Mystic Congregational Church, UCC

Mystic, Connecticut

Sermon from October 30, 2005

“Discipleship 201”

Rev. Thomas Ratmeyer

Scriptures:

1 Thessalonians 2:9-20

Matthew 23:1-12

Today is the installation of four new deacons.  My message is, in part, directed at them but this is not to think the others could lean back, for the responsibilities and rewards of Christian discipleship belong to us all, no matter in what capacity we serve and in what ministry we participate.

The texts for today are rich and diverse.  Two are scripture:  Matthew’s Gospel and Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians. The third text is scripture as it has become manifest in history for, today, we celebrate Reformation Day.

Each of these texts has a rather high calling for us.  First I was going to call it an “invitation” but then I decided that that was far to timid.  It is, indeed, a calling to which we have been called—one that stretches across the entire span of our life which, of course, is good news and bad news.   The bad news is that we’ll never be done with this calling of faith.  There is no retirement in a life of faith.  The good news is that we have our whole lives to get it right.

Matthew calls us to a life of service.

Paul calls us to a life with integrity.

The reformation calls us to a life that is bound to be free.

In Matthew’s Gospel, we are called to a life of service.  Jesus affirms the teachings and the teachers of the Hebrew Scriptures.  Yet he sets a standard for religious leaders that reaches beyond the teaching and the knowledge to the way we live out our faith in our lives.  He criticizes religious leadership that looks for the elevated position and the titles of honor, and whose prayers are a bit too public in their display of piety.

What makes the spiritual leaders of religious communities stand out is their service.  Appropriately, to be a deacon in the congregational church is not so much about glory—that may come in the afterlife—but it is about getting up early on Sunday morning and serving long hours.  Worship wouldn’t happen without you deacons, and pastors would be even less composed and organized and even less in control than they appear to be right now.

As deacons, you have taken on a calling that reaches further into your identity than many jobs.  It becomes a part of who you are.  When we say the familiar “Once a deacon, always a deacon” to someone who is not on the board of deacons anymore, it sounds like a humorous attempt to guilt you into volunteering for a job.  But it is really the affirmation that the gift of the Holy Spirit that you have received at the outset of your service has changed who you are for the rest of your life.  It has been especially meaningful to see former deacons come up to lay hands on those to be installed.

Another note:  the call for humility in Matthew’s Gospel goes only so far.  You may not sit on seats with extra-soft cushions as deacons of the church, but you need to be identifiable as the spiritual leaders of the church.  People will come to you with questions, with concerns, and with respect.  Humility does not mean to go into hiding.  It means to be visible as the faithful and committed servants to God that you are, and it means to be authentic—with your own beliefs, your own questions, your own convictions and doubts.  Be yourself and allow the others to be themselves, and you will have given a great witness to the love and grace of our God.

Now Paul.  Paul calls us to a life of integrity.  He writes to the faithful: “¹¹As you know, we dealt with each one of you like a father with his children, ¹²urging and encouraging you and pleading that you lead a life  worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.”

If the process of becoming deacons hasn’t intimidated you up to this point, then maybe here is your chance.  Living a life worthy of God.  What does that possibly mean?  Here is how I begin thinking about that notion—it is dear to my heart and, therefore, I sometimes struggle as to how to put it into words.

A life worthy of God begins with the notion that we allow God to be there in all that we do.

If you are joyful and glad and excited and thrilled and ecstatic and delirious with happiness, allow God to be there with you.  Be aware that God is there with you, and give thanks.

If you are down and dark and find it hard even to acknowledge the world around you, let alone participate in it, allow God to be there in all of God’s patience.

If you are angry and mad, allow God to be there for you and the person or the people you are angry about, in all of God’s grace.

If you try and fail, allow God to be there in God’s forgiveness.

And if you sin—we dance around that word a bit when we merely talk about it, but when you do it, you usually know what you are doing—allow God to be there and to call you into accountability.

A life worthy of God begins with the belief that God is there with you:  not so much that big brother is watching you as the big brother is loving you.

The reformation finally calls us to a life that is bound to be free.  When Martin Luther was a boy, his father used to whip him into shape, with a vengeance, for even the slightest discretion, and for anything that the father perceived as a discretion, and simply because it would always serve as a preventative measure, a preemptive strike, so to speak.  His father beat Martin Luther to the point that his behind was bleeding.  Such was Martin’s relationship with his Dad, and such was Martin’s image of his God—a God who beats you until you bleed.  This was Martin Luther’s life-and-death struggle with his faith:  If I can’t find favor in the eyes of my father, how can I find favor in the eyes of God, a God so much superior than to human being? 

What he found, after years of agony, is that God is a God of grace, not a God of guilt, and the grace is just that, a gracious gift, one that we don’t earn.  He found, as incredible as that may seem, freedom from fear.

The reformation began in Martin Luther as a liberation from an abusive, violent “God-father” to the realization that Jesus Christ died and was resurrected so that we could live in freedom from fear:  not in hiding from the next beating but in gradual awareness that we can be ourselves, and more, we can be everything that God has created us to be.  That is the nature of the freedom of faith, that we can be what God calls us to be.

It is inherent in the reformation that the challenge continues—in the church and in society.  The church is always in the need of reformation.  That is one of the core principles of Protestantism that had its beginning in Martin Luther.

As deacons, you have the special responsibility to seek change where change is needed, to seek reform where reform is needed.  Is there an area in the life of the church where God’s grace is not visible?  Have we not made God’s love known in every way we could?  Have we turned people away, because we have not dared to recognize who God has called them to be? 

The perpetual need for reformation extends to society at large.  Among the news this week, and there was plenty of news, was word of the passing of Rosa Parks, and that she is lying in state in the Rotunda of the U.S. Capitol today and tomorrow as the first woman to be honored in this way.  Her simple act of freedom, a freedom that came from a place other than society, was to impact race relations in this society for all times.

In binding ourselves to the reality and presence and grace of God, we encounter the ultimate freedom to be ourselves.  As deacons (disciples), you are not called to be someone other than you are, more polished, or more wise, or more anything.  You are liberated to be true to yourselves in the assurance of the grace of God, and with the help of the Holy Spirit.

You are empowered.  Praise be to God.

Amen.