Rev. Kevin M. Pleas

Ephesians 4:1-6

September 9, 2007

I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I've been watching episodes of a BBC series recently called "Planet Earth." This is not your usual nature series. The photography is extraordinary. The places they go are amazing. I'm very impressed, especially because the relationship we have with the earth is a matter of such great concern these days. I've said before I believe we have to love the planet if we're ever going to be serious about saving it. The best way to learn to love it is to actually get out there as often as possible. But when we find ourselves in "couch potato" mode, a series like Planet Earth is the next best thing.

Something that has always fascinated me about nature is its incredible diversity and creativity. From the darkest caves to the driest deserts, the mouths of active volcanoes to ice-locked Antarctica, there is life everywhere in the most unimaginable profusion of forms. Every little environmental niche has its own plants and animals that have evolved to fit its specific conditions, and to fit them exquisitely: eyes that see in the dark, necks that reach around corners, animals that imitate plants and plants that imitate animals. The more I know about nature, the more awe inspiring it becomes.

And that includes human nature. People are also incredibly diverse and creative. We too, fill every niche we can conceive of, not only in the physical world, but also socially, philosophically, artistically, and of course, spiritually. Think about how many different spiritualities there are out there. Think about all the many religions, and all the sub-divisions within religions, all the people who think of themselves as "spiritual but not religious." Did you know that within Christianity alone there are some 3000 separately identifiable denominations? Really. There's a reference book called "The Handbook of Christian Denominations," which gives a thumbnail sketch of all the various branches on the Christian tree and there are a lot more than most people realize.

Among all these denominations, the overwhelming majority are made up of people who believe they have found the one and only right path to God. But that kind of thinking has always bothered me. Do you believe there is only one way to God? From my perspective, the question itself is a little bizarre. It's like asking, which is the right species of bird? There is no right species of bird. Different birds fit different niches. In much the same way, Christianity is not a "one niche fits all" religion.

There are people though, who really do think that's a bad thing. Every once in awhile I hear someone say that Jesus would be appalled if he knew about all the separations and divisions within his church, all the competing theologies, creeds and dogmas; the different denominations and dioceses. In support of this, they point to Paul where he says there is only, "One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all." Or perhaps when he says "I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose."

All that seems pretty clear doesn't it, until you realize that Paul thought the second coming of Christ would take place before the end of his own life. Though Paul did his best to spread the new faith in a "consistent" way around the whole Roman Empire, I can't believe he ever imagined what the church would become. There is, I believe, "one Lord, one faith, one baptism," but there are a multitude of ways in which the Lord is worshipped, the faith is practiced and baptism is understood." And I want to go on record saying that I for one think that's a good thing. I like the idea of a church in which there is room for different ideas, practices and opinions.

For the last however many years though, people have been proclaiming far and wide that our particular mainline niche within the Christian faith is dying. There's certainly some evidence for that. Undeniably, the number of members and churches within all the mainline denominations has been in a slide for more than fifty years. And during that time, all kinds of studies have given us all kinds of explanations for the declines. Some say we're not focused enough on church growth; others that we became too much like any other social service agency. One currently popular theory is that it's all demographic, that the birth-rate for mainline people is too low. I guess you all need to get busy and make some more babies. Of course, among evangelical churches it's taken for granted that we're going downhill because we have lost the true faith. Whatever the reasons may be though, everyone seems to agree that our future prospects are dim.

But what if that's simply not true. You know how conventional wisdom works. People begin saying something, other people pick it up, it hits the media, suddenly it seems to be everywhere. People begin looking for evidence to back up what they already believe, and ignore whatever doesn't fit the theory. You say it loud enough and long enough, and eventually people begin to believe that it must be true. It becomes "conventional wisdom." And that's where we are with our church. Everybody knows that mainline churches are dying. How do they know that? Well, because everybody says so. But what if it's simply not true?

There's a wonderful old story about the legendary figure, Mullah Nasruddin, whose escapades are well loved throughout the middle east. On a particular day….

Nasruddin was in a philosophical frame of mind: "Life and death - who can say what they are?" His wife, who was busy in the kitchen, overheard him and said, "You men are all alike - quite unpractical. Anyone can tell that when a man's extremities are rigid and cold, he is dead."

Nasruddin was impressed by his wife's practical wisdom. Once when he was out in the winter snow, he felt his hands and feet go numb. "I must be dead," he thought. Then came a further thought: "What am I doing walking around if I am dead? I should be lying down like a normal corpse." Which is just what he did.

