The Second Great End: Shelter, Nurture and Fellowship of the Children of God
The First Presbyterian Church, Charleston, W.Va.
February 24, 2007
John A. Bolt
Again, good morning. It’s an honor – and not a little bit intimidating – to be standing in this place at this time, but I nevertheless want to thank Bill and the Session for the invitation. If you hear some knocking coming through the sound system, don’t worry. It’s not some workmen who decided to get some extra work done around the dome on a Sunday morning, or some kids up in the choir room practicing their Orff instruments. The sound you hear is just my knees knocking.
And with that, please join me in prayer: Startle us, O God, with your truth and open our hearts and minds to your wondrous love. Speak your word to us; silence is us any voice but your own and be with us now as we turn our attention, our minds and our hearts to you, in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
The scene in today’s scripture lesson comes more than a week after the resurrection. Each Gospel has its own take on the post-Resurrection Jesus. Different people are involved, different timelines are given, each tells us something different.
For example, it’s in Luke that we hear the story of the Road to Emmaus, where two travelers were walking to Emmaus, talking about “the events in Jerusalem,” when they are joined by a stranger they only later recognize as Jesus – recognize him after he broke bread with them.
Mark doesn’t have much about after the resurrection at all. Indeed what we call the “shorter ending” is pretty blunt. “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (Mark 16:8) Then follow a few verses describing a couple of Jesus’ appearances and then He ascends to Heaven.
Matthew ends almost immediately after the Resurrection with the Great Commission which we heard last week.
And then there’s John, which has perhaps the most developed post-Resurrection picture. Indeed John’s story of the Resurrection is listed in all three years of the Lectionary for reading on Easter, with Matthew’s, Mark’s and Luke’s given as alternatives.
Some pretty remarkable things happen in John’s telling: Jesus appears in a locked room, then about a week later Jesus appears again to a Doubting Thomas. And we’re told that “Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.” (John 20:30)
Just before the scripture we heard this morning, it’s almost as if things have gotten back to normal. Seven of the disciples were hanging together by the Sea of Tiberius and Peter decides it’s a good idea to go fishing.
So they all jump in a boat and off they go for some night fishing. But they catch nothing.
Just as the sun rises, Jesus appears on the beach – but they don’t know it’s Jesus (do you detect a theme here?) He gives them some advice – throw your nets on the other side, he tells them. And they catch so many fish they can’t haul ’em in. That’s when “the beloved disciple,” presumably John, recognizes Jesus. This prompts Peter to jump out of the boat and run to the beach, leaving the other six to deal with all those fish.
When they all get to the shore, Jesus has a fire going and they cook breakfast, a nice breakfast of bread and fish, with their Lord.
Breakfast is done and over with. Some folks are probably cleaning things up. It’s been a long night of fishing, so maybe some are considering one of those post-breakfast naps that can be so refreshing. Things seem to have evened out, when Jesus turns to Peter with a not-so-simple question:
“Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” he asks.
“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
“Feed my lambs,” Jesus says.
But this conversation isn’t over. Jesus asks again, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
“Tend my sheep.”
It’s still not done: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
And now Peter can’t take it any more – Peter, the rock upon which Jesus has said he will build the church; Peter, the disciple who barged into the empty tomb to see for himself that the body was gone; Peter, the one who so loved Jesus that he ran across the top of the water – until he realized what he was doing – to greet him; Peter, who denied Jesus three times; this Peter is hurt.
You can hear the plaintiveness in his response: “Lord, you know everything! You know that I love you.”
“Feed my sheep.”
It seems pretty clear, I submit, that in this conversation is summed up everything we need to know about how we respond to Jesus’ saving death on the cross: If we love Jesus, we take care of the flock.
And it is this idea that is reflected in the second Great End of the church.
I was talking to my mother this past week and telling her I had been invited to preach here today. “What are you going to preach about?” she asked.
“The second Great End of the Church,” I said.
“Huh?” she said. “What’s that?”
Well, I am the stated clerk of the Presbytery of West Virginia, after all, and have been a clerk of session along the way, so you just know I had to trot out the Book of Order. You remember the Book of Order? It’s one of the two parts of the Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) – the other being the Book of Confessions, which I mentioned earlier.
Book of Order paragraph G-1.200: “The great ends of the church are the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind; the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God; the maintenance of divine worship; the preservation of the truth; the promotion of social righteousness; and the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.”
These originated with the United Presbyterian Church of North America, and have remained in our form of government through several reunions.
