When I was in college, I lived in the Farmers Union Co-op House. My dad worked for the North Dakota Farmers Union and I went to the summer camps and did the work to become a Torchbearer, something equivalent of an Eagle Scout, the highest award a youth could attain, though not as hard. It was truly a co-operative where those who lived in the house decided how the house was run. It had twenty rooms on the top two floors and a commercial kitchen in the basement. We hired the cook, one of the students was hired as the manager, and we had a board and weekly membership meetings. My last year of college we voted to close it and sell the property because we could not financially be viable any more. The financial reason was that those twenty rooms were doubled up most of its life and we became accustomed to living in the rooms by ourselves so we lost half the income. But deeper than that, the leaders that were there when I arrived thought that our rules and customs were too restrictive and just started letting them go. So when we started to realize we were going under, all we could come up with that we are an inexpensive place to live and nothing too much more to try to bring people in. Most of the things that made it special were lost.
It is better to be a part of something that is beginning than something that is ending. The dreams and ideas are limitless because you haven't tried anything yet, and it all seems possible. There is no limitations of "We've always done it that way before" and "My grandparents would have never done this." I am not suggesting that our church or Christianity itself is ending. However, we do find ourselves in a time where many churches are closing. When I first came to the Minnesota Conference in 1997, there were 150 churches in our conference. Now there are 123 I believe, and one of our conference staff is tasked with helping churches close and some pastors now have that as a specialty, or calling, to be called to help a church close with as much grace as possible. Often it is a numbers game, that people move from the rural area to the cities and there isn't enough people left to support a church. Sometimes the neighborhood changes and the new people who now live there aren't able to join because of cultural or other hurdles. As we work on our stewardship campaign and coming up with a new mission statement, how do we find that energy of something new, how do we navigate our traditions that hold onto or transform that which makes us, well us, and let go of that which holds us back?
The early church really didn't become the church as we know it under 40 years after Jesus died when Judaism and Christianity finally split for good. Up until then, it was just a new sect of Judaism that competed with Pharisees, Saduccees, and the Temple. So up until then, it was like the charismatic movement of the Roman Catholic Church in the 60's and 70's, something new, but part of the organization. Yet, Pentecost has just happened in the story of Acts, where people spoke in tongues and many came to believe in Jesus as the risen Christ and they believed that his return was soon and very soon. So when it tells that people sold off their possessions and gave it to the church, it had the expectation that Jesus was returning in a couple months, maybe a few years, five to ten at the most. It was exciting and new something totally different than living under Roman occupation or having to go to the Temple with all the rituals and sacrifices. It had some freedom from traditions and some freedom from planning for the future, because Jesus was returning. We can read in one of Paul's pseudo letters that he chastises those who just sit around and wait for the return without doing any work or participate some 30 year later than this. The expectation was still there with Paul in his ministry that he suggested people not get married because Christ was returning soon.
It is hard for me, and maybe us, as Americans to buy into this type of community. It sounds more like a cult or communism than anything we would like to be a part of. "Go sell all that you have it and give it to the church." Maybe a few of you would, but most of us would either leave or push that idea out of here pretty quickly, because it is our money, our property, and we get to decide what is done with it. But, maybe, there is an allure of having all things in common and trusting in God and community that things will be alright.
Finances aside, there was a freedom that was found rather than running the rat race. I heard once, "If you win the rat race, you are still a rat." To have something that is different than whoever dies with the most toys, wins! To be valued for more than our houses, the clothes we wear, the vehicles we drive. The breaking of the bread was sharing at the common table, no matter who you are or where you are on life's journey, grab a chunk of bread and sit down and let us eat together, let us pray together and seek something better than the cards that have been dealt to us.
Isaiah, in this vision of the future, includes more than just all peoples coming to the mountain. Isaiah says that all animals will also be at peace and they won't hurt each other no more and we won't have to live in fear of them either. This ancient vision I think is a guide for us in our time, in this world. Not only do we have to find a way to peace in our nation, amongst humanity, but we have to find a way to reconcile with the world itself and all life, so all may find life, enough, and peace.
This church and community has enough to offer us to keep on going and keep on growing. Though the pandemic has severely limited our opportunities to break bread together, we are adapting and finding other ways to come and be together, and sharing the message of God's love for the world, the goodness of creation, and leaning into a place for all upon this holy and whole planet. Amen.
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