Byron Pellecer: Today, not tomorrow

September 27, 2009
Numbers 11:4-6, 10-18; Mark 3:13-19

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Guest preacher on this day at Park View Mennonite Church was Byron Pellecer. Byron is the church-planter and pastor of the new "Mennonite Hispanic Initiative" in the Harrisonburg, VA area. This initiative is being collaboratively supported by Virginia Mennonite Missions, Eastern Mennonite Seminary, and area Mennonite congregations. It includes church planting, leadership development, and theological education. The new congregation was publicly launched this weekend, and will be meeting at Harrisonburg Mennonite Church.

Pastor Byron reminded us that we have 86,400 seconds in each day. God has called us to use those seconds to fulfill a mission in this world, to spread the Good News of God’s Kingdom. This is the day that God has given us. What are we going to do with it? Yesterday is gone and we cannot change it. Tomorrow is in God's hands. Today is in ours.


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Barbara Moyer Lehman: Hearing God’s Voice

September 20, 2009
Matthew 11:28-30; I Kings 19:1-18

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Tucked away in the Old Testament book of I Kings, is an intriguing story about the prophet Elijah. It was a difficult time, a tumultuous time in his life and the life of his nation. And in chapter 19, we find he is running away, escaping, fearing for his life.

Why is he afraid? Well, Jezebel, the wife of King Ahab of Israel, the northern kingdom, has threatened to have Elijah killed. And she means business! The first 16 chapters of I Kings we read about the various kings of Israel and Judah in this divided monarchy, and how they are continuing to drift farther and farther away from the worship of God/Yahweh. The kings are evil. Worship of other gods is common, accepted, encouraged, especially worship of Baal, the Canannite god, who they believe is responsible for the fertility of the land.

In chapter 16 we come to the reign of Ahab, King of Israel for 22 years during the middle of 800 B.C.E. And scripture records, “Ahab did more to provoke the anger of the Lord, the God of Israel, than had all the kings of Israel who were before him.”(16:33) One of the ‘not so good things’ that he did was to marry Jezebel, a Phoenician princess. From a political standpoint, it might have been a good thing, but it really became a religious disaster. Her influence over Ahab, who was already evil, continued to pull the nation further away from Yahweh.

During this time Elijah, the prophet, predicted a 3 year drought. Toward the end of that drought, he proposed a contest between the prophets of Baal and Yahweh. Baal failed. In this contest it became clear that Yahweh is the one and only true God of Israel, the one responsible for the fertility of the land, not Baal or any other god. In the end the prophets of Baal are seized and destroyed.

When the people acknowledge that there is only one true God in Israel, Elijah speaks the word to end the drought.

Today’s scripture: (19:1-18)

When Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, that he had killed the prophets of Baal, she sent a message to Elijah,’ You killed my prophets. Now I’m going to kill you!’

Elijah was afraid when he got her message and ran to the town of Beersheba in Judah. He left his servant there and walked another whole day into the desert. Finally he came to a large solitary broom tree, sat down in the shade and cried out to God, “I’ve had enough. Just let me die! I’m no better off than my ancestors.” Then he lay down in the shade and fell asleep.

Suddenly an angel of the Lord woke him up and said, “Get up and eat.” Elijah looked around and found a jar of water and baked bread by his head. He sat up, ate, drank, lay down and fell asleep.

The angel of the Lord awoke him again and said, “Get up and eat, or else you will get too tired for the journey.” So Elijah sat up, ate and drank again until he was full. The food and water gave him strength to walk another long way. At last he reached Mt. Sinai, the mountain of God. He found a cave there and spent the night.

