Acts 2:42-47

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Christian community can support,

sustain, and energize our lives.

A sermon preached by

Dr. William O. (Bud) R= eeves

First United Methodist Church

Hot= Springs, Arkansas

December 14, 2008=

It can never be s= aid that Adele Gaboury's neighbors were less than responsible. When her front lawn g= rew hip-high, they had a local boy mow it down. When her pipes froze and burst, they had the water turned off. When the mail spilled out the front door, th= ey called the police. The only thing they didn't do was check to see if she was alive. She wasn't.

Police finally cl= imbed her crumbling brick steps, broke in the side door of her little blue house = in Worcester, MA, and found what they believed to be the skeletal remains of the 73-year-old woman. Evidently they had lain there for as long as four years! Eileen Dugan, 70, once a close friend of Gaboury's, whose house sits 20 feet from the dead woman's house, said, "It's not really a friendly neighborhood. I'm as much to blame as anyone. She was alone and needed someone t= o talk to, but I was working two jobs and was sick of her coming over at all hours. Eventually I stopped answering the door."[1]

In many places to= day, there is a tragic loss of friendliness, neighborliness, and community. Iron= ically, that’s what people want, seemingly more than anything else. People are starving for real human relationships. We want friend= s who care about us.

George Barna does= church research, and he discovered that 2 of the 4 top things people consider important in a church have to do with community. People care about the quality of t= he preaching and the doctrines of the church, but equally important are the perceptions that the members of the church care for one another and that th= ey are friendly.= [2]

When I decided to= name this sermon series “Come Home For Christmas,” I realized that f= or many people in our society today, “coming home” is not a positi= ve idea. Home is a place of conf= lict, abuse, or neglect, and people don’t want to re-enter the nightmare or pour salt in old wounds. Yet = even for those who have had tragic family lives, “home” is still a v= alid concept. What we need, especially if our family of origin is dysfunctional,= is a real home. There is an epid= emic of loneliness and lostness going on in our world today. We need friends; we need love; we = need community.

When the Messiah came as a baby born in Bethlehem, a strange community gathered around him: earthly parents who, according to Luke, were not yet married, perhaps very different in age, bar= nyard animals and beasts of burden, shepherds—common laborers with no good reputations—and Magi—educated, refined, powerful men from a for= eign land. There could not have be= en a more diverse community that first Christmas.

Look at the early church. The book of Acts describes the chu= rch as a motley crew of disciples, who themselves had widely divergent backgrounds, plus the women, some Jews, some Greeks, and some foreigners who happened to= be in Jerusalem for the festival of Pentecost and got caught up in the rush of the Holy Spirit. They were drawn together, and they created a community of faith that still serves as the model for Christian fellowship.<= /p>

The church today continues this traditio= n of “motleyness.” Especially when you look at the church in a larger context, there is such a diversity of folks: rich and poor, old and young, educated and uneducated, professional types and working class, all races, both genders, = some of the sweetest souls on earth and some of the meanest sinners anywhereR= 12;they’re all part of the church. What = does this group have in common? Wh= at draws us together? Simply fai= th in Jesus Christ and a need for community.

Carmen Renee Berry's r= ecent book, The Unauthorized Guide to Choosing a Church, was "inspired by her odyssey from the deeply conservative church of her childhood into the world of seekers and cynics, and back again." She eventually found that the very reason she withdrew from the church—her disappointment in church members who often failed to act as Christians̵= 2;was what drew her back. She writes: “I had overlooked one essential factor—that I am as finite and flawed as everyone else….When a friend committed suicide, I realized I could become too cynical, too lost, = and too alone. I needed a church, a community of believers. I needed to live in= my faith and visit my doubts. Something happens there that simply doesn't when= you are alone in prayer or on the internet. As much as I hate to admit it, my f= aith is enhanced and enlarged when in relationship to other less-than-perfect hu= man beings.”[3]

So here we are. Less-than-perfect. Together. In community. And the good news is= that the Christian community can support, sustain, and energize your life.<= /o:p>

The community of faith supports us when we are having a tough time in our life. When this works, it is one of the = things that the church does best. Wh= en there is a death in the family, when someone is sick or in the hospital, wh= en a couple is going through a divorce, when we’re depressed or hurting or confused or just exhausted, our church family can be there to hold us up and get us through until things get better.

The early church, as described in our Scripture lesson today, excelled in support. They prayed for one another. They pooled all their resources to= gether, so that if anyone had a need, that need was met by the community: “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proc= eeds to all, as any had need.”[= 4] In a day when there was no social w= elfare system, the church was one group that took care of its own and the needy in= the community. One of its main ministries was caring for the widow and the orphans. It’s no different today. Why do you think we go to the trou= ble to provide Christmas food and presents to needy families in our area? Because that what it means to be t= he community of faith!

The Sunday before Thanksgiving Karen’s uncle Monroe died. He was 92 years old and= kept his wits and his sense of humor to the very end. Most of the funeral consisted of h= is daughter and grandson telling favorite stories—mostly funny—abo= ut his life. A funeral down at Karen’s home church is more like a family reunion with a few tears. G= reat fellowship, lots of good food, and a real sense of community. That’s what sustains them th= rough the sad times.

