Sunday, January 27, 2013

This Week's Sermon: "A Time to Tear, A Time to Sew"

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

There’s a season for everything and a time for every matter under the heavens: 2 a time for giving birth and a time for dying, a time for planting and a time for uprooting what was planted, 3 a time for killing and a time for healing, a time for tearing down and a time for building up, 4 a time for crying and a time for laughing, a time for mourning and a time for dancing, 5 a time for throwing stones and a time for gathering stones, a time for embracing and a time for avoiding embraces, 6 a time for searching and a time for losing, a time for keeping and a time for throwing away, 7 a time for tearing and a time for repairing, a time for keeping silent and a time for speaking, 8 a time for loving and a time for hating, a time for war and a time for peace. (CEB)



“A Time to Tear, A Time to Sew,” Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

A Time to Be Church: Ecclesiastes and Envisioning Our Promising Future, Week Three

The way the news article put it, they thought it would be the worst place to have a church.  People wondered if this particular parish in Manhattan’s Times Square could even survive its surroundings. 

Because this was not the Times Square of today, but of 35 years ago, and then, as NBC bluntly put it, “Times Square was ripe with drugs, pornography, and prostitution.”

But the priest who took over Saint Malachy’s in 1976, rather than proposing to shutter its doors, reached out to the community, to the business owners, to the theaters, and yes, to the owners of the pornography stores.

And the church lives to this day.  Not because, I truly feel, of any miraculous act of God, but because a place with drugs and sex workers…well, isn’t that the best place to put a church?  If we were to actually follow Jesus’ model and completely go for broke, wouldn’t the church plant its parishes where they are needed most, rather than wherever the money happens to be?

It is a metamorphosis that speaks to our own story as a church as well.

This is the final installment of a relatively brief sermon series for us to begin 2013.  This series is only three weeks long, which I think is about as short as a sermon series can be and still be called a series—otherwise, it would just be a two-volume set, right?  But we’re going to give the trilogy look a try for the rest of January as we press forward with a new year of being church together.  And the purpose of this series is to take a very famous and well-loved poem—the “To everything there is a season” stanza in the third chapter of the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes—and in it see where we are headed as a church.  A lot has changed in this past year and a half since I had the great blessing of being called by you to be your pastor, and so just like when I first arrived here by offering the “Ashes to Sunlight” sermon series, I want to touch base with all of you once more as we look at what possibilities there are for us as a church in the increasingly rapidly changing cultural and religious landscape that is the Pacific Northwest.  The challenge is, just as the author of Ecclesiastes often looks back, we must, by nature of where we are, look forwards!

I have to admit that I was surprised when I moved here at a number of the concerns facing the Longview-Kelso area.  I arrived right in the midst of a protracted labor dispute between the ports and the longshoremens’ union.  I would see meth cooks riding around on bicycles with opaque water bottles that housed their ingredients, as the friction and motion from the bike mixed them together.  And I have seen what happens when a high birth rate combines with high unemployment.  The number of impoverished children we have in our community is obscene.

I don’t say all of this to knock on Longview—after all, it has become my home as well, and I love it here.  I say all of this because denial is much more than simply a river in Egypt, and our struggles as a parish do, I think, mirror the struggles of our hometown as a community.  In both cases, we worry that our best days are behind us—those of you who have been here long enough remember this church’s heyday in the days of Jim Whitaker, but you also remember the days before the mills began huge amounts of layoffs.

And so we hurt, just like the town around us.

But you’ve got to be kidding if you don’t think this wasn’t also the case for Jesus, or even for Solomon, the writer of Ecclesiastes.  Upon Solomon’s death, Israel immediately began a decline in the starkest possible sense—there was a revolt, and Israel was divided into two between Solomon’s son Rehoboam and the chief overseer of the crown’s forced laborers (its slaves, basically), Jeroboam.  A prophet even took a piece of fabric meant to represent Israel and tears it up into twelve pieces to represent the twelve tribes, and he hands ten of those swatches over to Jeroboam.

