Who Am I?

Colossians 2:6-15

Today is the 36th Anniversary of the founding of what has become All God’s Children Metropolitan Community Church. Whenever people gather to mark special milestones in their lives, there are usually pictures. This past week marked a milestone in Bill and my family when we celebrated the third birthday of Dakota, our Schnauzer. Most people who get to know us soon learn that we are very fond of our dogs. They are family to us. In the last church directory, we included our dogs in our family portrait. It seems that this is becoming a fairly common experience these days but the result can sometimes reveal some awkward family pictures. For example:

 

Anniversaries are good occasions to reflect upon the past and consider the future. They give us a chance to ask and answer the question, “Who am I? Who are we?” You might think the answer is fairly simple. We have the usual ways to answer: age, race, nationality, our place in the family structure (son, mom, grandma, brother, etc.) and so forth. It seems like the answers are pretty clear. It’s like being the eye-witness at a crime. You know what you see, right?

Chris Hansen produced a show this last week on MSNBC called “Did You See That?” where people discovered that what they thought they saw and what was real were two different things. We’re not as observant as we think. For example, a stranger asked you for directions on the street. While you’re talking some workers come through carrying a large canvass between the two of you. Once they are past, the person standing before you isn’t the same person who asked the question just moments before. Would you notice? Most don’t. Or you’re sitting at a table at a speed dating session where you’ve got five minutes to get to know everything you can about someone you’ve never met. When she gets up to run to the bathroom and a different person comes back to sit down and resume the conversation, would you notice? Nine out of ten men didn’t. Six out of ten women didn’t.

What’s the point? Well, our brains are amazing creations. They process so much information that we can’t consciously recognize all of it, so when something happens unexpectedly, our brains simply make it up. We’re convinced that we know the truth but don’t be so sure. I was at McDonalds on Lake Street one day this week for lunch. I went to the spot next to the drink fountain where the napkin dispenser always has been, but I couldn’t find any napkins. I found the ketchup dispenser, the cup lid display, the place where the straws were held, but the napkins weren’t where they usually were. I thought that was odd as I walked away. There were always napkins out. The Chris Hansen show came to mind and I decided to turn around one more time. The napkin dispenser was moved two feet further down the counter than where it usually was located. It was right in front of me and I didn’t see it. You could say, “Pastor, you’re just getting senile,” but I bet the same kind of thing has happened to you. You’ve got an idea of what reality should look like and when something doesn’t fit that picture, you’re mind doesn’t let you see it.

That’s what Colossians is trying to tell us. We are taught to see the world through hollow and deceptive philosophy, through human tradition and through the principles of the world, but God asks us to view the world through the lens of Jesus’ decision to sacrifice his life rather than turn his back on his values – in other words through the lens of grace. God places the bounty of amazing graces right in front of us and says, “Look. This is for you.” We look and we see problems. We see the obstacles. We see the disagreements. We miss the blessing.

When you think about the 36 years that this congregation has been ministering to the world, what do you see? Do you see the changes that have happened in Minnesota because of our witness? Do you see the growing number of welcoming churches that have opened their doors to a wider diversity because somebody (us) did it first? Do you see the children that have been born and the faces of those who died making this a place where God’s unrelenting grace could be available to another generation? Did your mind immediately go to “Would Jesus Discriminate?” or “Blessed and Blessings Others” or marriage equality? What do you see?

When you think about the future of All God’s Children, what do you see? Do you see a sanctuary filled with people hungry for God’s presence and a diverse community of support? Do you think about that person who sneaks in the back of the sanctuary right before worship hoping nobody saw them, hoping beyond hope that the promises they have heard about God could possibly be true? Do you think about a church where worship is held in more than one language – where classes and groups and seminars are constantly happening – where giving one’s life and energy to the cause is appreciated and honored? What do you see?

What we see is often determined by how we answer the question, “Who are we?” How do we define ourselves? It’s not as easy an answer to come to as many think. That is why the Bible encourages us to prayerfully consider the past (what has brought us to this point) and consider the future (where is God taking us) so that when we hold those two realities together we have a clearer vision for our present – our lives, our church and our world.

I want to close with the words of a hymn that I hope becomes our prayer as we face the future without fear. It was written by James W. Johnson in 1899 and is often considered to be the theme song for the African American struggle for justice. But there is growing evidence that the poem upon which this hymn was written was intended for a much wider audience and maybe we can hear our story in its words.

Lift every voice and sing, till earth and Heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet,
Come to the place for which our parents sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered;
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

And may this be our prayer as we mark the 36th anniversary of All God’s Children today:

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
Thou Who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou Who hast by Thy might, led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee.
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.
Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand,
True to our God, true to our native land.

Sources:
www.homileticsonline.com The Angst of Being French, July 2010.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38220974/ns/today-today/displaymode/1247/?beginSlide=1 http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/l/i/liftevry.htm

: Close Window :