While Elijah was on Mt. Sinai, the Lord asked, “So Elijah, why are you here?”
Elijah replied, “ Lord God All Powerful, I’ve been working my heart out for you, obeying you. But the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed your places of worship and killed all your prophets. I’m the only one left and now they are trying to kill me!”
“Go out and stand on the mountain”, the Lord replied, “and watch. I want you to see me when I pass by.”
Suddenly a huge hurricane wind shook the mountain and shattered the rocks, but the Lord was not in the wind. Then an earthquake happened, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, then a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of sheer silence...a gentle breeze...a quiet whisper. When Elijah heard that, he threw his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the entrance to the cave.
The Lord asked again, “Elijah, so why are you here?”
Elijah answered, “Lord God All Powerful, I’ve been working my heart out for you, obeying you. But the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed your places of worship and killed all your prophets. I’m the only one left and not they are trying to kill me!”
The Lord replies, “Elijah, go back, return through the desert to Damascus. When you get there, appoint Hazael king of Aram, appoint Jehu king of Israel and appoint Elisha, to take your place as prophet.
Anyone who escapes death by Hazael will be killed by Jehu, anyone who escapes death by Jehu will be killed by Elisha.
But 7000 Israelites who refused to worship Baal, I will preserve for myself. They will live.”

How do we seek God’s face and hear God’s voice when we are immersed in a culture of noise? when we are faced with a myriad of images that come at us from all different directions , when we are bombarded with way too much information, when we are stressed out and overworked and overwhelmed with choices and difficult decisions? When and how do we find a place and time for God? a place of quiet rest and renewal?

When Elijah was afraid, tired, exhausted, discouraged, he ran away. (Sometimes we may feel like doing that, as well). He knew his life was in danger. He fled the situation. He found a place of rest in the shade of a solitary tree in the desert and poured out his frustration to God. (I’ve had enough. Just let me die!) Tired and alone, he heard the angel of the Lord speak. God provided for his physical needs, as well, food and drink for the journey. He continued on and found refuge in a cave. There, too, he heard the probing voice of God, asking, “Why are you here?”

In the solitude and silence of that place, Elijah heard the voice, telling him to stand on the mountain and watch, for God was to pass by. God was promising his presence. Go..stand...watch for me! And Elijah discovers that God comes..not in the wind of the hurricane, not in the earthquake, not in the fire. But God comes in the sound of sheer silence, the gentle breeze, the quiet whisper. Wow!! How awesome!

How many times have we missed God because we have been too busy, too noisy, too preoccupied, too distracted to notice God’s presence/activity or hear God’s voice?

In my adult life, especially in my 22 years of ministry, one of the most difficult challenges for me is to find a balance, a healthy rhythm between doing and being, between solitude and community, between engagement with others and alone time.

I have come to believe that most of the time, spaces of quiet do not automatically present themselves to us. I believe that we need to deliberately and intentionally clear a space for God, to plan an interval of stillness, a pause in the day or week, or month that provides space and respite from the constant and unrelenting demands of our schedules.

I have tried to build into my calendar some days of retreat. It is hard to keep them. I have found that when I do, I am in a far healthier mental, spiritual and emotional state than if I allow things to crowd them out or decide I don’t have the time this month. I agree with Thomas Merton who wrote, “It is in deep solitude and silence that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brother and sister.” (p. 15 Dakota, by Kathleen Norris)

There is no set pattern or formula that works for everyone when it comes to making room for God. Each of us needs to discover what we need and how it can work for us in our present context and life situation. What works for a full time teacher will be different from a stay at home mom. What works for a retired person will be different from a factory worker....and so on.

Pay attention to what keeps you grounded, focused, and calm. It might be something as simple as 10 minutes of deep breathing exercises or yoga. It might be praying the Lord’s prayer or reciting the 23rd Psalm every day. It might be stepping away from the computer a certain time each day and walking around the block. It might be leaving your cell phone at home or not checking your e mails every day. It might be taking a day apart, a retreat..once a month, several days every year.

