This sermon was preached on July 9, 2017
This summer, in July, I was away for a conference in Chicago at Loyola University. As a diaconal minister, I am part of an association called Diakonia of the United Church of Canada or DUCC. DUCC is a member organization of a larger regional group called DOTAC - Diakonia of the Americas and the Caribbean. This regional group is one of three regions which form the World Federation of Diakonia. The three regions are DOTAC, DAP (Diakonia in the Asia and the Pacific), and DRAE (Diaconal Region of Africa and Europe). In Chicago I attended the world assembly, which takes place every four years. I came across people from Germany, Brazil, Jamaica, Fiji, Australia, South Korea, Japan, Nigeria, New Zealand, the Netherlands, Switzerland, the United Kingdom, Egypt, and more, including a bunch of Canadians, who were all dressed in red in honour of Canada Day (July 1). We are diaconal ministers, deacons, deaconesses, lay, ordained, commissioned, consecrated, Reverend, Sister, Rev. Deacon, and more.
We prayed together, we sang together, we wrestled with scripture, we struggled to understand one another with our different languages and accents and differences of culture, we were inspired, energized, frustrated, exhausted, and happy to be there but happy to go home until we meet again, four years from now, in Darwin, Australia.
The experience that I want to share with you though actually was not a part of the assembly of World Diakonia. It happened on our day off, on the Sunday. We were all invited to visit local churches in the area. I joined a group that went to Trinity United Church of Christ in South Chicago. Some of you may know this church by reputation. Jeremiah Wright, who was pastor at Trinity from 1972 to 2008, was past President Obama’s pastor and he made some remarks that were quite controversial during Obama’s presidential campaign. The pastor there now is Otis Moss III.
It's very difficult to put into words my experience of worship that morning. We arrived there just after 9:30 in the morning. The 7:30 worship service was just leaving. My first thought was, “Wow. A 2-hour worship service. How would people at home reach to that?" My second impression was that everyone was black. We were the only white people standing there as people gathered and talked and made ready to leave. We stuck out like a sore thumb. A few people approached us and welcomed us. They asked where we were from and were delighted to hear we were visiting from Canada. After most had left, we walked into the sanctuary. It was very large, with a choir loft, very comfortable seats, video cameras for live-stream services, the stain glass windows were scenes of the Exodus and the birth story, all depicted with black people. There were different instruments, no organ, but a piano, guitar, bass, and drums, and a high ceiling with seats that wrapped around 180 degrees, including the balcony.
People continued to welcome us and then the choir came in and the music began. There were 91 people in the choir and they were all dressed in white. The songs were simple and repetitive. I knew none of them but was singing along in a very short time. People stood and danced. They raised their hands, clapped their hands, swayed, and sang from the core of their beings. We held hands and prayed. We were invited to pray for the person next to us on either side. We shared in communion.
The energy and the Spirit in the place was palpable. You could feel it in your bones. I was moved to tears more than once by the genuine feeling people had for one another and for God. People in that building knew Jesus and felt Jesus. I could feel Jesus that Sunday morning in a church where I knew no one and was a stranger, but I was welcomed and embraced and I felt and knew God’s Spirit was surrounding us all in that place.
The last part of worship was the sermon, offered by an African-American preacher at his finest. Otis Moss III had just returned from a trip to Ethiopia with 95 people. The stories and the message he shared would make some white people very uncomfortable, but not us United Church folks. We laughed and nodded and even shouted an Amen with the rest of them.
This church went from 70 members back in 1972 to today’s 8500 members after Pastor Jeremiah Wright and Otis Moss III. Why? What makes this the place to go? What brings so many together on a Sunday morning? I think it’s because people feel and know and experience the divine. Because, according to a song they sang. they can be unashamedly black and unapologetically Christian. Because they invite the Holy Spirit into their worship and into their lives and let the Spirit open them to new experiences, to each other, and to God. Now I’ve only been once, but with a membership of 8500 people, they must be doing something right. The announcements listed programs that continue throughout the summer, including a Saturday farmer’s market, a revival, a youth revival, a justice strategy team, and a summer school that focuses on literacy. It's obvious that the Spirit I felt during worship is also being brought out into the world and being let loose to do the work of God.
I bet you know where this sermon is leading. After all, good sermons always bring it back to you, to us, to what’s happening in this community. Where is the Spirit? What is the Spirit inspiring us to do? How do we let the Spirit loose into the world?
I am in no way implying that we be like Trinity United Church in Chicago. For one thing, that would be totally inappropriate. This is an African-American church, a people who have been oppressed for hundreds of years, taken from their home country, subjugated in slavery, treated as less than human, and still fighting against racism and intolerance. That is their culture, their history, and their story.
What is our story? This was one of the themes of the sermon that day. Tell your story. Don't let others tell your story. If you don’t tell your story, if you lose your story, you die. When they traveled to Ethiopia, they were told that Ethiopia is the only country that was never colonized. They know their story. No one else tells their story. White people have not taken their story. African-Americans are reclaiming their story and telling it boldly.
What is our story? What is the good news we share? What is the story that tells others about who we are as a community. Diakonia across the globe is also reclaiming their story, as individual member organizations and as a world body. We celebrated our 70th year of being a Federation, while recognizing thousands of years of service in the world. We are learning our history and telling our story so that we don’t die, so that we can live and share the good news of the love of Christ, so that we can do the work God has called us to do.
What is our story? Is this what many faith communities are struggling with? Have we forgotten our story? Have we stopped reading the bible, stopped sharing the good news, stopped praying and putting our trust in God, stopped being a people of Christ in the world? Are we forgetting our story? Have we become a people who gather with no actual reason? Have we become a club that only gathers to hang out with one another, make rules about membership and have meetings that have nothing to do with our mission. Do we have a mission?
What would it look like for St. Paul’s to be filled with the Spirit? What would it look like for the people of this church to come to worship and feel Christ, to know God is with them, to experience the Holy Spirit pushing them out of their pews and into the world? In what ways do we need to let go and let the Spirit loose? Where do you feel God in your life? I’m not asking when you think about God, or talk about God, or read about God. I’m talking about your heart, your gut. When do you feel Jesus with you? Where do you feel the Spirit? What are you doing that was inspired by a call or a push by the Spirit? What could you be doing if you were following that call? Is something holding you back? Are we a church that wants to control the Spirit or do we have the wisdom to get out of the way and let the Spirit move us in unexpected ways, unplanned ways, maybe even unwanted ways?
The first two verses in our bible, from the New International Version, read, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” The Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. When the Spirit hovers, you know something is going to happen. God spoke into that darkness and creation was born. Light cut into the darkness, land took shape, and creatures filled the earth. That’s powerful stuff!
I think the Spirit is hovering now. There is the potential for something to happen. God is speaking but are we listening? This time, God is leaving it up to us. This time, we are the creators. What will we create? What will happen when we let the Spirit loose into the world? A new direction? A new vision? A new creation? Let’s get our egos and our need for control out of the way and find out, shall we? Let’s open our hearts, open our minds, share the story, and let the Spirit loose. May it be so. Amen.
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