Sermon: General Assembly 2005

More Than Enough
Amos 5:21-24

When we were little kids, our dad used to tell us stories sometimes. One of those stories has been coming back to me recently. It's the story of 19th century naturalist John Muir who one time — for some reason — picked his way ever so carefully out onto the rushing river just above Yosemite Falls — you know that massive California water fall that falls some 2400 feet down the side of a mountain. He worked his way out into the middle of the river just above the falls, leaned out over the edge — and looked down!

Now, I'm hoping this story is not coming back to me because the next six years of my life seem like John Muir looking down over Yosemite Falls!

No, I think it's because as I look ahead to the next six years, I can see that we are going to need to travel just that boldly for awhile.

A friend said to me when she heard about my nomination — it seems that in general church all we ever do is rearrange deck chairs on the Titanic.

Well, I say — to all my friends — if we are trying to float these waters in the Titanic, we will go down. If we are on a heavy-laden, class-divided, luxury liner, we had better lower the life boats. The Titanic is no ship for waters such as these. We need a light boat, a nimble boat, a bold boat.

Someone else said of my nomination, why would she want to captain a sinking ship? To which I say, what makes you think this ship is going down? It's not ours to let go down. This church is God's vessel, and I do not believe that God has abandoned ship.

Yes, the sky is cloudy. The waves are high. If we sit still in the middle of these waters, we will wallow in the troughs of the waves and be swamped by the watery chaos.

But, my brothers and my sisters, God did not abandon the universe to chaos in the first place but brought forth order. God did not abandon Noah to the raging flood. God did not abandon the disciples on the stormy sea but brought to them Jesus walking across the water. This same God will not abandon us!

We, however, do need to get our act together just a little bit if we are to survive this stormy sea.

Part of surviving the stormy sea means we have got to quit sitting still in the midst of the waves. We've got to take hold of the steering and point our vessel in to the waves.

It will be a bumpy ride sometimes. And we'll have to sail by instruments this night as the waves beat and the winds howl and the rains pour down on us and we cannot see the stars or the horizon to guide us. But, Church, God is with us now this night. And when the dawn breaks in the morning, when the storm is over, when we have kept our boat moving forward in faith, what a sunrise it will be!

When the sun comes up in the morning, we'll no longer be looking out over burgeoning walls of chaos. There before our eyes will be the great broad ocean of God's mercy — stretching to the horizon, an ocean fed by rolling waters of justice and ever-flowing streams of righteousness. An ocean where there is more than enough justice and righteousness for all.

To get to this broad place of God's mercy, of flowing justice and never-ending righteousness, we will need to engage in a discipline of hope. Hope with me, Disciples.

Believe with me, that it is possible to survive this night. We are the church of Jesus Christ — Disciples of Christ — with a mission in the larger Body of Christ — a particular mission for these times. We are a church whose time has come. Believe with me, Disciples.

In this 21st century, people respond more to an authentic word of faith than a dictate from a hierarchical authority. How perfect for Disciples! We encourage people to follow their own journey of faith, to read scripture for themselves and to pray deeply, to follow God's leading in their lives. Our individual faith journeys give us the authentic witness the 21st century longs for. We are a church whose time has come.

We cherish our individual faith journeys, but we do not travel alone. God has called us together into church — to be sure that our individual journeys do not carry us off into some wild and dangerous territory. As church, we love each other and challenge each other. We come together out of a desire for joyful community rather than a binding sense of duty. Its covenant, not hierarchy that unites us. We're "want to" people, not "have to" people. We are a church whose time has come.

We are a church with a network of international relationships stretching back more than 100 years. And we are a church, in this century, growing by leaps and bounds across a broad range of racial ethnic communities. In an ever shrinking world where people need to know how to communicate across culture, to find oneness even in the midst of beautiful diversity — we are a church whose time has come!

Believe with me, Disciples. Engage with me, in a discipline of hope.