A woman from Colorado wrote, “Taking a spiritual retreat is like fasting, not from food, but from activity. It’s time to seek God, to help me find my center and get quiet again in my soul.” (quoted in A Place for God by Timothy Jones, p. 33)

If we are honest with ourselves, some of us must admit we don’t like silence, maybe even are afraid of it. Some of us aren’t so sure we should even take a break, to get away for a day or two or a long weekend. We are so geared to doing and producing and thinking that every day and minute must count! It can’t be wasted! If that is you, then the thought of leaving being calendars, cell phones, computers, blackberries, your work and family responsibilities, may throw you into a panic attack. You’re not alone! The first time I went on a weekend prayer retreat years ago that was mostly a silent retreat, I could hardly get through it. But know I look forward to those times and moments and breathing spaces that I plan for and sometimes that do come unexpectedly.

Kathleen Norris tells a story of when she was an artist in residence in elementary schools. She would conduct an experiment with the students regarding noise and silence. She told them when she raised her hand, they should make as much noise as they could while sitting at their desk, using their mouth, hands and feet. After a while they learned to really let loose. Then when her hand came down, she told them to be as silent as they could, not making any noise. As first they were almost frightened by the eerie power of silence, but then learned to love the stillness. After the experiment, she had them write about it, to describe their experiences on paper. Describing the noise was simpler and predictable. (“herd of elephants”, “loud train,”) Describing the silence was harder and called forth more imagination. One girl wrote, “Silence is a tree spreading its branches to the sun.” Another girl wrote, “Silence reminds me to take my soul with me wherever I go.”

Can we take a break from noisy and busy lives? Jesus had crowds around him daily, as he preached, taught and healed the sick. Yet he went off, found a quiet place, a solitary place to pray. Henri Nouwen writes, “In that place he finds the courage to follow God’s will and not his own, to speak God’s words and not his own; to do God’s work and not his own.”

I believe that we all have a hunger, at times, to be replenished in body, mind and spirit....a longing for solitude, rest and rhythm. There is a time for hunkering down, working hard, staying busy, being involved and engaged, putting out, but there is also a time for getting away, disengaging, letting go, being silent, and yes, even nonproductive. Timothy Jones writes in his book, A Place for God, “Everyone needs the alternation of putting out and taking in, of pulling back in order to find energy to keep going. Life gets out of sync otherwise. To balance the noise of modern life we need the enriching power of at lease occasional spaces of quiet. We season our times with others with times apart.” (p. 39)

Jesus offers us rest. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. “ Matthew 11:28-30

Jesus comes to us in the silence.



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Phil Kniss: Bringing the church back to the table

September 13, 2009
Genesis 22:15-18; Luke 10:1-9; Acts 2:41-47

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I don’t know why God decided to do it this way, but God did.

God decided to put his agenda of saving a fallen world
into the hands of the likes of us,
a motley crew of people who
believe in God most of the time . . . kind of . . .
who try to live the way Jesus asked them to
some of the time . . . sort of . . .
and pretty often make a mess of very simple things.

God could have programmed this whole “salvation of the world” thing
in a way that made a lot more sense, don’t you think?
I mean, God has been working at this salvation business for a long time,
without a whole lot of progress, it would seem . . .
if we look at the world around us—
what with people killing one another and destroying creation
at an alarming rate.

God has the power to stop it.
This same God did some pretty innovative things in the past
to get people’s attention and put things right—
like flooding the whole earth, and saving the faithful . . .
(oh, but God said he wouldn’t do that again, so scratch that option)
or speaking to the people from a mountain, with fire and smoke,
or parting the waters of the sea,
or sending a heavenly choir to shepherds to announce salvation.
God could try those things again.

But you know,
if you look more closely at those great salvation stories,
you’ll see God was doing all that with motley crews just like us.
After being saved from the flood,
Noah and his sons blew it,
started doing unspeakable things.
God delivered the people from 400 years of slavery,
and the day after crossing the Red Sea,
they started complaining about water quality.
God spoke to the people from the smoke and the fire,
and soon after they made a golden calf to worship.
And it only got worse.

God—who wants more than anything else
to see this good and beautiful creation restored to wholeness,
to have wars cease,
to see the lion and wolf and calf and lamb and toddler,
all lie down together in the meadow to rest—
has trusted the likes of us to help God get it done.
In this massive project,
we are invited as bona-fide partners with God.
God invites ordinary people who gather together regularly,
in faith, in hope, in trust,
and in mutual covenant with each other and God.
God collaborates, for the salvation of the world,
with these earthy communities of human beings,
the church.