While these specific words date to 1910, Cliff Kirkpatrick, the current stated clerk of the denomination, describes them as “core values that have been part of our rich heritage for hundreds of years and that still are anchor points for our work and witness in the name of Jesus Christ today.” (Gonzalez 2003, viii)
Lib Caldwell, who by the way will be speaking from this very spot in a few weeks in the presbytery-sponsored Festival of Faith, says in her book on this particular Great End that, “The Great Ends of the church are missional statements meant to guide us as a denomination.” (Caldwell 2006, 66)
And they do.
I have had the privilege, since 2001, of serving on the denomination’s General Assembly Council. That is the body which oversees the mission – both domestic and international – of our denomination. In other words, it is the General Assembly Council which is responsible for the stewardship of those mission dollars sent from The First Presbyterian Church of Charleston, W.Va., the other 143 PC(USA) churches in the Presbytery of West Virginia, and the other 11,000 PC(USA) congregations in this country.
In this capacity, I have had the privilege and good fortune of being exposed to the many, many ways in which we provide shelter, nurture and fellowship to the children of God – in which we feed the lambs, tend the sheep and feed the sheep.
Let me just give you a brief glimpse at some of those.
First on that list these days has to be Presbyterian Disaster Assistance. Whether it be a tsunami in Southeast Asia, a hurricane on the Gulf Coast, civil unrest in Kenya, wildfires in California, church arson in New York, or even flooding in Southern West Virginia, Presbyterian Disaster Assistance very quickly has people on scene to help.
There are, of course, lots of organizations that do the same thing. The Salvation Army, the Red Cross, many if not most religious organizations – and many non-religious ones – have some arm that responds in these type of situations. But PDA brings something unique to the table. PDA is there for the long term.
In many of these situations, response is immediate and overwhelming. But like many immediate responses, they can be short-lived. PDA is committed to the long-term, to be there after everyone else has gone.
That’s why along the Gulf Coast today, you still see many of the blue Presbyterian Disaster Assistance signs in yards as lives are being rebuilt. Yes, it’s been 2½ years since the hurricanes devastated the Gulf, but there’s years and years of work ahead – just ask Margaret who returned just last Sunday from a week spent in New Orleans on a presbytery-sponsored mission trip. And PDA will be there.
(I should point out here that PDA of course receives contributions all year long, but one-third of the One Great Hour of Sharing offering, which is received here and in most churches on Easter, goes to PDA. The other two-thirds go to the Presbyterian Hunger Program and Self-Development of People.)
And I can’t leave PDA without talking about its offspring – the West Virginia Ministry of Advocacy and Workcamps.
When floods struck southern West Virginia two straight years just a few years back, so much PDA assistance came in, we in the presbytery couldn’t handle it effectively. So WVMAW was created as a tax-exempt group to administer the several hundred thousands of dollars in assistance, from others as well as PDA, and now is a continuing ministry in that part of the state helping people still recovering from those floods, or in need of housing repair. Last year, more than 50 work groups from around the country came to Southern West Virginia to work at WVMAW sites and more than that many have already signed up for this year.
Tend my sheep.
Another ministry I’ve been privileged to learn about is that done through our camps and conference centers. I’ve had the opportunity, especially, to learn about a place called Stony Point Conference center. It’s just up the Hudson River from New York City and has historically been a place where missionaries have been trained before leaving for the mission field, or stayed while home on furlough.
It has a bit different mission today, but one no less representative of the call to feed the lambs.
The director is a man named Bill Pindar. And just to show you how these Presbyterian connections work, Bill lived for a good bit of his youth in Colcord, WV, where his father was pastor of the Colcord Presbyterian Church.
These days, one of Stony Point’s missions is to provide a safe place for groups to meet. For example, it has been the site for a several years of a support group for New York City police who are still recovering from the emotional trauma of Sept. 11. It has been the U.S. home of several African tribal chiefs who have come to talk to oil companies about the damage the companies have done to their homes.
And it recently has been the site of a couple of retreats for gay teenagers.
Being different isn’t easy for any teenager. It’s hell on earth for a gay teenager, despite the bravado many of them may display.
At any rate, on the day one recent conference began, Bill watched as apprehensive parents stopped at the center’s entrance to drop off often equally apprehensive teenagers.
Bill says that as the meeting got under way, you could feel the tension and uncertainty in the air. No one knew quite what to expect. But as the conference came to a close a day or so later, the kids were just that, kids. They were having a celebration, enjoying new found friends, exchanging email addresses and the like. Doing what any other teens would be doing in that place.