No wonder, then, that Solomon, in all of his wisdom and foresight, would want to include a line about there being a time to tear and a time to sew in his poem here.  That time to tear was almost upon his own kingdom!  And, in many ways in Israel and the Middle East today, we’re still working on the sewing together part.

But here’s the insult to injury, the final kick in the ribs—the reason people gave Rehoboam for their revolt was because he had promised to redouble the “yoke of Solomon” in the form of heavy taxes and heavy punishments.  But the man leading the revolt against this “yoke” was the man who had helped implement it as Solomon’s chief slave driver—Jeroboam!  It would be like a politician, after winning their election by savagely eviscerating every possible thing about their opponent’s private life, suddenly pushing for cleaner campaigning rules!

It isn’t a radical metamorphosis.  It is a tearing up of a kingdom between two villains—there are no good guys in this story.  And so we might forgive Solomon’s own jadedness thoroughout Ecclesiastes—if these are the people surrounded himself with, I might well become a cynic, too.

But as I’ve returned to each time in the past two weeks, this poem also proves that such cynicism does not—and cannot—define Solomon.

There is a time for every work under heaven, he writes—not just the stuff he likes to do, not just the stuff he knows will happen, but for everything, there is a time.

Including a time to change.  In life, in the world, in the church…there is a time to close your eyes, gather your courage, and take that leap of faith into something brand new, that leap of faith that mandates that your feet leave the ground.

I’m a Kansas City Royals fan, born and raised.  I’m very patriotic about my hometown in that way.  And to be  completely honest, I think our current general manager is terrible at his job.  I’m talking as bad as Bill Bavasi, all you Mariner’s fans. 

But he did say something about a trade gone awry that actually has stuck with me for a number of years.  He said, “If we aren’t making any mistakes, then we probably aren’t trying very hard.”

In my time here thus far as your pastor, we have tried a few things together that haven’t quite worked out, like the Sunday evening ACTS prayer service and the plan to supplement the band with a choir of fire-breathing platypuses.

And that’s part and parcel of being the church together—sometimes, the spaghetti won’t stick to the wall.  Which means that there is a time tear those things down and to build something new back up.

After all, 35 years ago, people said a church couldn’t survive in the Times Square center of Manhattan.  And guess what?  People say the same thing about a church in the center of a town—that’s us!  People say that all the growth happens in the suburbs and the exurbs as metropolitan areas geographically expand into more and more land.  People say that churches in the center of towns are finished, because the model of folks coming into town for church no longer applies.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.  Trust me when I say that if we offer a church life that actually speaks to people where they’re at, rather than where we think they should be, and if we create the kind of atmosphere where people feel safe enough not only to entertain their faith but their deepest doubts and fears about it and be guided rather than scolded, then we’re doing something right.

There is no one-size-fits-all vision for church growth.  But here, we’ve taken our own steps towards growth.  And those steps haven’t involved installing a light show, or putting Lori on a drum kit with a kick drum, high hat, and snares, and we haven’t yet installed a mechanical platform that allows me to ascend into the sanctuary on a cloud of dry ice like in Iron Chef.  Believe it or not, there are other ways of evangelizing and growing that don’t involve all the bells and whistles.

Because, in the end, it’s the message that matters most.  It’s why Jesus could get away with coming to Earth when He did, far from the era of instant news and smartphone technology and social media.  In the end, no matter how you package it, the Gospel is the Gospel.

In other words, while it matters how you package it, it matters far more how you live it.

And that, too, is something that Solomon allows us time for.  For there is a time to build up, there is a time to love, there is a time for peace, for seeking, for keeping, for embracing, and healing, and speaking out.

And I know that there is a time to be the church.  Because all of those things are us being the church.

That’s our time.  That’s our calling.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Rev. Eric Atcheson
Longview, Washington
January 27, 2013

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