But if you look at the way the church of Jesus Christ
actually behaved over the centuries,
you get a different picture.
You’d think God really wants to save the world
with a program, not a people.
You’d think God was looking for the best organized church,
with the greatest attendance,
and largest missions program,
and slickest marketing tools,
and fattest budget,
and best superstar preachers.

But no.
God entrusted the salvation of the world,
to a divine partnership
between the Holy Spirit of God,
and real-life communities of seriously flawed human beings.

Beginning with God’s first covenant with a people group
(which we heard about in today’s reading from Genesis)
and continuing through the company of prophets,
the twelve apostles,
the seventy disciples,
the network of house churches around the Mediterranean . . .
God has always and continually
sought out a relationship with a group of people,
and asked them to collaborate in God’s mission.

When the church first took root, that’s exactly what happened.
Read the book of Acts.
Individuals were being drawn into community,
the powers of the world were being shaken,
God’s salvation was sweeping through families, towns, and cities.

But over time things changed.
For a while,
these living and breathing communities of God’s collaborators
were small enough to meet in each other’s homes,
and break bread together daily,
and share their resources with each other generously.
For a while,
they could deal with conflict
by speaking with each other face-to-face,
because they knew each other’s stories deeply.
For a while,
they could wrestle with huge moral and theological questions
without coming apart at the seams.
Like building a family with Jews and Gentiles, long-time enemies.
For a while,
they were nimble enough, as an organic body,
to change patterns of leadership when that was needed.
For a while,
they could actually open their doors,
and strangers would feel fully welcomed and at home,
without being confused by foreign rituals
and strange symbols and language.
For a while,
they were doing exactly what Jesus commissioned them to do
in today’s reading from Luke 10.
They not only talked, but demonstrated,
what life under God’s reign looked like day in and day out.

But time passed.
The Roman Empire became the Holy Roman Empire.
Christianity became the official religion of the Empire.
And the church happily became a fixture in society.
It enjoyed stability.
But it also suffered from a profound lack of openness
to anything new God wanted to do among them.
The Gospel message no longer needed to be shared,
because they all had it already,
they owned it.
Conflicts were no longer dealt with in Spirit-filled
face-to-face conversations with each other.
Instead, conflicts were put down, swiftly, with the sword.
Heretics were burned or drowned.
And the establishment was protected.
And the stage was set for the church to become
a rigid, self-protective, powerful religious institution,
that used its power to maintain order,
to preserve its role in society,
and to keep out undesirable elements.

You know . . . a whole lot of people still see the church that way.
_____________________

So here we are. Today.
In a congregation much larger than any envisioned in the Bible.
With a lot more to protect.
With a tradition to honor.
A structure to maintain.
Bills to pay.
People to make happy.

Does God love the church we have become?
Oh, of course, God loves this church, and others like it.
Is there a place in the mission of God
for a church that has a lot to protect
and is not likely to take big risks?
Yes, there has to be.
Can God do good things through large, complex,
and institutional churches?
Of course, God can.
If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be here.

But would I also say,
that the institutional church—
like Park View and most any other well-established church—
was not really envisioned in the New Testament.
Church as institution developed much later,
during a time when the church
was deeply aligned with the Empire.

So I think it’s fair to ask . . . and imagine together . . .
How might Park View Mennonite, or other churches like us,
be more faithful to the vision of church in scripture?
Could a church like ours be described
like the first believers were
in the reading we heard from Acts 2?
Could we be a people
who “devote themselves daily to teaching and fellowship,
to breaking of bread and the prayers,”
who cause neighbors to look on in wonder,
at the signs of God’s work among us,
who sell possessions and goods
in order to care for others in need,
who “day by day” spend time together, and in the public square,
“praising God and having the goodwill of all,”
who are growing,
not because an attractive program draws in church people,
but because “the Lord is adding numbers daily,
of those who are being saved.”

