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January 2, 2005
New Lease
Jeremiah 31:7-14
My wife and I have just taken out a new lease on a condo in Marion. That's where we'll be living during our time with you. We're close to having important things unpacked and arranged. Settled may be overstating things, but we're getting there. Pretty soon, we'll feel OK about having people in. A new lease means change is in the air. Some changes are more obvious than others.
You're Session has taken out a new lease. Your pastor of the past several years has gone; you're just before beginning a search for a new pastor. Even before that change, you got started on a major renovation of your building. You're in transition—big time. Meanwhile, your Session has arranged "temporary housing" until you get what you're looking for. You've glimpsed something of the future, and called it "Magnet for Ministry."
Jeremiah is talking about beginning anew. For generations his people had been a proud nation. God's favorites, you might say, with all the ambiguities that go along with it. Then disaster struck. Their nation was in ruins. The brightest and the best had been taken captive, and relocated to alien territory. It was hard to sing the Lord's song in a strange land. Jeremiah doesn't want them to give up, but to begin afresh in eager response to the new thing God was about to do with them.
For you, beginning anew needn't be so strenuous. You've bid farewell a pastor and have framed work for the future you trust God is leading you into. Rather than this interim time being a burden, it may well be filled with a spirit of exuberance and excitement—even joy. I'm here temporarily to help, until you find the person you believe God is calling to sign a "new lease" with you.
A new lease bring a new context for living. Along with the excitement come challenges. You're a "downtown" congregation. Your members don't live here, but in surrounding areas. You're hoping people will come to the center of the donut formed by sprawling suburbanization of what was once a fairly compact city. A refurbished building; a strong program, including outreach to those with greatest need and the least likelihood of having that need met; new pastoral leadership; continued devotion and participation by longstanding members combined with the refreshment of new disciples—these are all important parts of the Lord making you a "Magnet for Ministry." There's more. You're Presbyterian. It's a rich legacy. Being Presbyterian in the 21st century also has its challenges. Some think Presbyterians have been and continue to be in something of a time of exile. Centuries ago our ancestors were in the vanguard of the Reformation. In the early days of the colonies and of the American republic, we Presbyterians were the leading Christian body, both in number and in influence. Some British even called the American Revolution "the Presbyterian rebellion." Things have changed. Nowadays, we Presbyterians are much diminished in number and influence—we are not the only ones of the Reformation churches to suffer so. Some say it is because we have lost our historic sense of calling, that we got too much into social and political issues, that we've abandoned core beliefs. Others say that it is precisely because the church has sought to be faithful to its calling—to be engaged in the social, economic, political struggles of people—that members who have not been able to stand the heat, as Harry Truman put it, have gotten out of the kitchen. Why we have lost ground is likely more complex than such ideological cant presumes.
The prominence of ideological cant is among challenges faced by Presbyterians. We have been a divided church and without a clear and agreed upon vision of ministry in a much changed world. Some years ago we Presbyterians sought to mend the terrible Civil War division in our family with the Reunion of 1983. Hopes for a stronger church and more vitality in mission efforts that accompanied reunion have been waylaid by struggles to gain a commonly shared vision of ministry and lively involvement with the gospel and the world in Christ's name. I believe renewal begins with congregations. Renewal begins here.
The future looms large. Interim times in a church are always about the future—about getting ready for the future into which God's leading us. Paradoxically, preparation for the future means coming to terms with the past. You probably recall the proverb: those who don't remember the past are bound to repeat it. Jeremiah knew all about Judah's past, and knew they needed to claim responsibility for it. Churches fallen from their heyday, like Israel gone into exile, remember how good it was "then," and long to have the old days restored, the days of glory and success.
The old Beatles' song makes a favorite anthem: "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far way. Oh, I believe in yesterday." Yesterday's important. Coming to terms with it can help us get ready for the future. In a way, we remember our way into the future. Some parts of your past you'll want to disavow and repent. Some parts of it, you'll want to embrace and celebrate. Now is a time to begin anew.
