anniversary — Andy James

a sermon on Mark 10:35-45
preached on October 18, 2015, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

It had been a long journey, but Jerusalem was finally in sight. Jesus and the disciples had wandered all around Galilee and even a little beyond, but now their destination was this great city that had not yet heard for itself the message that Jesus had come to share. On the way there, Jesus made it clear to them—again—what he was up to:

See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.

Everyone who followed him was amazed—and afraid. They had not signed up for this, after all—they had followed Jesus because he brought a fresh word to their stale world, not to witness an execution.

So it was no surprise that James and John came to Jesus with a strange request as they continued along the way after he had announced this difficult news to them yet again. They knew that their request was so unlikely to be granted that they asked for Jesus to say yes before they even said what it was, but they asked for it anyway! Even though he refused to grant their wish before hearing it, they did finally tell him what they had in mind: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your life, in your glory.”

James and John were reasonably afraid about all that would be ahead for them, and they were just looking for some comfort. After all, they had given three years of their lives to following this strange teacher around Galilee, setting aside their lives as fishermen and walking away from their families as they responded to Jesus’ strange call. They were afraid that they might have nothing more to show for all this than the responsibility of joining the procession of mourners at his funeral—or of finding themselves dead, too.

Jesus, though, was a bit concerned about James’ and John’s request. He wasn’t quite sure that they understood everything that this glorified position at his right and at his left would entail. He never criticized James and John for asking, but he was quite direct with them:

You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?

Somewhat amazingly, James and John said that they could do this, but Jesus still had another surprise for them in his response. While he promised that they would share the gift and challenge of sharing his cup and his baptism, that they would find some comfort from their fears as they joined him in some of what was ahead, Jesus made it clear that the status and honor that James and John desired were not things that he could offer them—“to sit at my right hand or at my left… is for those for whom it has been prepared.” Jesus could not offer comfort and hope through the promise of something better for the days ahead—instead, he could simply point them to the gift of walking with him at every step of the journey ahead. Of course, he may have also been a bit concerned about what the other disciples might have said had he agreed to James’ and John’s request, for they were not happy when they heard about it, either!

So Jesus addressed the situation head on with all of them. Status and power—and even the comforts of a future day and age—were not his point. He had not come to face up to the powers of sin and death so that just two of the people who had tagged along for his journey might keep pestering him from his right and his left for all eternity. He was not going to live the life he lived so that a few people could enjoy the benefits of power and privilege. He was not in this game to save a few people along the way but to transform the life of the whole world. While the rest of the world might be fixated on power and privilege and prestige, Jesus made it clear that his world was not:

Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.

The fear and uncertainty that they were feeling were not going to be resolved if they just had enough power to overcome it all—instead, Jesus made it clear that they had to approach the things ahead with a new and different perspective, to live together in new and different ways even as they faced the difficult realities of fear and uncertainty ahead.

Over the last 144 years of life together at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone, this congregation has explored many of these new and different ways. We have seen joyous possibilities and great rejoicing, and we have known the kind of fear and uncertainty that marked those days for James and John. In those early years, when we might look out the windows of this sanctuary and see cattle and farmland around us, we found a way to be servants in this community. In those years when these walls were bursting with children and adults, we found a way to be servants in this community. And in these more recent years when more than once we have looked around with uncertainty about what is ahead, we have found a way to be servants in this community.

So as we celebrate the 144th anniversary of the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone today, as we look back on what we once knew and wonder what our status and privilege will be in the days ahead, as we look around us at the challenges of finances, people, and resources, as we are tempted to look ahead of us with uncertainty and fear, Jesus challenges us to think differently about how we will live together in the days ahead. Our life together as the faithful people of God is not dependent upon regaining the size and stature we may have once known as a congregation. Our hope for the days ahead does not become real if only we can find a way to ignore our fears and uncertainties. Our way forward does not become real if we protect ourselves at the expense of others.

Instead, just as Jesus called James and John to explore a different path, we too are called to set aside our fears, our uncertainties, even our intent upon self-protection as we step out into the world in faithful service. This faithful service moves us into a different way of living together, for in service we come together as God’s people to love and serve in God’s world, setting aside any status that we might seek for ourselves as individuals or our church as a community as we seek instead to follow in Christ’s footsteps. We take a step in this direction as we shift our worship next Sunday to Bowne Park, gathering not to sing praise to God but to invite our community to action, sharing our time together with our community so that we all might work to “orange our neighborhood” and raise awareness of and bring an end to violence against women and girls. Our success in this venture will likely go unmeasured by the world’s standards, but we can trust that this act of service to our community will stand strong alongside so many others offered by our sisters and brothers in this place over the last 144 years to continue the transformation of our community and our world begun in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

After all, Jesus promises that even the challenges we might encounter along the way can strengthen us for this journey. The cup that he drank and the baptism that he was baptized with are not just stumbling blocks to glory but the gift of the sacraments that we share in this place that send us out to love and serve in the world. We share the cup of blessing that Jesus himself offers us in this place when we offer ourselves in service to others, and we know the baptism of new life that Jesus himself experienced when we share that call to new life with others. As we experience and share this cup and this baptism, we encounter the presence of the risen Christ among us and are given strength and hope for new and different life in the days ahead.