If this is going to happen,
we need to bring the church back to the table.
If all we are is a fine church with an exciting program,
and growing attendance,
and great worship and music,
with something for all ages . . .
If we are not breaking bread together, face-to-face,
in table-sized groups,
with glad and generous hearts,
and if we do not know, in the deepest way,
the stories of others at our table,
and if we are not praying, worshiping,
studying scripture, and seeking God’s face,
at tables, so to speak,
then we are missing an essential part
of what church is meant to be.

Jesus modeled a small-scale communal and missional life
with his own disciples.
And he expected them to replicate it,
when they went out on their own.
We just listened to the story in Luke 10.
What a stark contrast
between the way churches operate today,
and what the disciples were told to do in Luke 10!
What would you think about a church development effort,
that involved believers going out in pairs,
and not carrying with them any money, food, or extra clothes?
Just looking for a town, and a household, that would take them in,
and show them hospitality?
And then just move in and stay put,
eating whatever they bring you,
just building a relationship.
And then, after you show yourself vulnerable,
once you prove to your hosts that you need them,
then you share the Gospel, “the Kingdom of God is near you.”
Then you heal, and deliver, and minister God’s grace.

That’s not what we call “doing evangelism” or “doing missions.”
That’s called “forming missional communities.”
Luke 10 is about church at the table, both literally and figuratively.
The table-based communities of believers that formed
did not try to protect an institution or promote a religion.
They embodied . . . they gave voice to . . .
the reign of God among them.
They welcomed the stranger,
shared bread, shared resources,
shared good news with each other,
listened, learned, taught, healed, and delivered.

It seems to me that if we, as a large, complex,
and fairly institutional church,
are going to be faithful to the mission of God,
we need to learn how to help this larger entity, called PVMC,
become a catalyst for forming these smaller entities
where church happens at the table.
We need to have a structure that
empowers and enables the church to function at the table.
We need to see the church not as an institution,
but as a community of communities.
We need to see ourselves less as preservers of the institution,
and more as entrepreneurs, as risk-takers for God’s kingdom.
We need to structure ourselves in a way
that helps table-sized church to happen,
all over the place, seven days a week.
While still valuing what we can do as a large gathering once a week,
and in some programs we run for the larger whole.

I’m not promoting any one model
for what “church at the table” looks like.
Tables have many different sizes and styles and functions.
And we already have lots of table-church going on here, praise God!
Many Sunday School classes function this way, at least in part.
So do many small groups.
So do many informal groups of two, three, seven, or more.

When I say “church at the table”
I mean a group of people, small enough to fit around a table,
who very deliberately enter into a covenant with each other,
with Jesus at the center.
They agree to meet together often,
to enter into each other’s lives more deeply,
to “be church” together, in every sense of the word.

When I think of all the essential elements of being church—
gathering in worship,
disciple-making and evangelism,
praying,
interpreting and applying the scriptures,
discerning and decision-making,
forming faith through the lifespan,
practicing mutual aid,
practicing stewardship,
practicing mutual accountability,
building fellowship,
embodying the reign of God—
I am hard-pressed to think of any of these
that a table-sized group can’t do
much more effectively than a gathering of hundreds.

Of course, as a gathering of hundreds
we can add significantly to what table groups do,
we can add momentum, vision, excellence,
we can enjoy the strength of numbers
that make certain programs and ministries possible.
But we cannot, nor can we ever,
be a substitute for the essential function of church
that is really meant to happen at tables,
with Jesus at the center.

What I have said this morning, is not new to many of you.
You’ve heard me talk like this before.
And some of you know that we pastors and elders
recently articulated this vision of Park View church
as “a community of communities engaged in God’s mission.”
We came to Sunday School classes, commissions,
and other groups,
and engaged you in conversation around these things.
We intend to keep the conversation going.

