by Pam Tinsley
The church I attend is a “noisy church.” When worshipping in the church, we can easily hear voices from the narthex. Sunday school classes meet in the parish hall directly beneath the church, and we often hear our children’s “joyful noise”. Our church is also located on a busy street corner, not far from a fire station, so that during a service, if you don’t hear a group of motorcycles roaring by, you’ll hear the siren of an ambulance responding to someone in need!
This all used to bother me until I realized that this noise – and seeming distraction – is actually a good reminder of where we are called to be – that we find Jesus out in the noisy, messy world, not simply in the peaceful tranquility of a sacred worship space.
And isn’t that really where church should be? Jesus calls us to be his followers. He calls us to learn from him and then to act, to be like him: to heal, to serve, to feed his sheep. Instead of remaining entirely separate, we – the church – are called to respond to people, to reach out to others, to be in the world. As much as we might like to remain inside the walls of the church, Jesus sends us out to serve as his body in the world.
Our “noisy church” is a good reminder, then, that our ministry as baptized Christians takes place whenever and wherever we intentionally listen to God and ask, “What is God doing here, right now, that I can join?” Jesus sends us to live into our baptism in our daily lives. We transform our ordinary occupations into Christian vocation by becoming Christ-centered in our actions and words – even if we are not speaking direct words of evangelism.
Now, the challenge is to live that out every day, intentionally, in the midst of our noisy lives, on the noisy street corner – which may be your own home, the grocery store, or in your workplace! That’s where Jesus is!
“Ultimate concerns” may vary from freedom, to personal integrity, to success in one’s career. We see the Spirit at work in all who choose love and justice as their primary values. Their choice of love and justice as primary has the quality of faith. We have a common ground. Our faith in the reality of God is not provable by reason. Others’ commitment to love and justice as ultimate values is similarly unprovable. Faith as our ultimate concern puts as all on the same street. We celebrate and join with people of no faith in any work – “mission” in good word – to make any part of daily life more loving or more just.
OUR MISSION
by Fletcher Lowe
So, who are those who minister to you? Certainly, your fellow Christians on the job or in your community or home. And what about those other folks out there in your world? Can we not celebrate their ministry also, even if they have no idea that they are ministering to us? Just a thought for further discussion. In the meanwhile, I will celebrate being ministered to by the folks on Dancing with the Stars!
Last Sunday’s Gospel reading offered the story about the disciple we often call “Doubting Thomas.” I think Thomas gets a bad rap. Merriam-Webster says the first known use of that term was 1883, so for most of Christian history we didn’t dismiss Thomas quite so easily. After all, he’s the disciple who also said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him,” as Jesus headed to Jerusalem, knowing there were plots to kill him. And when Jesus, at the Last Supper, said, “You know the way to the place where I am going,” Thomas was the one bold enough to say, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”
Sarah also happens to be a gifted writer. As she struggled with her grief, she wondered whether there might be a way she could find healing for herself and, at the same time, help others who were widowed at a younger age. Seeking God’s guidance, she prayed and, with God’s help, she began her “healing journey.” She took a leave of absence from work and went on several meditation retreats. And now she is blogging in the hope that she might be able to offer insights and encouragement to others. As she reaches out to others in their grief, her writing brings her healing moments in her own grief.
by Peyton G. Craighill
wer? And can we share it?
Initially both brothers disliked their work. The younger was so fed up he wanted out – and so he asked for his inheritance and left. The older, we learn later, saw his work as duty to the father ever though he loathed it. “For all these years, I have been working like a slave for you….” The irony is that the younger, having fallen into desperate times, “came to himself” and was willing to return and work as one of his father’s “hired hands.”
We are graded in life, first by others, then by ourselves. And no matter how good we are, we always could have been better. If left to our own devices, our own mean judgments, we will almost inevitably score poorly. We could have been, should have been better, don’t we know. There’s no way out of this downward, internal spiral, which can become viral, unless we are rescued by love. It’s otherwise hell, all the way to hell. We are secretly condemned and sentenced to a lifetime, an eternity of inadequacy, failure, and estrangement unless we are rescued by love: someone who will bequeath dignity, worth, recognition, and gratitude upon us because of who we are and what we do.