Another proverb puts it well: "Carry from the ashes of the past the fire, not the ashes." We Presbyterians must carry with us the fire of the gospel, and not the ashes of where the gospel has touched in the past. Ashes just make a mess. Fire catches on. What we lay aside and what we pack with us from our history will mark us for the future. Wasn't it Oscar Wilde who observed: "Every saint has a past and ever sinner has a future"?
"Magnet for Ministry." That's quite a slogan to herald your new identity. I'm eager to learn what it means. When I think of a magnet, I sometimes imagine the faithful being drawn to the Temple, Mt. Zion and Jerusalem. Jeremiah heard the Lord tell about it: "See, I am going to bring them from the land of the north, and gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labor, together; a great company, they shall return here." All are drawn to the center, as by a magnet. Yet, on the other hand, when I turn to the gospels and to the ministry of the Apostle Paul, I learn about people going out into all the world to make disciples. Is the church a centripetal force, drawing people to the center; or a centrifugal force, pushing people outward into the world? Or, is it somehow both? Choreographing our comings and our goings is a big part of keeping in step with the "Lord of the dance."
Who's going to help choreograph you into the new day? You'll want your new pastor to pitch in. Meanwhile, what about other leaders who may have escaped your notice, or who have been laying back for one reason or another? An interim time is when leadership that may have been off-stage will come center-stage. Some who've been center-stage will move to the chorus-line.
Knowing we're part of something greater than ourselves is part of following the Lord's lead into the new future. Presbyterians are connected—not as well as we might be, but connected. Our presbytery is a big part of our connection with the "something bigger" going on in our service of Christ.
Bigger things still bid to shape our ministry and its context. In the film "Spiderman 2," Spiderman in the person of his alter ego is arguing with his cousin about old wounds. Lurking in the background of their heated exchange are sinister efforts of a disappointed scientist gone off the deep end threatening to end the world. Spiderman calls a halt to the argument with his cousin, reminded that "bigger things" are going on, eclipsing their smaller, personal issues.
We all know about being part of things much larger than just you and me, me and mine: 9/11 and its aftermath, the war; the Indian Ocean's devastating tsunami that marked year's end. It's not that smaller, more personal things go away. They don't. They just get put in more profound perspective.
We do not always understand how God's hand is at work in our lives and in the affairs of the world. But we trust God, nevertheless, to give us such faith that we may have courage for the time, and with that courage, a wisdom and a fuller vision of our solidarity with all humankind in Christ.
When all's said and done, we are called to trust the Lord to lead us to embrace new leadership, including that of your new pastor, and a new future. We may believe we have glimpsed enough of the future to be confident that all that remains is working out the details. We've all heard who's in the details.
Consider yesterday's dramatic football win by the Hawkeyes over LSU. Hardly any Iowan would dispute Yogi Berra's wisdom: "It's not over 'til its over." With less than a minute to go, an Iowa victory that appeared a done deal was cast into dreadful doubt when LSU scored to take the lead. And then it happened—in the waning seconds of the game a Hail Mary pass worthy of legend from Tate to Holloway. Iowans rejoiced. Louisianans lamented. It could have gone the other way.
God's call to ministry bids us not to fall asleep at the wheel, but to wake up, stay alert and listen for God's word to us. We've got our plans. God has holy purposes. God is still working while we work out our plans. We need to be sure our plans suit God's purpose for this time and this place.
You have a chance for a fresh beginning. It's a good time to come to terms with what's gone before. It's a good time to get in tune with what God is making of you in anticipation of the ministry that lies ahead. It's a good time to be alert to new leaders emerging in your congregation. It's a good time to renew your part in the "bigger thing" that's going on. It's a good time to get ready for the new day God has in store for you.
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First Presbyterian
Church of Cedar Rapids
310 Fifth Street SE Cedar Rapids, IA 52401
Phone: 319-364-6148
E-mail: church@fpccr.org
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