An hour later, a group of travelers, finding him by the roadside, began to argue whether he was alive or dead. Nasruddin yearned to cry out, "You fools, can't you see my extremities are cold and rigid?" But he knew better than to say that, for corpses do not talk.

The travelers finally concluded he was dead, and hoisted the corpse onto their shoulders with a view to carrying it to the cemetery for burial. They hadn't gone far when they came to a forking of the ways. A fresh dispute arose among them as to which road led to the cemetery. Nasruddin put up with this for as long as he could. Then he sat up and said, "Excuse me, gentlemen, but the road that leads to the cemetery is the one to your left. I know that corpses do not speak, but I have broken this rule this once and I assure you it will not happen again."

- From Anthony de Mello: The Song of the Bird

You know what I think? I think people have been saying that mainline churches like ours are dying for so long that we have just about decided we might as well lay down and act like a corpse. And if we do that, ultimately we will prove them right.

My friends, I do not believe we are dying. But I do believe that, if we're not very careful, we can easily talk ourselves into believing we are. And that, honestly, why I'm so excited about the journey we're embarking on this morning. "Christianity For the Rest of Us" is a wonderful and encouraging look at a collection of mainline churches who refuse to believe they are dying. It is an engaging conversation about vitality in some of our mainline congregations and what they do to nurture that vitality. How long has it been since we've heard "mainline churches" and "vitality" in the same sentence?

Diana Butler Bass, the author of the book, begins by talking about how we got where we are. She speaks of the "Old Village Church" in which she grew up, and how it has vanished; how the community around that church has changed so dramatically since her youth that it can no longer support the church she once knew. There is no longer a cohesive community of faith in the village where she grew up. That's true of a lot of places around the country isn't it. The last few decades have seen unprecedented changes taking place around the world. The pace of those changes has been so fast and furious that it has swept away many of the values and assumptions we once depended on.

All of which means we can't take our future for granted. We can't assume that our own church here in the "village" of Camden will simply continue to go along and get along. If we are going to be part of a vital and healthy congregation, we are the ones who will have to make that happen. There isn't anyone else.

So what do we do? Well first of all, we begin by deepening our understanding of who we are. That, you may recall, is what last year's whole series on Progressive Christianity was all about. We need to have a clear sense of what it means to be us; to be a congregation of Christian people in this place. And what did we learn? Well, some of what we learned was that we are a diverse collection of people. We respect differences of opinion and lifestyle. We care about our faith but don't tend to be literal or dogmatic about it, and heaven forbid we would ever shove it down anyone else's throat. We see much of how we act out our faith in terms of mission and outreach, and we have a wonderful reputation of generosity and openness in the larger community. That's all terrific, and its important to know. Knowing who we are is a critical part of becoming a vital church.

Having gone through some of that clarification though, where we're at today is wondering, "What do we do next?" What I hope you will understand, is that this question is the driving force behind asking you to read and talk about "Christianity for the Rest of Us." When people think of church vitality these days, what usually comes to mind are evangelical mega-churches. I don't know about you, but I don't tend to think that's something we're ever going to be. Nonetheless, there is absolutely no reason why we can't be a vital and thriving church in this community, both now and on into the future. What we're looking for, what I'm looking for, is what Diana Bass calls, "The New Village Church;" a congregation of people vitally involved in their faith; a church that nurtures spiritual community for all ages; a church that gives all of us a place to reflect on the world's changes and put them into a manageable and meaningful perspective; a church that is and will continue to be an effective force for sanity and compassion in our community and around the world.

If all this sounds like the church we already are, it is, but with one very significant exception: Vitality. We can't simply do what we've always done because we've always done it. From time to time, we need to reawaken our awareness of why we do what we do. We need to reconsider whether there aren't ways to do what we do with more energy and enthusiasm, and whether there might not be some new things for us to do. We need to open our doors and windows to vitality. We're asking you to read Bass's book so that all of us, individually and as a community together, can discover whether there is something in our faith about which it is possible to get excited.

There are some who would have you believe that our mainline niche in the church is dead or dying. Don't you believe it! This church is just as dead or alive as we are. We are the church. The church is not the building. It's not something outside of us that is going to live or die while we sit watching from a safe distance. The church is us, you and me. As long as our faith lives, the church lives. If we are practicing our faith in vital and enthusiastic ways, regardless of how young or old we may be, we needn't worry about the future. There will always be those who believe what we believe and who both want and need the vital community of faith we are at our best.

Amen.