I am putting together a series of sermons for October and November
that will continue the conversation.
We’ll be looking at specifics of how “church-at-the-table”
does worship, discernment, biblical interpretation,
evangelism, faith formation, accountability, and the like.
And I invite your responses, as individuals,
and as groups who might want to go deeper in your life together,
and start seeing yourselves more as church.

The church exists for one purpose—
to glorify and exalt God and God’s purpose among the nations.
God trusts this congregation of believers
to be about that purpose.
And God calls each one of us individually to stand,
not alone, but in the congregation,
and join in this collective praise and worship and work.
Let’s rejoice in God’s call as we sing,
#113 in Sing the Story, the purple book. #113.

—Phil Kniss, September 13, 2009



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Phil Kniss: God's work and our work

September 6, 2009
Genesis 2:1-3; Psalm 8; Ecclesiastes 5:18-20

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The thing that sticks in my mind about work,
that I seem to have learned growing up in the church,
is that there were two kinds of work—
the Lord’s work, and regular work.

We often had guest speakers at church—missionaries and the like—
who spoke in reverent tones about “the work of the Lord”
to which they had been called,
and to which they had devoted their lives.
I thought, wow, that must really be something special,
to have God call you, personally,
to give your life over to “the work of the Lord.”

My dad was a house painter. Had his own business.
Before I was born he drove a bread delivery truck.
He did regular work, not “the Lord’s work.”
Until I was in the third grade,
and the Lord called him—
or precisely, a Lancaster conference bishop called him—
to devote his life to “the Lord’s work.”
He became a pastor of a small church in Sarasota, Florida.
Unfortunately for our family,
the Lord’s work didn’t pay anything.
And that was on principle, not because the church couldn’t afford it.
The occasional “love offering” that was given
didn’t make ends meet for his growing family.
So he did some regular work on the side,
helping out another house painter.
Once, when the church needed to make arrangements
for mowing the 2-acre property,
Dad offered to the church council that his sons—
me and my brother Fred—
might be willing to mow the yard for a few dollars.
But one of the Council members strenuously objected,
because it was too much like paying the pastor.
Fred and I got the job anyway,
and of course, gave our earnings to our parents.

In the church of my youth,
doing the “Lord’s work” was not about having a paid job.
It was about doing a specific kind
of church-based or church-focused ministry.
It was being a pastor, it was being a missionary,
or even, it was being a devoted lay worker in the local church.
So . . . being the church treasurer: Lord’s work.
Being a CPA and doing someone’s taxes: regular work.
Helping remodel the Sunday School wing: Lord’s work.
Building houses for a living: regular work.
Teaching a children’s Sunday School class: Lord’s work.
Teaching in the local elementary school: regular work.
Being the nurse at the church summer camp: Lord’s work.
Being a nurse in a hospital: regular work.

In the last couple generations,
Mennonites have warmed to the idea of ministers as staff.
Churches hire pastors who are full-time, paid, trained professionals.
Many also hire church musicians, educators,
health ministers, counselors, financial staff or others.
Depending on your perspective,
that could be good, bad, or neutral.
But I wonder if that’s only heightened this distinction we make
between those engaged in the work of the Lord,
and those engaged in regular, secular work.

And I wonder what the God revealed in scripture
thinks about this distinction we make?

From the very first chapters of Genesis,
to the book of Revelation,
we find a God who works—
who works diligently, steadfastly in this world,
and who expects all God’s people
to be engaged in exactly the same work.
From a biblical point of view,
what part of our work is not the work of Lord?
If we are engaged in honorable work,
why would it not all be the Lord’s work?

Let’s take a look in Genesis, to begin with.
The moment God breathed life into humankind,
they were also given a job.
Chapter 1, vv. 27-28:
“So God created humankind in his image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.
God blessed them, and God said to them,
‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it;
and have dominion over the fish of the sea
and over the birds of the air
and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.’”
God worked to create everything in this universe,
and then created humankind and said,
“Your job is to take care of this for me.
That is your work.
Care for what I have made.
It is very good. Keep it that way.
Make it even better.
Help it grow and thrive and fill the earth.”

