“IN CHRIST THE WHOLE HOUSEHOLD COMES TOGETHER”

I love it as ancient scripture speaks in the now as fresh as the day it was written. Did you hear our seminarian Katherine Schofield read Psalm 126?  Here is what I heard:  “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Dennis Union Church, we were like those who dream. (OK, I fudged ‘Dennis Union Church’ in for the word ‘Zion’. So sue me.) Then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with shouts of joy. (Have you noticed the wide-eyed faces and giddy exclamations as folks get a load of this place? It is so cool.) Then it was said among the foreigners, ‘The Lord has done great things for them.’ (I heard this in the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as theatergoers sneaked in to explore this darkened room during the intermission of Eventide’s recent play.) The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced.”

That’s the sum and substance of this day. Pausing amid the chaos of moving into this dreamy new space.  Marking the great things God has done here.  Rejoicing with every iota of our being. A layperson questioned the need for this Celebration Sunday today.  Another heralded, “We earned this; we need it.”  Indeed if we didn’t pause to celebrate today, the very stones would cry out. So, yes, we thank able and dedicated lay leaders. Yes, we thank our community partners who have been wonderful. Yes, we thank our architects, builders, and other contractors. 

But make no mistake, God is the first shaker and mover here. In worship we celebrate God’s doings right before our eyes. So it is right to give God thanks and praise. For we dwell in the realm of miracles as we reflect on what God can do through humble lives  and  finite  resources  at  edge of a village green.  We  see hardened into reality how the little faith we venture and the fleeting hope we muster can be more than enough to do great things. Our cup runneth over! Yes, today is all about, “The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoice.”

The two Psalms, Psalm 126 read by Katherine, and Psalm 122 sung by our choir, are pilgrim songs of ascent. They are filled with deep longing on the part of God’s people to be finally home in the place that God made holy for them.  How perfect for this joyous occasion of celebration and rededication. How very perfect for us.

For I have never served a church so glad to be at worship on Sunday.  I have never known a congregation so happy to gather. If it was true before the build--when we couldn’t pause in the hall to greet one another without blocking others—it is even truer now. DUC is the happy, healthy, can-do congregation.  Believe it!

For it is not just the meetinghouse and church house that are enlarged. Our delight in welcoming friends and neighbors, old and new, is also enlarged. That is affirmed by 18 who today covenant anew as members of the congregation. Our capacity for sharing God’s gifts in Christ near and far has been stretched. Weeks ago I stood in that door and surveyed the meetinghouse. It was our first service worshiping here. The choir loft was full. The pews and balcony were almost full.   On that first day our numbers would not have fit within our former worship space.

A part of us might miss the quaintness of our old meetinghouse. It was charming.  But as storied as our history is, and as much as we value our pilgrim traditions, our best days are ahead of us.    In  truth,  to  be  a  vital  congregation  is  to  embrace  that conviction: our best days of our praise and service lie ahead of us. At DUC we had reached a point where we could no longer shoehorn the growing life of this vibrant congregation into our rustic country chapel. That difficult and obvious truth of our situation overcame our sentiment for the past. For a meetinghouse is more than a lovely antique museum; it’s first and foremost a platform for ministry.

Pause briefly with me, look around, and find six worshippers seated around you. Over the last two years we have received 81 new members. That means that one out of every six current church members has joined in the last two years.  What wonders might transpire in the next two years?  The next 20? The next 200?  We build with an eye toward the generations living here long after you and I are gone.  People will talk about this bold move we have made centuries from now.

Does this matter in the bigger picture? Absolutely, yes. Reflect on this with me. Most United Churches of Christ and most mainline churches are shrinking.  Many have closed. In 1979, when I was ordained, the UCC numbered 1.7 million. Now it numbers 1.2 million. So if the UCC churches that can grow (like Dennis Union Church) don’t grow, our distinctive witness of Christ-centered radical inclusivity is at risk. Does that matter?  I believe in that witness and so do you.  In the face of God-is-going-to-get-you-if-you-don’t-believe-like-us growing churches, in the face of clubbish-social-tribe growing churches, in the face of prosperity/success-based growing churches, our distinct voice of personal faith and social possibility is vital.

Some worry that DUC might lose the beautiful simplicity of its essential character. Friendly and direct; straightforward and unpretentious; full of God instead of self.  Some rightly fear if we embrace   marketing   techniques   and  take  on  some  kind  of religious consumer mindset to get bigger and bigger, all of this could be lost.  All I can say is, those are not our ways. Not during my watch as your pastor. To be sure, this move is not about becoming a larger church for bigger-is-better’s sake.  One telling sign is last year we gave $126,000 for outreach, near and far. We had never given as much as $100,000 before. All of that during construction distress.

But pastors come and go. And spiritual disciplines keeping us on track and true to our vocation always transcend this pastor or that. Permit me one observation.  As we moved back into this sanctuary, one of the first things we moved was the cross. We had it up before any number of other things in place that first Sunday.

Core values like these keep us on track. If we place Jesus and his cross, Christ crucified and resurrected at the center; if we build upon that and no other foundation (I Cor. 3.11), we have nothing to fear. Paul said as much to the church at Ephesus. He wrote, if you want to be the household of God, instead of one more consumer organization, take as your foundation the work of prophets and apostles.  Take as your cornerstone Jesus Christ. If this is your spiritual architecture, the whole structure will grow into a holy temple, rather than one more glossy monument to human folly. Faithful to divine designs over our own, God will dwell here. Isn’t that the whole point? Not some glitzy trophy of human success. But a faith-filled place where God’s Spirit descends and abides, transforming our lives.

It all began with getting right things most basic, with the impulse to fix crumbling foundations. The floor in here was as soft and spongy as a swamp. As our children bounced out, we feared sinking en masse to nether regions. The choir loft door wouldn’t work  because of  stress  on  the  frame.   Seth  and Jesse could jerry-rig beneath no more. Then we heard God call us to do more. We end with strong new foundations of prophets and apostles, even the cornerstone of Christ.

“Vision fulfilled,” reads the stone at the foot of the Yellowwood tree in the garden honoring Jesse and Brad.  Yes, vision fulfilled.  Well-done good and faithful servants, all of you.  I can hardly wait until the next waves of new vision rise up. Amen.