Romans 8:12-17

So then, brothers and sisters, we are obligated, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh— for if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if we in fact suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

Sermon Text

We worship a God of liberation. Every act of God is a act that brings freedom to the soul, freedom from the captivity of Sin and Death, and freedom for the joyful obedience that defines a life of faith. Christ described our entry into this new reality as a “new birth,” a transformation of who we are into who we can be. The New Birth is rarely given those exact terms, Christ uses it when he speaks to Nicodemus and scarcely elsewhere, yet the concept is discussed in a few different terms throughout scripture. For Paul, the author or Romans whom we read from this morning, the concept of New Birth is described in terms of our “adoption,” into Christ’s family.

For Paul the transformation that comes in the life of a Christian begins with our receiving the Holy Spirit and that reception is the moment of our “adoption,” or our “birth.” Here’s a question for those gathered here though… When is it that a person receives the Holy Spirit and is born again? What signs are there that this transformative process has begun?

Some people are likely to say “Baptism!” This moment where water is poured on the head or immersed around us, is a declaration of faith overseen by a minister of the Church, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” and in this sacrament we join the Church and are given a special dose of God’s grace… Yet this is not the moment of the New Birth. We baptize infants after all, and baptism as an infant does not guarantee a life of faith – although it is an important start to one.

Other people expect some outward and physical sign of the Spirit’s reception. For those who have had exposure to the Pentecostal movement they look for “glossolalia,” an outpouring of seemingly nonsensical speech. Others, again tied to holiness churches, may look for fits of dancing, or spontaneous singing, or shaking! All of these could be a sign of the Spirit, I will not deny that they could be, but unless more lasting signs remain with them, they are just for show.

The Spirit arrives on its own time and in its own terms and so there is no rubric we can write to define when exactly the Spirit will arrive or how exactly it will manifest. Some people will have the Spirit come to them before they are baptized with water, other people the moment the water touches them, and still others years and years after they have found themselves in the Church. There are, however, only three definite things that define someone who has experienced the New Birth, and I admit wholeheartedly that I am taking these categories from a sermon by John Wesley – he just said it best, and who am I to perfect on perfection?[1] The three things that define a person who is born again are the virtues of faith, hope, and love.

Faith is the thing that undergirds our entire lives. In Greek the word for “faith,” (πιστις,) means “to be convinced.” We are convinced that God is good and active and present in our life and from that convincement we go forward to let ever aspect of our life be colored by our understanding of who God is. Yet, faith is not just saying you believe in all the right things in all the right ways, it is a change in the deepest parts of our soul and a reworking of our minds. Faith changes our mindset and allows us to see that God follows through on God’s promises – that the grace that has transformed other people’s lives is for us too! We can be free and we will be free!

Free from what though? Well, from sin and death! The hardest call in the Christian life is to abandon sin and to chase after righteousness. Again, this is a place we try hard to come up with lists of specific actions that define what is sinful and what is good. While there are obvious candidates – murder is bad and feeding people is good – there is a better way to address this. When we grow in faith, we grow in all virtues alongside them. Sin are those things motivated by anger and fear, by greed and lust, by cruelty and apathy. We know that we are being transformed by God’s grace when we are no longer acting based on these instincts, but on the greater virtues of humanity – love, joy, peace, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. We do not need long rubrics of dos and do nots, we only need to know if we are acting on one instinct or the other.

The second sign of the New Birth is Hope. Hope is a hard thing to hold in our hearts. Emily Dickinson gives my favorite definition of Hope, “Hope” is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all…”[2] Hope has been described in similar terms throughout history, something that is frail and that is always in danger of being snuffed out – but that does, and must persist. Hope for the person of faith carries a more definite form – we are hopeful because we have faith, and that faith feeds the fires of Hope. To go back to Dickinson, we truly believe that Hope never stops singing in our hearts, and we get better and better at listening to its song in the midst of life’s troubles.