Uncle Monroe and his w= ife Coma had become increasingly feeble in the last few years, and they had not been able to attend church in a while.&nbs= p; These were people that were always there every time the doors opened= and fed every preacher that preached a sermon in the church. So just two weeks before Monroe died, one Sunday morning, Silver Hill = United Methodist Church—all 50 of them—came to Monro= e and Coma’s house for worship. There were about 25 crammed into the kitchen and dining room and abo= ut 25 crammed into the den, and the preacher stood in the doorway and preached both directions. Somebody played the piano, and they had church. It was the best day Monroe and Coma had had in a long time.=

The community of faith supports and sustains us. We are all on a long spiritual journey from our baptism to the Kingdom of God. We are sustained for the pilgrimag= e by the community of faith. In the church we learn what it means to be disciples. We grow into mature Christians (eventually). We find out who= we are, whose we are, and why we were put on the planet, our purpose in life.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>

The early church did this through the teaching of the apostles, the breaking of the bread—which was not only Holy Communion but also shar= ing meals together—and the fellowship they shared with one another. They had means of sustaining commu= nity because they knew from the very start that Christianity cannot be practiced= in isolation. It is not a solita= ry faith. You have to have commu= nity.

In the church today, w= e have the means for sustaining the spiritual journey. It’s called discipleship. There are various means of grace by which God communicates his strength and courage to us for the pilgrimage. It includes Scripture, prayer, wor= ship, the sacraments of baptism and Holy Communion, fellowship with other believe= rs, and service. These are the to= ols the community provides for the disciple to complete the trip and enter the Kingdom of heaven.

Finally,= the community energizes our life.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> The Christian life is not always e= asy, but it is an exciting, fulfilling, wonderfully meaningful existence. It taps into sources of spiritual energy—food for the soul—that are simply not part of a faithless existence. =

Think of= the Christmas story. Can you imag= ine a more energizing experience than the shepherds had on the hillside the night that Jesus was born? To have = an angel appear to you and say, “I am bringing you good news of = great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savi= or, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you w= ill find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” Then to have a multitude of the he= avenly host show up and begin praising God: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” That energ= ized the shepherds to run all the way into Bethlehem, find the baby, breathlessly tell the story and fall down in worship. Then they left, “glorifying and praising God for all th= ey had heard and seen.”[5] =

The early Church was an energized bunch. After the coming of the Holy Spiri= t on the day of Pentecost, just being a part of their community was an awesome experience: “Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and sign= s were being done by the apostles.” There was a contagious joy a= mong the brothers and sisters because of what God was doing among them: “Day by day, as they spent much time to= gether in the temple, they broke bread at home an= d ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all t= he people.” And their ministries were effective. Salvation was brea= king out all over Jerusalem! “Day by day the Lord added to= their number those who were being saved.”[6] =

This is exciting stuff! Is our church that kind of communi= ty of faith? Are we characterized b= y a sense of awe? Do we see signs= and wonders of God at work among us? Is there a spirit of contagious joy about our fellowship? Is the Lord adding to our number t= hose who are being saved? Well, ye= s! But sometimes I think we get so bo= gged down in the daily grind that we forget to look at the big picture and reali= ze what an awesome experience this community of faith is. We forget to glorify and praise th= e Lord for the wonderful things he is doing among us.

Let me close today with a story that touched my heart because it touc= hed on one of my greatest fears in ministry.&n= bsp; Matthew Woodley is a pastor who almost gave up the ministry a few ye= ars ago. He started focusing on a= ll the negatives of the job—poor facilities, lack of money, infighting in the congregation, lack of growth. He felt a cynical, cold attitude creeping into his heart. Struggling with his call, he went = on vacation, and found himself sitting and praying in a park in Libby, Montana.

Suddenly, three childr= en with bag lunches, dirty clothes, and dirt-streaked faces plopped themselves= on the grass beside him. Before he could object or move, the oldest child laun= ched into a complicated story of family dysfunction: "Hi, my name is Deanna= , and I'm 12; my sister is Kristy, and she's 10; and Mikey, my brother—does= n't he look fat in his Lion King T-shirt?—is 6. Actually, though, we all have diff= erent dads. My dad is dead; Kristy'= s dad disappeared; and Mikey's dad beats him up, so our mom is divorcing the cree= p. My mom and her new fiancé, Larry, are at the casino because they need time alone, so she bought us all a barbecue burrito and told us to stay in = the park for two hours. Can we si= t by you?"

Pastor Woodley couldn’t say no. He ask= ed the children if they lived in town. Deanna, the family spokesperson, answered again, “No. We used to live in town, but my mo= m lost her job. I don't like living = in a tent. By the way, what's your job?"

"Well,” Mat= thew answered, “I'm a pastor."

After a long silence, = Deanna asked, "Mister Pastor, can you tell me something? I've heard stories about Jesus wal= king around healing people, loving people. Why doesn't he do that anymore?"

Woodley started to giv= e an educated, theological answer. But then he saw three children staring at him with big, love-hungry eyes. He looked at Deanna and Kristy, wi= th their limp burritos, and fat little abused Mikey, with barbecue sauce smear= ed on his Lion King T-shirt. Sud= denly tears welled up in his eyes, and he said, "Deanna, Kristy, Mikey, let = me start over. Do you have any idea how much Jesus loves you right now?"<= o:p>

Just as suddenly, God re-energized his call to ministry. He broke Matthew Woodley’s heart again—with God’s = love for these three children.[7]

This Christmas, let= 217;s don’t forget the essentials. Don’t forget that Jesus loves you very much. Don’t forget that there is a community that cares about you very much.&= nbsp; This is where you can depend on support and be sustained for the jou= rney and be energized for ministry. Here you will find the salvation of God. Don’t forget to come home this Christmas. Amen!

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