Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
January 16, 2005
John 1: 35-46
Preacher and teacher, Fred Craddock, shares this story: “I was asked to speak at a big church convention of a major denomination in Las Vegas. Why they had the church assembly in Las Vegas…okay, because it was Las Vegas. I went out of the hotel and got a cab to take me out to the convention center where the gathering was being held. I got in and told the driver where I was going. He said, ‘Is that where all those preachers and folks are gathering?’ I said, ‘Yeah.’
“He said, ‘I want to tell you. Don’t try to convert me. I’m Roman Catholic. I go to Mass; my wife goes to Mass; our kids go to Mass. We’re a Catholic family, we’re Christians, and if you want to convert somebody, get another cab!’
“I said, ‘I just want a ride out to the convention center.’
“And he said, ‘I’ve had four people try to convert me this morning, and I’m tired of it.’”
That’s one example of evangelism, of sharing the faith. Here is another, a story from the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Two months before his assassination, he spoke to his congregation at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta about his death. He said, “Every now and then I think about my own death, and I think about my funeral. If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get some people to deliver my eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. Every now and then I wonder what I want them to say. Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize – that’s not important. Tell them not to mention my other awards – that’s not important. I’d like someone to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others. I’d like someone to say that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody. I want you to be able to say that I did try to feed the hungry. I want you to be able to say that I did try to clothe those who were naked. I want you to be able to say that I did try to visit those in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity. I won’t have any money left behind. I won’t have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind.” The power of a committed life of faith to change lives. That also is evangelism. Come and see.
Jesus walks by and John the Baptist says to a couple of his disciples, “Look, there’s the lamb of God.” And the disciples begin to follow Jesus – but at a safe distance. Only in the Gospel of John do we see the Baptist’s own disciples leave him to follow Jesus. Jesus turns around, sees they are following him, and asks, “What are you looking for?” Certainly an interesting question for all who would seek to follow him. Just what are we looking for? Rather sheepishly they respond, “Well, Rabbi, where are you staying?”
Reflecting on this conversation, United Methodist bishop, William Willimon, writes, “At one level their question means, where do you live – where is your lodging? But at a deeper level it means, where are you working in the world? We’d like to know what this is about before we get too close. What are you doing in the world? To which Jesus responds, ‘Come and see.’”
Concludes, Willimon, “You can’t see Jesus at work in the world from a distance. You have to get involved in the middle of it, even when you can’t name it. Striving for a world of hope and peace, even when you can’t quite see it, and then, and only then, do you see the presence of the living Christ at work in the world.” Come and see.
Joanna Adams is a Presbyterian minister in Atlanta. For a time she was in charge of a homeless shelter in a downtown church. In Atlanta there is a Christian radio station that has a talk show hosted by a sort of religious Rush Limbaugh. He once interviewed Rev. Adams about the shelter. She described the ministry, saying, “We take in homeless people; we provide lodging and food.”
He was clearly suspicious. “What has this to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ?” he asked.
“Well,” she responded, “we try to show the compassion of Christ.”
“You didn’t hear my question,” he said, “What has this to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ?”
“Well, we try to take care of not only their physical needs, but also their spiritual needs. We try to show them compassion. We are concerned for them as human beings.”
But he would not let it go. “You’re not listening to my question. I want to know where Jesus Christ is in all this?”
Rev. Adams thought for a few moments, then said, “You just have to be there to know what I am talking about. You would have to see it for yourself.” Come and see.
Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Come and see. Can anything good come out of Sebastopol? Come and see. This past year we talked a lot about increasing our church’s visibility in the community. How can we get people to know about us, to know about what we believe, what we stand for? And so we prepared a new brochure, we have a new sign, we have the Ark, we invite the community to come here for exciting and stimulating speakers, we show up in force at public meetings in support of affordable housing, and most recently, for senior housing near the hospital. Like it not, our minister continues to bang out newspaper columns. All of this is good and it has made a difference. One could make a strong case that our church has far more visibility in this community today than we did eighteen months ago. But as good as all this is, what finally is going to make a difference? How are people really going to learn about us and our faith? Come and see. Each of us, and the lives we lead will be the key. Because wherever we go, whatever we say, there goes and speaks The Community Church of Sebastopol; indeed there goes and speaks the Gospel of Jesus Christ. See how they live, see how they care, see how they serve. That’s the church I want to be a part of. Ah, the power of a committed life.
Fred Craddock again: “I remember when I was serving a parish in Tennessee. On a rainy day, I would go over the church, to my study, and I would say to myself, ‘It’s too bad it’s raining. If it weren’t raining, I would go to the nursing home, and go to the hospital, maybe call on a few of the church members. But since it’s raining, I’ll just kick back with a good book. ’ I’d pull a book off the shelf, get in a comfortable chair, and lean back. And just as I did, I saw out the window, through the rain, those two Mormon missionaries. I said, ‘Why don’t you guys give me a break? It’s raining!’ Their zeal ruined my day.”
Perhaps we don’t need to be quite that zealous, going door to door in the rain. And yet, I recall another story told by a colleague. He was touring Scotland and one afternoon went into a magnificent Scottish cathedral. As it happened, he was the only person there and so he took his time walking around that vast and empty space. He made his way to the front of the church. His eyes followed a winding staircase that led up to a lofty pulpit. As he stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up, he saw a little brass plaque on the side of the pulpit. Since no one was around, he ventured up the stairs. When he got to the top, he looked out into the great cathedral. He breathed deeply, then remembered the plaque. What inspiring words would he see inscribed there? To his great surprise he read, “Remember Edna Bailey.” Edna Bailey? Generations of distinguished preachers had graced that pulpit and the plaque read, “Remember Edna Bailey.” Who was Edna Bailey?
At first he was disappointed. He wanted to read, expected to read, something inspiring, something like, “Sir, we would see Jesus.” But then it dawned on him that perhaps this plaque spoke a profound truth: the best way to see Jesus in the church was to remember Edna Bailey – one of the people of God faithfully doing the work of God each day in the world.
It was the great preacher, Phillips Brooks who, when asked why he was a Christian, responded, “I think I am a Christian because of my aunt, who lives in Teaneck, New Jersey.” Or as another preacher has written, “A Christian is someone who knows one.” If I have faith, it is because I have met faith. I have seen it in action. I think of my father, who really knew very little about Christian Education for children, yet for years he would go to our little church in Warren, Arizona, very early and get things ready for Sunday school because he was the Sunday School Superintendent. There was a woman who led the opening songs, but she was often late. I know my father, who was not much of a singer, died a thousand deaths wondering if she would get there every Sunday, but still he carried on. I remember his faithfulness and that of so many over the years. “A Christian is someone who knows one.”
Last week I found myself moaning and whining to my wife about the homeless count we are hosting at our church this coming Thursday. It is proving to be more work and to require more time than I anticipated, for me and for Karin in the office. How did I get myself and our church involved in this? What was I thinking? Then I thought of my sister – my baby sister. Her birthday was last Wednesday. She would have been 48; my sister, a person of faith who took Jesus’ words rather seriously, who went to law school so that she could serve and be an advocate for the poor, the homeless, the hurting, all those who get lost somewhere along the way. I remembered her and then knew why I got myself involved. How could I not?
If I have faith it is because I have met faith. Remember Edna Bailey. A Christian is someone who knows one. Come and see. My hope and prayer is that those words might be spoken of each of us and of our life together as a church.