The final sign of the New Birth is love – an authentic outpouring of care for those around us. It shouldn’t surprise us that the crowning virtue of all virtues comes from our acceptance of the others. As we grow in faith and escape the cycle of our own selfish sin because of it, we naturally grow better at caring for others. As we grow in hope, we do not give into the cynical dismissals of our fellow human beings and instead reach out to them with more and more love in our hearts. This love should not just be doing things for people, but actually changing how we see each other. In his Sermon, “On a Catholic Spirit,” Wesley put it this way,

“Love me… with the love that is long-suffering and kind; that is patient, –if I am ignorant or out of the way, bearing and not increasing my burden; and is tender, soft, and compassionate still; that envieth not, if at any time it please God to prosper me in his work even more than thee. Love me with the love that is not provoked, either at my follies or infirmities; or even at my acting (if it should sometimes so appear to thee) not according to the will of God. Love me so as to think no evil of me; to put away all jealousy and evil-surmising. Love me with the love that covereth all things; that never reveals either my faults or infirmities, –that believeth all things; is always willing to think the best, to put the fairest construction on all my words and actions, –that hopeth all things; either that the thing related was never done; or not done with such circumstances as are related; or, at least, that it was done with a good-intention, or in a sudden stress of temptation.”[3]

Love is something that is above all and through all, it is something we cannot escape in any interaction we have with one another. Love should be more than just something we say or do, it must be something that transforms us in our deepest parts. I am someone for whom love comes easily, I do not need much reason to care for another human beings, and for that I am thankful. Yet, I am also someone for whom faith is a hard won reality, and so someone for whom hope can sometimes feel quite fleeting… What I hope we can understand is that none of these three fruits are always one giving birth to the other in a straight line, nor are they constant.

We have peaks and valleys in our faith and sometimes the difference between one and the other can be extreme. Our hope in life is that we are constantly closing the gap between our highest highs and our lowest lows, constantly moving upward toward something better. Yet, the reality is sometimes we are hit by something that can demolish everything we thought we knew about God and about life… In those times it is hard to build back without a lot of help.

Yet, we worship a God who never stops moving and is always willing to build us back up. You may find yourself today in a place where you feel like you’ve never really known faith, hope, and love like the Spirit brings, or you may feel like it has been a long time since the Spirit worked all of them in you. There is good news for all of us… The God who gives the Spirit of Adoption, the New Birth that transforms us, gives it freely and fully. If we have cast off that gift, let us receive it once again. Let us chase forward to the goal, and find ourselves transformed by the work of the Spirit. – Amen.

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[1] This sermon is an adaptation of John Wesley’s Sermon 18 – the Marks of the New Birth. Available at: https://www.resourceumc.org/en/content/sermon-18-the-marks-of-the-new-birth

[2] Emily Dickinson, “Hope is the Thing with Feathers” in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson. Ed. Tomas H. Johnson. (The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press: Cambridge, Massachucetts. 1951) Available at: https://poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314

[3] John Wesley. “Sermon 39 – On a Catholic Spirit” available at: https://www.resourceumc.org/en/content/sermon-39-catholic-spirit

The New Testament Lesson                                                      Acts 4:5-12

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Fellow Jews and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.

Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit, and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

Sermon Text

Pentecost is the sort of day that you can never run out of things to talk about. The Spirit shows up in a big way. Languages appear among God’s people and they are suddenly able to tell the story of Christ to people they’d never be able to reach before. We are not given any account of what the believers preached that day, only Peter’s explanation of why the miracle they are participating in is even possible. The words of Pentecost, the words made possible by the Holy Spirit, are ironically lost to time.

It seems that whatever was spoken was powerful enough to change hearts and minds all the same. The Testimony of the Gospel on that day was enough to light a fire in the hearts of the crowd such that, “daily,” people were joining the Church. Peter goes on, past where we stopped reading today, to give an overview of what the Gospel consists of. Christ came to live among us and showed his divinity in signs and wonders. Christ was then killed, something that did not stop God’s work through him, but that accomplished what God set out to do. Christ’s death was only a temporary state as he was soon raised from the dead and in that resurrection confirmed to be “Lord and Messiah.” We are called then to be baptized and repent in response to this show of God’s love. To be transformed and to find new life bursting within ourselves.