As we journey toward that beautiful dawn on the ocean of God's great mercy, fed by rolling waters of justice and ever-flowing streams of righteousness, we will need to negotiate some narrow passages together.

We will need to learn to cut each other a little slack. On this boat we are steering together we have got to learn to say, "I'm sorry" sometimes. And we've got to find some forgiveness. And each and every one of us will have to go first. And if we just can't do it, then we'll have to ask God — every single day — for the will to forgive. We'll have to beg God for the grace to forgive. We've got to cut each other a little slack.

If we are going to steer together through these stormy seas and make it to tomorrow's golden dawn, we have got to start acting trustworthy — every one of us.

Yes, that means first and foremost anyone who wears a general church label, starting with the General Minister and President who has to balance budgets and be accountable to the whole church and communicate well with local congregations.

But being trustworthy involves every single one of us — including every church member talking about another church member behind their back out on the church parking lot — I know how we are sometimes, and we've got to quit. Sailing together through this night, in these waters there is not one of us who has time to be watching our back.

To get to that wide ocean of God's abundant mercy, we've got to go forward together, into the waves. We've got to believe we can do it. And we will do it. As bold, forgiving, trustworthy people working together, we'll get to get to that place where God is beckoning us, to that place of plenty, of mercy, of justice, of righteousness and hope, just as Amos calls us.

This General Assembly in this city is the perfect place for our passage to be read.

Around us here we can see the abundance in the images Amos has set before us. Let justice roll down like water, he says — like the mighty Columbia with its salmon runs, its power grid, it's wild, eye-popping beauty.

Let justice roll down like the Willamette with its many bridges, connecting the nations of the world, providing commerce and communication.

Let righteousness flow like the ever-flowing Multnomah Falls — just stand there sometime and watch that water splash and spray and flow and flow and flow.

Too often we read about Bible justice and think of our justice system — one person pitted against the other, scrambling for scarce goods. That's not what we're talking about here. We're not talking about barely enough.

The justice God calls for tonight, the justice toward which we point our ship this night, the justice God calls for through the voice of Amos, is not a little bit of justice. It is not so little we have to fight over it. No, God's justice is like rolling water, like the Columbia River, like Multnomah Falls — it's more than enough.

God's justice and righteousness is the image of the communion table — room enough and to spare. It's five loaves and two fishes feeding a crowd of thousands. It's Zacchaeus coming down out of a tree and finding fellowship and transformation before he ever said he was sorry. It's people coming from the north and the south and the east and west to commune together in the presence of the living Christ.

God's justice is fed by never-ending streams of righteousness — right relationship in the Hebrew understanding. God's justice is fed by love and mutual respect. We're called to the love and mutual respect of right relationship this night. Called to believe that it will carry us home.

Pastor Desmond Tutu has written a book called God Has A Dream. Now Desmond Tutu knows more about reconciliation — more about justice growing out of forgiveness and right relationship — has more hope — than almost any person alive. Desmond Tutu invites all of us to join in dreaming God's dream.

He invites us to join Jesus in dreaming — no really in proclaiming — that the realm of God is like a mustard seed starting from humble beginnings and then just taking over. To join Jesus who is the bread of life, in whom we will never again hunger or thirst. In whom we find more than enough. Who said as we treat the least of these our brothers and sisters, so we treat our brother Jesus. And who expects us to reach out to those brothers and sisters. To join Jesus who calls us to love God with all we've got and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

I am dreaming this night — and I implore you to dream with me.

Let's dream God's dream, Disciples. Where a simple table becomes a feast of life for all God's children.

Dream with me God's dream as spoken through Amos where justice rolls down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Dream with me, Disciples, as we point our church forward in faith. The water may be stormy tonight but if we can just ride these waves together for a little while, oh, what a sunrise awaits us — a sunrise of mercy and righteousness and justice and hope.

Let's go there. Where God's mercy spreads like the ocean. Where there's more than enough. Let's go there together, Disciples. Jesus is calling to us.