Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] September 12, 2021 “God’s Accomplishments” Ephesians 2: 8-10 – Common English Bible 8 You are saved by God’s grace because of your faith. This salvation is God’s gift. It’s not something you possessed. 9 It’s not something you did that you can be proud of. 10 Instead, we are God’s accomplishment, created in Christ Jesus to do good things. God planned for these good things to be the way that we live our lives. Deuteronomy 6: 10-12 – The Message When God, your God, ushers you into the land promised to you through your ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you’re going to walk into large, bustling cities you didn’t build, well-furnished houses you didn’t buy, come upon wells you didn’t dig, vineyards and olive orchards you didn’t plant. When you take it all in and settle down, pleased and content, make sure you don’t forget how you got there—God brought you out of slavery in Egypt. Rev. Peter Raible simplifies this text: “We build on foundations we did not lay. We sit in the shade of trees we did not plant. We drink from wells we did not dig. We profit from persons we did not know. We are ever bound in community.” As I stand here today, I can see a great cloud of witnesses who built this church. Standing, as I once did in a pulpit seven steps above the congregation, I can see Gladys Harris right in front. Mrs. Peacock in the back over there. Joe and Amelia Lawrence, a few rows forward. Tom and Lucy Creighton on the other side. Sadie Connally in her pink fur coat near the front. Keith Meagher. Ann Rickert. Mick Stafford, Hal Wofford, and many more than I can name. 14 years in one place means witnessing the end of life for many good and faithful servants, our great cloud of witnesses. 14 years also means lots of births and baptisms – 28 baptisms to be exact, plus a few more baby dedications. Remember the fall of 2019, just before the pandemic? We had 8 baptisms in three months. In addition, 19 young people have gone through confirmation. All of whom then went to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, some multiple times. If you can believe it, 60 people from Park Hill have gone to Pine Ridge at least once. I have been especially grateful for the opportunity to be with young people as their lives are shaped by these immersion trips, especially Leah Johnson and Daniel Hartman-Strawn. After multiple trips to Pine Ridge, Daniel dropped out of college, spent two years on the reservation and then changed his major to attend law school so he could focus on Native issues. There are about eight middle school students right now who are eligible for confirmation. I will miss introducing them to Pine Ridge. Among our dearly departed saints is Guy Harris whose vision is manifested in the labyrinth. He wanted to provide a spiritual resource for neighbors who would never walk through the doors of a church but might find solace in their grief or wisdom in their discernment by walking the labyrinth. David Conger saw his vision to completion, including spending every day supervising the construction. Going to the quarry to pick the rocks. Going to the nursery to pick the plants. Speaking of David, just to be clear not among the dearly departed, getting to work with and learn from him was like being in a master class as he oversaw capital campaign projects all over the church. Among them, think of all the walls that were removed. Standing in the narthex now means that instead of a closet wall I can see Faye Hudson and July Waldren walk up the steps to choir practice on Sunday mornings. Before the capital campaign, a guest walking into the church during the week would have encountered a literal brick wall separating them from a friendly face, like Tammy’s, in the office. Before tearing down a wall to convert a coat closet into a kitchenette, coffee hour was served on a table in the back of the sanctuary. I can see Kate Goodspeed carrying water back and forth from the little half sink in the common room. As soon as the hospitality area was created, the number of people who stayed for fellowship after worship doubled. While some like Euell stop there before going into the sanctuary, walking straight to the coffee pot. This sanctuary illustrates one of the most dramatic changes of the past decade. A floor that shimmers with light coming through the colored glass. A hearing loop underneath. You may not know that when we replaced the floor, the pews were supposed to go back in. But on the first Sunday after construction started, Bob Lederer sat in the temporary chairs arranged in a circle and went home that afternoon to begin convincing people we should keep the pews out. He reasoned, the feeling of worship was so much more intimate now that we could see each other’s faces. In one of the fastest significant decisions any church has ever made, five weeks later we decided to permanently remove the pews and purchase these chairs. My sister Judy donated this table to create a center for the sanctuary around which we would gather. The change had an immediate impact on growth. Worship attendance instantly increased by 20% and never stopped growing because with all those walls gone and worship now in this configuration, suddenly our space was in sync with our theology. Visitors could feel it. And Sunday School grew too. There was one more important wall to remove. In late 2013 we were approached about becoming an overnight site for the Women’s Homelessness Initiative. I knew it was exactly what we needed to do, but could we gather enough volunteers to make it work? I’ll never forget telling Karen Collier. It was a January morning, and we were walking down the street with Temple Micah as they moved to Park Hill United Methodist. It was a sad day, an ending to our 37-year relationship sharing the building. But on the day of an ending, WHI at Park Hill was born because Karen agreed to be one of the coordinators, and soon came Karen Truesdell and then Linda Siderius too. We had 77 volunteers that first year; 94 the year before the pandemic. I have many fond memories of Tuesday afternoons making up the cots with Flodie Anderson, Blake and Sheila, Nancy and Kerri and a whole crew. So that one last wall. Between the kitchen and fellowship hall, there used to be a clear delineation between server and those served, but with that wall removed, guests were welcome to come and go into the kitchen. It also meant we could see Carol and Linda serving their roast beef every month, Marlene and Janet mixing salads, Sean and Claire serving rolls. I’m so grateful for the regular overnight angels like Beth and Pat and Bill and Eileen, without whom the whole program wouldn’t have worked. I did the overnight shift a couple of times and boy did it throw off my next day. I can’t name all 94 people but thank you, and Jayme Willie for that very memorable carnival fundraiser for WHI. My time here began with the creation of a long-range planning team – the Long Rangers, led by Larry Ricketts and Kate. That’s when we developed our mission and