It is a very early presentation of the Gospel. It has no frills and does not try to do anything other than describe what had happened. Christ came to save us, Christ has saved us, and Christ will return to finalize that salvation at the end of all things. Until then, we have the Spirit to guide us, but not just to guide us, but to perfect us through repentance, and not just to perfect us, but to fill us with the means to share what God has done in our life. The whole existence of the Church is a testimony of God’s work. On Sinai, at the Cross, in the Resurrection, and in the continual pouring out of the Spirit. God is at work in all time and space.

I’m a historian at heart. My undergraduate work – the part that wasn’t chemistry – focused on historical theology. How do God’s people talk about God in different periods of history and what does that tell us? What have different eras revealed to us about God’s will and what are the universal truths that transcend the eras we find ourselves in? This attitude transfers over to every aspect of my life. I always want to know the, “Why,” of a text as much as I do what it says.

When I stand here in this Church, its history has decided a lot about what it is. Whether the foundation is Methodist Protestant or United Brethren, the roots of our theology go deeper than the sign on the front of the building. The local flavor always adds a twist to it too. The people that sit in the pews always affect more than anything else. Our stories, our legacy, they all change the trajectory of a church in ways larger forces never could. We are all wrapped up in the midst of rivers of time and culture, but we are steering the boat – that is always true.

What we do as a Church, every moment that we are working or teaching or proclaiming the word, is a testament to what God has done in our lives. In Greek the word for testimony is “Μαρτυριον (Marturion,) from which we get the word, “Martyr.” The idea was not just that you stand up and say something, but that every part of life became the story you told. To testify is to embody, proclaim, and live the life that we have received from Christ. Testimony as we know it, telling that story, is a part of the equation, but it cannot be the sum of the matter. We should be able to explain how we came to faith and what that faith has meant to us, but it should show in much more than just our words.

            With that being said, I would like to give you all my own testimony. Afterall, I should have hopefully demonstrated some fruits of the Spirit by now in other aspects of my life. However, the story of my faith itself, I’m not sure I’ve ever given to you all.

            I was born to two unmarried people, barely adults. I was not intended in any way shape or form. Yet, the two of them did their best for me, and had the support of my maternal family throughout my life. Eventually my parents split up, which was long overdue for both their sake and mine. My father would remarry, and I would be introduced, for the first time, to the Church. At First United Methodist Church of Berkeley Springs, my stepmother began the work of showing the Gospel to my unchurched self. It took time for the seeds to germinate, but by sixteen I was able to consider myself Christian and I was baptized just after my 15^th birthday. I had a religious experience  – seeing God appear to me and promise I would see God fully one day, just “Not yet.” I had the zealous faith of a new convert, but that was short lived.

            Despite feeling that God was leading me to ministry, I shut myself up. I finished school and went to college to be an engineer. That was too much like business… So, I tried to be a teacher… That didn’t feel quite right either… In my personal life, I had stagnated. I still was faithful, I was still doing my best to live out my faith, but I wasn’t growing in my faith either. Finally, a professor of mine told me to follow my initial feelings of call – I went after it, and before I knew it, I was enrolled in seminary.

            This is when my life would reach its lowest point. I was in a toxic relationship and horrifically depressed, I had not yet escaped one or treated the other. My faith suffered, my family relationships suffered, I became increasingly cruel and critical. The light threatened to be snuffed out within me. Finally, I had a moment of complete despair. While take Greek and learning about Methodist History, I had a realization. “I’m not a good Methodist and I am hardly a Christian.” Sure, I’m in Seminary and I go to chapel every week, but I was just following the motions. I finally broke down, I wasn’t able to sleep for weeks, I was constantly violently sick to my stomach. The crisis pushed me to do what I needed to… I finally found a therapist to sort out my mind and I recommitted myself to my faith, because something had to change or I would be dead within the year – one way or another.

            My life began to grow again. Christ was able to break through the walls I’d been putting up. My heart began to soften again, and my prayers became more regular and earnest. I escaped the relationship that had been feeding my worst habits and I began to repair what I could between me and my family and those friends I had not completely alienated. I worked hard and, with God pushing me forward, I began to resemble what I had long ago wished to be. I took on a Church and my longtime friend, Grace, and I started dating. Within a year we would be engaged, and within three months of being engaged we would be married. Ministry worked at my heart alongside the Spirit, and I became more and more what I wanted to be.