So amid this celebration of anniversaries that we share here today, may our eyes, ears, and hearts be opened to God’s call to serve in and beyond this congregation as we seek a new way of life together in this place and model that life for our weary world, waiting, watching, and working for all things to be made new in Jesus Christ our Lord. Lord, come quickly! Alleluia! Amen.

a sermon on 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
preached on October 19, 2014, in celebration of the 143rd anniversary of the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

There’s a wonderful picture of our congregation that greets everyone who visits our church website. We took it on the front steps of the church three years ago as part of our 140th anniversary celebration, and I love it for so many reasons. First off, everyone is smiling! We had just finished a festive worship service and were preparing to make our way to a wonderful banquet on a beautiful day, so everyone was having a good time. Second, there is incredible color throughout the picture. There is a vibrancy in the colors there that brings out so well the multicolored fabric that makes us who we are as a congregation. And third, I love that picture because it is so inclusive of our congregational family. It includes several people who are no longer a part of our worshiping community due to distance, age, or death. But on top of that, it includes some special guests, like the Moderator of the Presbytery of New York City at the time, members of my family, representatives of other congregations who worship in this space, and even one of our former pastors, who all came from far and wide to be a part of celebrating the life and work of this congregation. While they may not be worshiping with us every Sunday, they are nonetheless an important part of our identity and witness as a congregation as we are connected to one another and those beyond.

Our scripture reading this morning also speaks beautifully of identity and witness, as we hear the apostle Paul giving thanks for the identity and witness of the faithful congregation of the Thessalonians. Over the course of these ten lovely verses, Paul lifts up the Thessalonians’ identity and witness as things worthy of celebration, and he uses these as the springboard for his larger message that continues throughout the rest of the letter.

Paul identifies the Thessalonians first and foremost as “a church in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ,” connecting them to the broader group of saints gathered in so many places who bear witness to the faithfulness of God in Jesus Christ. Then he names them as brothers and sisters beloved and chosen by God, people whose identity and hope is caught up not in any action of their own but in the gracious and merciful action of God. As such, they become imitators of Paul and his colleagues and of the Lord, remaining faithful amidst trying circumstances and becoming an example for others to follow along the way.

This faithful witness of the Thessalonians is the second major theme of our text for today. Paul is deeply impressed by the Thessalonians’ “work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” He is convinced that the actions that are emerging out of their identity are bearing real fruit, that other people are seeing the things that the Thessalonians are doing and are being inspired for their own faithfulness. These faithful actions are becoming clear not just in the nearest cities of Macedonia and Achaia but in places beyond, too. Their proclamation in word and in deed is so clear that Paul says “we have no need to speak about it,” and news of their welcoming spirit is spreading quickly among all the faithful.

Identity and witness matter for us today just as much as they did for the founders of this church in 1871 and for the Thessalonians nearly two thousand years ago. Like the Thessalonians, our identity must be caught up in the relationships that connect us to one another and the broader community, in our understanding that we are beloved children of God, and in our confidence that God has chosen us for the particular purpose of bearing witness to God’s work in the world. When we see ourselves in this way, we are challenged not to dwell on the years that are behind us but to look ahead to the new things that God is doing in us and through us in the days ahead. When we carry this confidence with us, we are reminded that the life that we share in this place is not due to our own actions or the actions of those who have come before us but rather because of God’s gracious love that inspires us to give all glory and praise and honor to God for these amazing gifts. And when we carry this identity with us, we find that we are not alone in this work and so are encouraged to join in working for the transformation of all creation alongside all who seek a new and different way together.

This identity is the root and source of the witness that we also inherit from Paul, the Thessalonians, and two millennia of sisters and brothers in the faith. Just like those who have come before us in this place over the last 143 years, who we are informs what we do, and what we do is inseparable from who we are. We are called, then, to join with the saints of every time and place in the “work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” All that we say and do in the coming years of ministry in this place should reflect all these things, this blend of committed work and confidence in something beyond our labor, this mix of divine intervention and human action, this hopeful attention to changing this world and preparing for the next. And we are called to act so that others can see the new and different way of life that God is bringing into being for all the world through our Lord Jesus Christ.

The identity and witness of this congregation has sustained us for 143 years in our work and worship. We gather here to learn more about how we are God’s beloved children and how we are chosen for service and salvation. We learn here how God connects us to others who share our confession and who seek to live in faith, hope, and love. We come together in this place to be strengthened for the daily living of our faith. And we work together from this community so that our witness might be magnified into the world and that others might see the faithfulness of our God who loves us and calls us to new life.

As we celebrate even this minor anniversary, it is good and right for us to pause and give thanks for the years we have shared together in this place—but it is even more important for us to ask God to guide us as we approach the years ahead in our life together. We certainly have much to celebrate, not the least our continued existence as a congregation in a day and age when keeping the doors open, the heat on, and a pastor employed is a substantial challenge. Yet the same identity and witness that have sustained the life of this congregation since that first gathering in 1871 challenge us to do something more than just exist, to open ourselves to God’s new thing emerging in our midst, to commit ourselves to being witnesses of God’s presence in our lives and in our community, and to work with one another and with our sisters and brothers so that God’s peace, justice, love, mercy, and grace can be all the more real in our broken world.

So, my friends, as we celebrate 143 years of ministry in this place today, as we remember a few of the faithful servants who have been an integral part of our life together through presence and service, may God also guide us and inspire us in the days and years ahead, so that these 143 years might be only the beginning of the faithful witness to God’s love, justice, peace, and hope emerging from this place. Thanks be to God! Amen.

A New Way to Live Together

143 Years of Identity and Witness