of members… or of who was at a particular meeting? the vestry? the Bishop?

Here’s my answer: If Grace doesn’t belong to God’s mission, it has no business taking up prime real estate on this corner in this neighborhood in this community.

Do we think WE have a mission in the world? Or do we understand, accept and practice our faith in ways that make perfectly clear that God’s mission in the world has us?

Here’s another way to pose the question: If God’s mission were illegal in Monroe, La., would there be enough evidence to convict Grace Episcopal?

And now, one more step, even closer to home. Consider this: It is not that Bette Kauffman has a mission, but that God’s mission has a Bette Kauffman.

I thought about standing up here and naming names, but.. you can put your own name in the sentence. How does that distill your thinking? How might it adjust priorities for each of us?

We have lots of practice and experience in seeking to carry out our own mission in the world. Indeed, that is the primary job, for each of us, of our own precious, fragile ego.

I am reminded of a lesson I learned many years ago from a more experienced leader of people. I had just come to Monroe to be an academic department head at what was then Northeast Louisiana University. A senior administrator was giving me some insights into the various personalities of the faculty I was about to become the head of. (And, BTW, being an academic department head is The Original “herding cats” kind of job!)

At some point, in speaking about a particularly difficult personality, he said this: When you’re handed a 2x6, don’t waste time wishing it was a 2x4 or a 4x4, even if that’s what you really need. Instead, figure out what you can do with a 2x6.

Thank goodness, God is The Master at figuring out what to do with a bunch of odd-sized pieces of lumber… because that’s what we are… and not only odd-sized but rigid and stiff-necked, just like lumber!

Brothers and sisters, I have invited us to a moment of profound humility. I have asked us to recognize that The Mission is God’s and that we are called–individually and as a church–to belong to God’s mission. I have invited us to consider that the biggest obstacle to our belonging fully to God’s mission is our investment in our own pet projects and opinions, and need to be right, and need for control.

And all that must die. We must relinquish our death grip on all that stuff of the ego… for God’s mission to truly HAVE US. Something always must die to make way for something new to be born. That’s the central story of our faith.

Let us be clear. Death and rebirth are never easy or pain free. But they are the way of the cross. They are the way of following Jesus.

The Gospel is always good news, and today’s Gospel lesson reminds us that love is the way—not only the way of life for us, the way of being church, but also the way others will know that we belong to God’s mission.

But the bit of good news I especially want to highlight this morning is the Revelation to John that was read as our Epistle lesson: See, the home of God is among mortals. What a glorious thought! Maybe a little terrifying, too, but… wow! This revelation is not only about some distant future, but about now, for the home of God is among us.

Then following that astonishing thought comes the line: And the one who is seated on the throne says, "See, I am making all things new." 

That’s the hope and the promise I claim for us this morning. "See, I am making all things new." 

Grace is still kind of in the painful, “feels like dying” part right now. But new life is coming and is already here. To paraphrase an old familiar song: New life is busting out all over. We are an Easter people.

And what do we do with that? Here’s how Br. David Vryhof of the Brothers of St. John the Evangelist puts it: 

God’s mission is to radically transform the world. Our task, then, is to discern how we can be a radically transforming community in the world, embodying God’s values and giving the world a glimpse of God’s…vision [for humankind].

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, AMEN.