A Sermon by Pastor Eun-sang Lee
preached January 26, 2003
Warren UMC's 102nd Anniversary
Mark 1:14-20
Many people have sent us words of congratulation and encouragement on this special day, including Bishop Warner and Revs. Gary and Claire Zilm who were Warren's student pastors in 1994-1995.
Rev. Ed Beck who gave a tireless leadership to completing the Warren Village project in the early 1970s wrote to us from Sun City West, Arizona: "Warren has continued to 'shine a light,' a very bright and clear light of witness for Christ in the Capitol Hill Area of Denver. But its witness for God's kingdom has spread far beyond the boundaries of Capitol Hill. For that I'm most grateful for your continued faithful witness. Faye and I are so grateful to you for allowing us to be a part of Warren's witnessing community."
Rev. Paul Kottke, who was Warren's pastor during late 1980s and early 1990s, wrote the following in an email: "As a church, you have served the Christian witness well. As a congregation, you are to be commended for your faithfulness in times of success as well as in times of struggle. The authentic faith expressed within community is alive and well at Warren. The Spirit of God moves in unexpected ways. All that we can do is to be faithful. I know of few churches that are as faithful to the gospel mandate of grace and justice as Warren." I want to pick up his theme of faithfulness and say that ministry is "Responding to God's Call for Faithful Living."
In today's text Mark understands the gospel in a nutshell: "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel." Repent means more than "feeling sorry" and "seeking forgiveness." The root of the word means to turn around, to change direction. According to our gospel story turning around can be as dramatic as leaving boats and nets behind to become fishers of people.
For Simon, Andrew, James, and John turning to follow this truth in Jesus meant turning from everything they had known. As Mark tells the story, Jesus saw them as he was walking along the shoreline of the Sea of Galilee. He told them to follow him and they did. Just like that, they dropped everything—their nets, boats and even their families. No discussion of the nature God and christology, no "what are your missional goals and how do you purport to achieve those?" "Follow me," and they responded immediately.
Is that really how the calling of the first disciples happened? I want to know sometimes all the details of this life-changing event. How did Jesus look like, smell like? Did he really come to them out of the blue? Or had the first disciples heard of Jesus? Had they been seeking, searching? Were they in some sort of identity crisis? Did an arrow or something straight out of heaven point on Jesus' head? Did they hear a voice from above?
Luke tells a slightly different story (Luke 5:1-11). In Luke's version, Jesus had been in the boat with Simon, and instructed him to cast the net into the deeper water. He caught a great number of fish. It made him fearful so Simon Peter asked Jesus to leave him. But Jesus told him that he would be fishers of men instead.
I like the brevity, decisiveness and mysteriousness of Mark's story. About critical junctures of life, we do not have much explanation. Something reveals itself and it becomes obvious, self-evident to us. I imagine Mark interviewing Peter for the gospel writing: "Hey, Peter, tell me about that calling stuff. What was it that drove you to follow Jesus?" I can understand if that's all he remembered, dropping the nets and everything and follow. "You mean you hadn't thought about this matter, about this Jesus guy? Were you going thorough some sort of crisis?" Might very well be, Peter had. But at the decisive moment something clicked, something called out and he responded.
I can try to explain my Christian journey on my Christian upbringing, my young inquiring mind that asked all the silly questions with which I cornered my Sunday School teachers, the adolescent search for my place in the world, for meaning in life--but at the decisive moment, it was not a culmination of reasoning and searching, it was this overwhelming realization, as if hearing a voice out of nowhere, that I was loved by my Creator as I was, this unmistakable sense of being in the grace that surpassed all the guilt traps my childhood church had put on me and all my sense of inadequacy--that's how I remember, or that's what counted in the end.
It is true that Peter stumbled many times along the way since this decisive turn around. He failed miserably during the critical time of Jesus’ trial. But the God who had called out him in the beginning was there, urging him to abide in the grace's abundance and calling him back to faithful living. It is so with us also throughout our Christian journey.