            Since then, mostly, I have been with you all. You’ve been present for my growth since then. To the observers around me throughout all this, maybe the story would not seem as dramatic – except to those who knew me best. Yet, I can tell you that even in my short life I have seen rises and falls in my faith. I am thankful to God that I had the breakdown I did in Seminary, because it saved my soul and my life. I stand before you, not as someone with an especially dramatic story of faith, but one that nonetheless has been a result only of what God has set up in my life. I am here today because God is good, because Christ forgives sins, and because through all that – redemption is possible.

            In the early days of the faith, the disciples did not have the fullness of doctrine and history that we do. Christ had just ascended to Heaven, there wasn’t time yet to formulate complicated ideas of faith or doctrine. All they had was their story, their scripture, and the Spirit – and wouldn’t you know it, that was more than enough. I hope that we can begin to see God at work within us, can tell our stories without hesitation, and can proclaim Christ in word, in deed, and in prayer upon, upon prayer. People of God, we the people of God are a testimony to God’s goodness. Tell that testimony and live that testimony well. – Amen.

The New Testament  Lesson                                          Acts 1:15-17, 21-26

In those days Peter stood up among the brothers and sisters (together the crowd numbered about one hundred twenty persons) and said, “Brothers and sisters, the scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit through David foretold concerning Judas, who became a guide for those who arrested Jesus, for he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.”

“So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection.” So they proposed two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also known as Justus, and Matthias. Then they prayed and said, “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.” And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was added to the eleven apostles.                  

Sermon Text

When I read the scripture that we have before us today, I am made to wonder. What would have happened if Judas had turned back to God? What would it look like for the murderer of all murderers to chase after God’s forgiveness? If God’s mercy truly is infinite then the option to return was there for Judas and yet, as our scripture tells us, “[he] went his own way.” The ministry of Judas ended, but the mission of the church was not going to end, it could not end.

When the disciples gathered after Christ’s ascension, they did so with the desire to fill the ranks of the disciples once again. They saw a need to keep twelve leaders in those early days, an echo of the twelve tribes that once defined God’s people. They found someone who had been with the Church from the beginning. Finally settling on Matthias as a replacement for Judas. The title of apostle was passed on, the authority of the twelve rested on him, and, for my part, I believe even Judas’s coin purse – the funds that were given to those in need – passed to rest in his hands. The mission of the Church goes on, no matter who is present to do it.

There was a sad reality that set in at General Conference last week. The realization that, because we had not gathered in eight years, many of the faces that were present at these meetings for decades were no longer there. Time had taken its toll: delegates, agency members, and church people from all lands and positions had left the General Conference to join that Holy Conference in glory. There were people who could not be visibly present with the people called Methodists, and yet… the mission of the Church goes on.

Church, as it appears in scripture as ἐκκλησία (ecclesia,) means “those who are called out.” Called out from the world as it is into the world as it could be. From slavery to Sin and Death into abundant lives defined by joyful obedience. Called out, to go forward, and to transform this world with the Spirit ahead of us and the Cross as our banner.

The Church cannot be separated from the work it does and so today I put forward the idea that Church is really a verb. Sure, those of you who grew up diagraming sentences will proudly tell me that we aren’t even dealing with an adverb when we look at “Church,” but trust me when I say, you cannot rightly call anything “Church,” unless it is doing the work of a Church. The Church is a place that transforms, that builds up, that sends out!  We are always active in the Church because… the mission of the Church goes on.

Amidst the many calls of spectators throughout General Conference was the hope that God would be with the people who were there. I believe God was. In the midst of deep troubles and conflicts, the Church was able to gather together and praise God, do the hard work of budgeting and legislating and we managed throughout it all to mostly behave ourselves. Mostly. While the work was being done in the sessions, there were people who went to keyboards and cameras to cast all manner of dispersions on the work of the Conference. God, however, was present in the room. For those who were willing to follow the Spirit, there was a wellspring that bubbled up from the deep parts of our souls, a wellspring for eternal life.