And then, on the seventh day, God could really rest.
Because the work of creation was complete.
And it was now in capable hands.

But sadly, it didn’t take but one more chapter in Genesis,
for these capable hands to drop the ball.
For humankind to fall down on the job,
to shirk the duties of the one job God gave us.

Instead of working in a way that collaborated with God,
that enhanced God’s creative work,
we rebelled.
We thought we could do one better!

The result of which is we inherited a wounded creation—
a creation that struggles against forces of destruction,
of violence, of self-centeredness.
We ourselves are wounded and in need of healing.
The systems of our world are broken
and in need of restoration.

God is still at work in the world,
working toward life, toward beauty, toward truth,
toward the wholeness God created to begin with.
But God has not gone back on that first decision God made in Genesis 1.
To put this essential work in our hands.
It remains our divine mandate
to care for all that God made,
even that which is now fallen.
To now take all that is ugly, or evil, or false,
and co-labor with God in bringing it back to its state
of being beautiful, good, and true—
just as God created it.

In the psalm we heard this morning,
it is assumed that our work is, to do God’s work.
The psalmist sings about the goodness of what God did in creation—
“When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what are mere mortals that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?”

In light of God’s great work,
who are we? what are we here for?
The psalmist asks this rhetorical question, and then answers it.
“You have made [us just] a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned [us] with glory and honor.
You made [us] rulers over the works of your hands;
you put everything under [our] feet:
all flocks and herds,
and the animals of the wild,
the birds in the sky,
and the fish in the sea.”
[Amazing! You put us in charge of your work!]

And . . . on this side of the Great Fall,
God’s work is what?
to sustain creation,
to give life . . .
to make beauty,
to do good,
to speak truth . . .
to save that which has been lost to its created purpose . . .
to heal that which is wounded . . .
to make whole what is broken . . .
to reconcile what is alienated.

Right there is the sole criteria we should use when we judge
whether we are doing the Lord’s work or regular work.
The sole criteria.
It has nothing whatsoever to do
with whether you’re drawing a paycheck from the church,
or if you’re volunteering anywhere in the church structure.
It has only to do with whether you commit your waking hours
to pursuing what God is pursuing.
It has to do with whether you see yourself—
not between 8 and 5, Mon-Fri,
or whenever your work week begins and ends—
but whether you see yourself day in and day out
as God’s partner in labor.
Does the work you are doing—
as an employee, a volunteer, a business owner,
or as a neighbor, or as a member of a household—
contribute to God’s agenda in this world?
Or does it not?

Does your labor in some way sustain creation?
or give life?
Does it create beauty,
or do good,
or speak truth?
Does it save that which has been lost to its created purpose?
Does is heal that which is wounded?
Does it make whole what is broken?
Does it reconcile what is alienated?

Now please hear me,
I am not saying every paid job you get in life,
needs to have you profoundly and directly engaged
in the lofty work of reconciliation and healing and salvation.
It may be hard to see that happening when you are
waiting on tables at Jess’
or crunching numbers at Wachovia,
or doing laundry at RMH,
or teaching math at Thomas Harrison,
or even, sometimes, sitting in a pastor’s office at Park View.
But, more than we might expect,
I do believe every act we engage in—at work, at play, at rest—
can be measured in light of whether it corresponds,
even in some small way,
to God’s saving and healing agenda in the world.
Or whether it pushes against it.

There’s hardly a job out there, I think,
that doesn’t give a person regular opportunities to represent God,
and God’s work in the world.
It can be simply striving for excellence in whatever task you do.
It might be nothing more than offering a warm smile
or reassuring touch, to a co-worker under stress.
Or . . . finding a way to use less non-renewable energy,
without sacrificing your productivity.
Or . . . offering your services free of charge
to someone out of work.
Or . . . spending several unscheduled minutes
listening to a unhappy customer,
or a worried patient.
Or . . . throwing in an extra ear of corn
with every dozen you sell.
Or . . . having a 5-minute conversation
with your boss at the water cooler.
Or . . . staying late to help a struggling student.
Or . . . happily cleaning up someone else’s accidental mess,
without saying a word.