One of the participants was standing next to Bill, and turned to him and said, “So, this place is Presbyterian?”
Bill answered, “Yes, it is.” For some reason, Bill was led further to ask the young man, “Are you?”
The response: “Yes, I am. And tonight I’m proud to be one.”
Whatever you believe about sexual orientation, you cannot deny that we are called to love one another, and this expression of unconditional love – as was on display that weekend at Stony Point Center – is at the core of our being faithful, is at the core of Jesus’ breakfast admonitions to Peter and is at the core of the mission of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).
Tend my lambs.
Any discussion of the work of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) that did not talk about foreign mission would be incomplete. The Presbyterian Church has a long heritage of activity in the mission field, something we know very well here in West Virginia – we only have to look up the road a bit to the birthplace of Pearl Buck to see the history of Presbyterians taking the good news of salvation throughout the world.
That still goes on today as there are more than 200 denomination-supported missionaries scattered around the world. Is as many as it used to be? No. Is it as many as we would like? No, again. Is it being de-emphasized? Not on your life.
Presbyterians are in Africa, Central and South America, Asia, the Middle East, Europe, Korea, working in the name of Christ – tending and feeding. They are doctors and nurses, teachers and farmers, even engineers and administrators, all using the particular gifts God has given them to shelter and nurture and fellowship with others, and making it clear along the way that they are there because they are following Christ.
There is so much more the PC(USA) is doing: more in education, more in helping the least of these, more tending, more feeding.
As I near the end of my six years of service on the GAC, I’m still amazed at every meeting I attend or report I read to learn about some other form of ministry and mission going on under the Presbyterian banner somewhere in this state, in this country and in this world.
Feed my sheep.
And it’s important to remember here something we tend of overlook or neglect, or just may not even know. We are a connectional church; we are not just a church on the corner of Leon Sullivan Way and Virginia Street in Charleston, West Virginia, making our own way in this world.
We are connected to 143 other churches in the Presbytery of West Virginia and 11,000 other Presbyterian congregations in this country. We are just a few of the 13,000 Presbyterians in this presbytery and 2.3 million in this country. And beyond that, connected to Reformed bodies around the world.
We are all together a part of the work of Presbyterian Disaster Assistance, Stony Point Center and worldwide missionaries and the hundreds, no thousands, of other missions and ministries happening somewhere at this very minute.
And just as we are a part of this wider church, so too the wider church is a part of, and enriched by, the work that happens in and through this place: the premier food pantry in the state, contained within these very walls; the support of missions such as Fellowship House and Rea of Hope, Religious Coalition for Community Renewal, Kanawha Pastoral Counseling, Daymark, Westminster Foundation, Covenant House; and the sheltering, nurturing and fellowship which happens here.
Now, I’m an old journalist, so I understand some of the reasons the following is true – and I can even defend it a little bit – but so often all you hear about the church is the aberration, the fight over this bit of theology, over that practice, the scandal in that corner, the mote in this eye. Or society’s gaze is focused on one particular flavor of faith, and doesn’t see the larger, wider spectrum of Christianity, especially our particular brand of reformed Christianity.
There are even some in our own Presbyterian family who seem determined to ignore all the good done and obscure it by focusing on the errors they see – but which others, others who are just as faithful, don’t even consider errors.
It’s time we focused, or refocused, our attention, and our gifts, on listening in on Jesus’ conversation with Peter.
“Peter, son of John, do you love me? John, son of Charles, do you love me? Margaret, daughter of Julia, do you love me? Perry, son of George, do you love me? Barbara, daughter of Eleanor, do you love me? Scott, son of Joe, do you love me? Kristen, daughter of Sherry, do you love me?
“First Presby, children of the covenant, do you love me?”
“Lord, you know everything! You know that we love you!”
“Then shelter, nurture and provide fellowship to my children!’
To God alone be the glory, amen!
Please join me in prayer: Good and gracious God, you make it very clear that your love and grace is unconditional: given, not earned. How can we help but respond to such unmerited love but with love of our own? And, because we love, you have told us, we must feed and tend your sheep. May it be so; amen and amen.
Caldwell, Elizabeth F. Shelter, Nurture, and Spiritual Fellowship of the Children of God. Louisville, KY: Witherspoon Press, 2006.
Gonzalez, Catherine Gunsalus. Proclamation of the Gospel for the Salvation of Humankind. Louisville, KY: Witherspoon Press, 2003.