It is hard to describe unless you were there. I do not know how much you heard last week about Conference, but let me tell you what happened this year. For the first time in living memory, people were gathered together and laughing and singing and praying throughout the conference. For the first time in living memory, people were sharing their hopes for what God was going to do with the Church, not worrying about whether or not people were going to rip it to pieces. For the first time in a long time, the worries of the present age and the struggles we face as a Church in a world that is so deeply broken, all seemed to melt away. We were the people of God, gathered to chart a way forward for the work of God. We knew we had to do this work, because with or without us… The mission of the Church goes on.

During General Conference, Bishop L. Jonathan Holston gave an episcopal address that covered a great deal of the anxiety of the Church. In just a few years we have seen wars and rumors of wars, a global pandemic, insurrections, growing radicalism, and division upon division – within and without the body of Christ. In the midst of all that, the Church never ceased to work! Globally, churches worked to provide housing for refugees fleeing war, educated people in places where education once was impossible, fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and met people in the midst of tragedy with love and open arms. Local churches and global institutions worked hard to do the work of God, even in the midst of hardships that seemed impossible. Why? Because the mission of the Church goes on.

We also saw in this General Conference big changes to how the Denomination talks about human sexuality. We no longer, as Methodists, mandate one view on matters of same sex relationships. The General Conference voted to remove all language condemning it, leaving the Discipline as a neutral document that allows for every Christian, every minister, every Church, to live as their conscience dictates. Like Paul long ago speaking to Corinthians about differences in opinion, the United Methodist Church has embraced allowing latitude on non-essential matters. About 720 people gathered from the four corners of the Earth – conservative, progressive, African, Asian, European, and American – all voted with an average approval rating of over 90% for these changes. Because it is time to move on from fighting toward the work of the Gospel.

It is naïve to think this change does no hit people differently. Some see it as capitulation to culture or betrayal of tradition, while others see it as a letting go of centuries of prejudice and an opening up of God’s grace. I should be honest and say that from the moment the first set of restrictive rules were voted out, I wept for joy, to see the Church I have always loved embracing what it could truly be, a place where all people have a home.

Yet, beyond my view or anyone else’s – both extremes and all people in-between, believe what they do while using the same book to justify their idea – our shared Holy Scripture. All are led by the same Spirit – the Holy Spirit. All are saved by the same Lord – Jesus Christ. Somehow in the midst of these extreme differences in this matter and all others, God is not divided or mocked. We alone are the ones who cast separation after separation between ourselves.

The episcopal address, having reviewed the various challenges we have all seen and the work the Church has to do at all times and in all places, put a question to the body that rocked our souls. “When was the last time you led someone to Christ? When was the last time you made a witness with your words and your life that led someone into relationship to Christ? Friends, if we are not doing this, then we are not being the Church. That is God’s purpose.” John Wesley made a similar point referring specifically to ministers. “The roads of Hell,” Wesley said, “are paved with the skulls, of ministers such as these.” If we as the Church are not able to bring people into a place where they know Christ, then we have been left behind – because the mission of the Church goes on…

When is the last time we saw fruit? Can you think of an example of someone finding faith because of what you have done? I struggle to think of one myself, in my six years of Pastoral Ministry, in my twenty-eight years of life, I can think of plenty of people I have been a part of bringing closer to God. I can think of people of God I have helped revive faith within. Yet I struggle to see how God has used me to be the spark that lit the fire of faith where it had never been before. I imagine many of us are in similar places. Maybe we raised some faithful children, maybe we have encouraged our faithful friends, but what have we done to bring those outside the faith, into the faith? We can sing “Rescue the Perishing,” we can talk about God’s “Amazing Grace,” but have we done anything to bring anyone to know what it feels like to be saved, really and truly?

I preached recently about how distracted we as the Church have been – obsessed with culture wars and petty differences. What have we lost in the mean time? Biblical Literacy is at an all time low. Even in this room, we have work to do. If we talk about Mephibosheth and King Asa do we have any idea who we’re talking about? What about the difference between our Spiritual existence and our Physical one – as Paul describes life before and after Christ? Doctrine is in an even dimmer place. Do we know why we see God as a trinity? Why we proclaim a God who gives us a choice to be saved? Why we believe that grace overcomes all evil and is found uniquely in the waters of baptism and the elements of the eucharist?