Please allow me to share one of those moments in my own journey in the grace. More than once I have shared this story with you. And as time goes by the details get fuzzy but what I remember clearly is the turning around, in my understanding of and relationship with God, and in my relationship with my son. In the fall of 1996 I had to travel to Phoenix, Arizona to attend a church related workshop. My ministry at that time was a struggle, to put it mildly. And my teenager son had just told me that he had tried to end his own life.
So, for four days while I was in Phoenix, I called home from my motel room in the morning before going out to the workshop, in the evening as soon as I came back, and in between whenever I could find time, to make sure that my son is OK. I could not concentrate on what was going on in the workshop, constantly worrying about my son, thinking about what had gone wrong, what could I have done differently?
Finally, it was during the closing worship. The steel drum band was playing loud and upbeat music, people were clapping and singing along, I sat there morbidly quiet, alone, still worrying and blaming and feeling helpless and powerless--like I said the details are fuzzy, but this is what I remember clearly--I felt something was churning in my lower abdomen. I felt something trying to come out. And when I let it out it came out as words. I gave sound to the words, and I said aloud, "My son, I love you." That's when I realized, I had worried about him, tried to find the reasons, tried to fix him, but I never tried to love him as he was and feel his pain as my own. And I cried. I so wanted to hug him, and tell him, just tell him, that I loved him. Then I felt the worries gone. I felt this inexplicable peace and the sense that it will be OK, my son will be OK, and even if it turns out differently, it will still be OK, nothing will separately us from God's love. In my mind that was the beginning of my new relationship with my son, but not only that, it was yet another beginning in my journey as a Christian, as a person.
I don't want you to misunderstand me. Searching and reasoning have their place. I like to read Christian apologetics. I love C S Lewis and G K Chesterton. And I know people experience God in many different ways. What I'm trying to say is that there is certain disjunction, certain leap, certain discontinuum, between human search and God's call. When God calls, we repent, turn around and change direction. Over and over again God calls us to faithful living and faithful ministry. How do we respond? What new direction is God showing us? I agree with Paul Kottke, church's business is not to be successful but to be faithful to God here and now.
I'm glad that I have become a part of the story of Warren United Methodist Church and wade with you in the water that is the history of people of Warren faithfully responding to God's calling to serve the present age.
In the 1930s and 40s, Dr. Cox called the people of Warren to not self-centered or other-centered life but God-centered life. In God, the tri-dimensional relationship of self, other and God becomes one and harmonious. During that age of fascism and war he asked the people of Warren to light a candle for "there isn't enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of one small candle."
In the 1960s during the age of white exodus to suburbia, you decided that the place of your ministry is in the inner city, stayed in this location and built the Warren Village.
Throughout the urban decline and mainline protestant denominations’ membership decline in 70s, 80s and 90s, you refused to dwell in the survival mode, but kept searching and seeking to expand your horizon and respond to changing neighborhood. "A Community of reconciliation serving Capitol Hill" became your motto. You opened up the church building to diverse community groups such as Men's Coming Out Group, International Folk Dancers, Young at Heart Narcotics Anonymous and Warren Village. You decided to join the Reconciling Ministry of the United Methodist Church.
Now, the neighborhood is changing once again. The majority of the Capitol Hill population are in their 20s and 30s. They are definitely urban, most of them live in “non-traditional family settings,” are fiercely independent and very suspicious of traditional institutional religions. They respond to different style of music and speak different spiritual languages.
I heard a real good joke last Friday. I went to the Immigration and Naturalization Service center to witness my mother-in-law's naturalization ceremony. (She finally became a US citizen after some 20 years, which is a whole another story for another time.) The regional director of INS who officiated the ceremony asked:
"What do you call a person who speaks many languages?"
People said, "Multilingual."
"What do you call a person who speaks two languages?"
"Bilingual."
"What do you call a person who speaks only one language?"
"Monolingual," a few said.
"American," the guy said.
Not only physically multi-lingual, we have to become spiritual multi-lingualist if we are to respond faithfully to God’s call to ministry with our changing neighbors. And God will make us one if we faithfully follow God's direction, however surprising it might turn out to be. There is non other than you with whom I'd rather take on that challenge. So, thank you and God bless us all.