I know that many of you already see your job as a mission.
I’ve talked with you about these things.
I know how seriously and joyfully Tom Barner takes his job
as a part-time driver for a handicap school bus.
I know the kind of long hours Merle Mast puts in at JMU
to run a department that trains competent, compassionate nurses.
I know how deeply Edgar Miller feels about serving his employees,
and helping them feel valued, even in hard economic times,
in his work as a manager at Truck Enterprises.
I know the love and care for beauty and excellence
that Elaine Warfel Stauffer puts into candy-making.
(Her work has blessed me many times.)
I know Ron Yoder’s dedication in finding the delicate balance
between needs of employees, residents, and the public, at VMRC.
I know how much joy Bonnie Stutzman gets from being available
as a chaplain to patients in distress at Rockingham Memorial.
And some of you retirees who volunteer at Gift and Thrift—
your all-out dedication to your job, is amazing.
More than once, I know some of you showed up to work there,
the same day you got out of the hospital.
Whether you sell insurance, build houses, plant trees,
teach students, play music, or balance books,
many of you are people with a clear mission.
And I applaud you on this Labor Day.

Some of you might have yet to fully see your job as a mission.
I encourage you to start being attentive. You will find it.
And as I said, it doesn’t have to do with drawing a paycheck.
So even those of you with the very real and very present
struggle and pain of unemployment, or underemployment,
have opportunity to find purpose and meaning in your labor,
as you look for ways to engage in the saving, healing,
recreating, and reconciling mission of God in this world.

Not every job, of course, is easily reconciled with God’s mission.
We may be treating employees or customers with kindness,
we may be getting high performance marks from our boss.
But if the work we actually produce is in tension with God’s mission,
if it encourages our society to be more violent,
more materialistic, more self-obsessed . . .
if our work is diminishing our capacity to be
healthy, life-giving, compassionate human beings,
then maybe another kind of work is called for.

Good work, honorable work, life-giving work,
in whatever form it takes,
is the Lord’s work.
And it is a gift and grace of God to be able to do it.

The preacher, in Ecclesiastes chapter 5,
had this to say about work:
“This is a good thing
it is fitting to eat and drink and find enjoyment
in all the toil with which one toils under the sun
the few days of the life God gives us...
[And all who] accept their lot and find enjoyment in their toil—
this is the gift of God.
For they will scarcely brood over the days of their lives,
because God keeps them occupied with the joy of their hearts.”

When our work is a collaboration with—a “co-laboring” with—
the work of God,
we are being occupied with the “joy of our hearts.”
What more could we ask for?

This is what we celebrate today:
The work of the Lord in which we are engaged,
whether in a paying job,
or simply in our daily living.

And now we celebrate that in a tangible way.
We have a two-part offering this morning.
Before we offer our tithes and financial offerings,
we will bring the offering of our work.

You were invited to come to worship in your normal work clothes.
That’s what I’m wearing today,
and many of you are, as well.
And you were invited to bring with you some symbol of your work,
a tangible symbol of what you give to God daily in your work.
If you didn’t know about this in advance, it’s no problem.
You might even have something in your wallet or pocket or purse,
that could be a symbol of the work you do—
a business card, a pen, a smart phone, a needle and thread,
a student I.D. card.
If you can’t find anything,
you can tear off a corner of the bulletin
and write down what your gift of work is.
Either your paid job,
or however you are engaged in “the Lord’s work.”

We invite you to bring that forward,
and as a statement to God and to this community,
lay it on the altar as an offering,
that we might give thanks for it, pray for it,
and dedicate it to God’s work in the world.
If walking forward is difficult,
you can send your gift up with someone near you.

And if your symbol is something essential,
that you will need again to continue your work,
feel free to come and retrieve it after the service.

You may now come, whenever you are ready,
in no particular order.

—Phil Kniss, September 6, 2009


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