Our ministries have lost depth. We can feed and we can clothe, but what are we doing to embrace and to lift up? Do we know the names of the people who come through our doors? What about the people who walk up and down our street? Can we name our neighbors, and do we pray for their needs? For their hearts? For their souls? Are we comfortable telling people about Christ or are we only doing our best to trick them into sitting down on a Sunday, hoping that will do the trick? We are missing something vital in our work, the Spirit is here among us, but we must not be listening, because we are not doing the work of the Church in the irreplaceable way we ought to. We sit and wonder why the Church does not grow, but I sometimes think our desire to see it grow has a lot less to do with Christ and a lot more to do with our own pride.

We want the pews full, we want the choir loud, and we want the people singing all the songs we know and love. We want this for our own edification – for the pride of having a large and vibrant church. I would rather us seek this for the good of those we bring in and for the Kingdom which we are growing. If we had been focusing on that sort of ministry, that sort of development of self, that sort of willingness to do what God was calling us to… What wonders might we have achieved? It would have paid off a lot more than what we have been doing.

The United Methodist Church was founded in 1968 with the merger of the Evangelical United Brethren and the Methodist Church. This merger was a long time coming, after all the only reason that the Brethren was separate was because they originally spoke German. The theology and the Discipline the two shared was nearly identical. This family reunion was celebrated as a new beginning for our ministries. Yet, we immediately began to fight with one another. 1972 we added a clause to our Social Principles to make clear that while we believed all people deserved rights, “Homosexuality is incompatible with Christian Teaching.” In the 80s, as the AIDs Crisis raged – rather than extending more love and care – we doubled down. We added line after line to the discipline to make something clear – God may love gays, but the UMC did not.

This year we got rid of that language. We have not mandated any changes beyond a willingness to acknowledge that there are gay Christians and straight and that both are valid. Pastors do not have to marry anyone they do not want to, and if a Church really does not want a gay minister or to host gay weddings, then they are allowed that decision just like they always have been. In the next few years, plenty of churches will invest plenty of time into shutting up their doors in the face of a new era of the Church. Trustees will write building contracts to keep weddings out, ministers may be traded around to find ones that the congregation completely agrees with, and in the meantime the world will still keep spinning its old broken routines. We will hide ourselves away as good and holy Christians, we will create fortresses to keep the past locked up in our walls, and we will slowly atrophy and fade in the meantime. Because while we shut our eyes and clench our fists and lock our doors… The mission of the Church goes on.

In a moment we are going to take bread and juice in hand. We will drink God’s grace. The hands that took a cup before you did are the hands of people with different views. They may be the hands of people of another sexuality than you. They may be the hands of someone who will vote differently than you. They may be the hands of anyone and they will receive the same grace you do. Why? Because the hands that take the bread and give the cup are not important… The hands that matter are the ones that bore scars to cleanse us of our sins, the hands that hung on a cross and gave us hope for a resurrection.

I could go on and on, my mind is ablaze with how we might do more and better, but that is not the energy we should leave this moment on. Our scripture shows the Church dealing with replacing one of the most central positions it held, one of the twelve disciples. They did so following a period of worry, of fear, but that nonetheless ended with joy and resurrection. People of God, fear will be with us always, but God is greater than that fear. God is greater than our differences. God is greater than the squabbling we have taken part in over the past 52 years and beyond. God is greater than anything we can imagine, and God’s mission is marching forward toward the realization of God’s kingdom. Are we willing to take part in that? Or will we go on circling the same drain of conflicts, of hot takes, of controversy.

“When was the last time you brought someone to Christ?” Let that question motivate you more than any other, and you might find yourself taking steps toward that goal. We will be holier and kinder and more open and loving and Christ like, when our goal is demonstrating Christ’s love. I look at this room and I see the love that each of you holds. Let us work to perfect that love, let us put the past behind us, and let us charge forward – as Christians and as United Methodists – to do God’s will. – Amen.