What We're Here For

What We’re Here For

Isaiah 42:1-7; Matthew 5:14-16 GNT

A sermon delivered by the Rev. Dr. Randy K. Hammer on January 19, 2020

What are we here for, as individuals and as a congregation?  That is a question we ponder every now and then.

In his book titled Behold I Do a New Thing, Kirk Hadaway speaks of “goal displacement—a process by which the primary mission of an organization is replaced by operative goals that have little, if anything, to do with the organization’s original reason for being. . . .  It often happens that what an organization does has little to do with its purpose.”¹

The point is illustrated by the story of the lighthouse that forgot what its purpose was.  In a quaint little seaside village, a lighthouse was built.  Its purpose was to radiate a warning light in the darkness to sailors at sea, and in the unfortunate event of a shipwreck, when ships didn’t heed or could not see its warning light because of dense fog, to be a life-saving or rescue station for those who crashed upon the rocks.  

Well, as time went by, there weren’t many ships that needed their life-rescuing, life-saving services, so the lighthouse devoted less and less time, energy and resources to actual lighthouse activities.  Its focus gradually shifted, and it soon became little more than a social gathering place for the village.  Villagers would drop by to chat with the lighthouse keeper.  On Friday and Saturday nights they would play Rook, or maybe strike up a band and have a dance, have a potluck dinner, and on occasion hold an ugliest-dog-in-the-village contest.

Before long, everyone had forgotten what the lighthouse’s initial purposes really were—radiating light in the darkness and being a life-saving station to sailors at sea.  And so, the light in the tower that gives the lighthouse its identity was allowed to burn out and it was not replaced.  Then when a ship crashed upon the rocks for lack of a warning light, the villagers were not prepared for the rescue.  The lighthouse had become a place to have fun.  But we all know that having fun is not what lighthouses are built for.

And strictly speaking, neither are churches.  Though we often do have fun at churches, and we should have fun at churches, we know deep in our hearts that having fun is not the primary purpose for which the church is built.  Like the lighthouse, the church has a high purpose and a high calling.  And every now and then it is good to take time to revisit what our high purpose is, for it is sometimes easy for churches to forget what their original and primary reason for being was. 

It was the Hebrew prophet Isaiah who first instilled the vision that one primary purpose of the people of God should be “a light to the nations.”   In fact, Eugene Peterson, in his contemporary translation of the Bible, The Message, renders the verse in Isaiah, “I have provided you as a lighthouse to the nations.”  Isaiah was speaking to God’s people at a critical time in their history.  There was political unrest and uncertainty, changes occurring in the world as they knew it, and spiritual soul-searching.  It sort of sounds like what is going on in our world today, doesn’t it?  But all of these changes also presented a wonderful opportunity for Israel to be a light to the nations by sharing the message of God, working for justice, and ministering to the oppressed.  Israel had an unprecedented opportunity to provide much-needed instruction, be a religious guide, and shed some light into the darkness of the world, and give hope to searching, wandering, suffering humanity. 

It is not surprising that Jesus drew from Isaiah’s “light to the nations” imagery when he exhorted his followers to be “the light of the world.”  Through personal and collective witness in the community; good works with the hungry, homeless, and poor through such agencies as ADFAC, Ecumenical Storehouse and TORCH; acts of compassion and kindness to the hurting, troubled, and grieving; standing on the side of justice for the oppressed and disadvantaged; and celebrative, transformative worship; we can and do shine forth much-needed light to the world. 

I am reminded of the sign that is said to have been on a lamp outside Albert Schweitzer’s jungle hospital in Africa.  The sign said, “Here in whatever hour you come, you will find light and help and human kindness.”  So it should be with the church, a light to the community.  Whoever comes to this Chapel on the Hill should find here light and help and human kindness.

To draw from the thought of Puritan preacher John Winthrop, in his sermon titled “A Model of Christian Charity” that he delivered to a group of Puritans as they crossed the Atlantic Ocean on their way to the Massachusetts Bay, “we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill.”  In other words, a light upon a hill; a light to the world.

This Chapel-on-the-Hill has a 75-year reputation of being a much-needed light on the hill for those in search of an open, inclusive, ecumenical, non-creedal, progressive community of faith.  How our fragmented world that is so divided down religious lines, racial lines, gender lines, and political lines needs a place like this Chapel-on-the-Hill and the light we have to offer! 

I have a true story to share with you that illustrates how this church has been a much-needed light and life-rescuing station for over 75 years.  So if there is a box of tissues nearby, you might get them ready.

One of our members, whom I promised would remain anonymous, shared with me a while back what a positive impact this United Church has had on their life.  And their exact words were, “This church literally saved my life.”  And after reflecting upon that comment for awhile, I wanted to know more, so I asked this person what they meant; if they would be willing to elaborate and allow me to share their story with you.  And this is what they said: “Several years back, I realized that I was losing Hope and was very Depressed.  Something was missing in my life, and I had several other issues that seemed insurmountable.  I hadn’t been attending church in over 35 years. There was not a church that I felt I could relate to, and experiences with church and religion in my early life did not remotely match up with my questions or any answers I had formed for myself about the Bible, Church and God.

“Jesus seemed like a compassionate man, one I would like to know more about, but he was connected with God and that made no sense.  The God of the Old Testament frankly was frightening and seemed to be controlling, not caring to those who are least.    And all [the talk] about sinners burning in Hell [was] very uncomfortable when you grew up in a family that had mental illness, alcoholism, and was totally dysfunctional. God and the Bible seemed dysfunctional as well.

“I just happened to drive by the Chapel on the Hill one day and had heard about it from a nursery school flyer.  I thought, At this point, what do I have to lose?  All the right words were on the church sign – Open to people from all denominations who meet in their differences but are one in their search for God.  And it seems like there was a sentence about uncertain of their faith as well.  So I came in hoping we wouldn’t be reading the Bible or having confession or an altar call, although I did enjoy the old hymns and they made me happy, even though I still wasn’t sure about God or if he really existed or if he was always a good guy.

“While sitting in that old chapel, listening to a sermon on forgiveness and compassion, I thought, Well, this doesn’t entirely seem like church, but it feels like it would be my type of church.  So I continued to come, I met many people, no one tried to call or come see me or pray me into the fold.

“I began to open my heart and let some of the sermons come in. It was very progressive in its thinking.  I found a family.  My family had for the most part passed away early in my life.  This church family gave me a feeling of purpose. I felt accepted as I am and not who I should be in the eyes of my perception of what a church believes.  This church wrapped their arms around me, they cared for me, and they loved me.

“I can never repay that moment I walked into the church for the first time and it gave me a chance to see the clouds ascending from my heavy heart.  The time a church became a family for a person who had lost their faith. 

“As for God, I understand him better now.  I love this church. I learned to be ok with myself and how to deal with grief . . . and that I could really have confidence in myself.  It was really what I needed, so I guess miracles do happen.”  Again, this person began their story by saying, “This church literally saved my life.”

This is a true story of one of our United Church members whose life was transformed – rescued, or saved, if you will, to use their own term.  And this story illustrates what the true purpose of a church is and what we should always be about:  A beacon of light to those who feel lost in the darkness; a life-rescuing station for those who feel shipwrecked upon the rocks of life; an institution with a reputation of extending a welcome, kindness, and compassion, and standing on the side of justice for the downtrodden.  Such is really what we are put here for.

So, may we continue to always have fun during our coffee fellowship times and the many special fellowship events throughout the year.  These are times for us to celebrate together. 

But may we also always hold true to our primary purpose and calling which put this Chapel here in the first place – to be a light upon the hill and a life-changing, life-rescuing station for the community around us.  May it be so for us as individuals and for this United Church now and far into the future.  Because that’s what we’re here for.  Amen.

 ¹C. Kirk Hadaway, Behold I Do a New Thing, pp. 7, 10.