core values. We simplified our governance structure. We created our mission partner program, which in 10 years has resulted in a quarter of a million dollars for 40 non-profit groups. And we engaged in a difficult, and at times unpleasant, time of discernment about owning a building or sharing one with a neighboring congregation. The church was in serious need of some major attention. It was necessary to actually make a decision whether or not to stay because many lacked confidence that we could raise even $100,000. You realize, however, that in the end approximately $1 million has been spent on this building since 2013. In addition to gifts and pledges, Ray Allen wrote a grant to Energy Outreach Colorado that resulted in over $100,000 in efficiency upgrades throughout the building. Montessori expanded. We had special projects for the labyrinth, solar panels, sanctuary chairs, and front doors. There were special designated gifts for boiler pumps, narthex and common room furnishings, fellowship hall carpet. Most recently, of course, about $40,000 toward the equipment needed for Park Hill 2.0. And to top it off, with a hailstorm, God provided a new roof. Twice! All this money flowed in and through thanks to the diligent and meticulous record keeping of Carol Spensley and Beth Harris. And of course, everyone who so generously contributed. It’s important to note that those projects were not done simply to improve the building for our members. We spent those dollars so our building could be used for mission. We invited Knitting 4 Peace to use offices upstairs rent free. We started welcoming any group whose mission was racial justice to use our building for free. Among them, Black Lives Matter 5280, the Denver Justice Project, and Soul 2 Soul Sisters. Speaking of Soul to Soul, among the most important ministries of the past decade, we asked Revs. Dawn Riley Duval and Tawana Davis to lead our congregation through a six-month engagement on white privilege. 30 people’s lives were changed and prompted the creation of our Racial Justice Ministry. I’ll always remember it was 2016 because our Saturday morning session in November was immediately after the election and we spent much of our time together crying. And the next day, our sanctuary was flooded with members and neighbors frightened for our country. We prayed for the intervention of the Holy Spirit to save us from an apocalyptic nightmare. And what a roller coaster of four years we shared – a ride we’re still begging to disembark. In the end, however, as we lived into the mission and core values we set years before, we became clearer about our identity than ever before. We invited people to join us to build a world that is open, inclusive, just, and compassionate. And they did join us, eventually from around the country! 14 years ago, Park Hill was in pretty tough shape financially. We had $917 in savings and a $40,000 loan for beam repairs. Sound fiscal leadership over successive governance teams means that today we have over $233,000 in the bank, including a new legacy fund named for our first pastor, David Colwell. But we weren’t just conserving. In the middle of all that, we also expanded our staff with the addition of Terri as our Minister for Congregational Care, a paid Sunday School teacher and handyman. And later added Zeke as our stream team tech and Damian with digital ministry, following more than a year with Mindee on staff. We’re among the largest contributors to the Rocky Mountain Conference and of course our many mission partners. We grew our savings even as we invested $10,000 in something called a relational campaign. It’s been wonderful to witness and walk alongside our leadership teams who embraced God’s abundance instead of fear and the myth of scarcity. 75 people participated in that relational campaign with Jenny Whitcher. It propelled us into a pandemic response that resulted in the creation of numerous groups that not only helped us stay connected but grew the congregation in the midst of our separation. No amount of gratitude spoken will ever be sufficient for the way Billie, Jeremy, Terri, and Tammy (working remotely from Texas!) responded to the challenges of the past 18 months and counting. Last week we thanked Mindee for her outstanding role with worship and online ministry. And this week I add Bill McCarron and Mark Winkel to the list of people who have spent days on end at the church, among other things, Bill stringing wires through walls and floors to permanently equip the classrooms with Zoom, and Mark working experiments to always keep improving the quality of the online worship experience. There are so many more things I could share. I wonder what you would add. But I want to end with one more dearly departed saint, Jane Van Buskirk. Jane and Inez were among the very first people I met at Park Hill. We met on the Tuesday before my candidating weekend to plan worship. I asked if we could have communion and Jane responded, “oh, that sounds so lovely.” From my first hours at Park Hill, I was then privileged to be with Jane among her last hours on earth. Knowing she would soon die, I asked how she felt about what was coming next for her. With high pitched clarity she said, “I’m optimistic.” Death is stalking congregations around the country. It is a difficult time to be optimistic about the future of churches. But for those who are not afraid, that see crisis’ as opportunities, who take risks for justice and teach unconditional love; for churches who embrace that Black Lives Matter, who believe science is real, who will fight for women to have the right to determine their own fate… Well, for Park Hill I am optimistic. And now this bold ministry will continue with new leadership. So, as we have, keep building on this foundation for others to come, So they can sit in the shade of trees we planted. Drink from wells they did not dig. And profit from you and I; persons they did not know. Again, as Paul told the Ephesians, these are not things to be proud of. 10 Instead, we are God’s accomplishment, created in Christ Jesus to do good things. God planned this to be our way of life. And to that calling we have tried to be faithful. Thank you for honoring me with the holy privilege and sacred responsibility of being your pastor and know that we are forever bound in a community that was, and is, and will continue to be.
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Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] September 5, 2021 “What Is Our Work?” Luke 4: 14-30 – Common English Bible If Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee, and news about him spread throughout the whole countryside. 15 He taught in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. 16 Jesus then went to Nazareth, where he had been raised. On the Sabbath he went to the synagogue, as he normally did, and stood up to read. 17 The synagogue assistant gave him the scroll from the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: 18 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord anointed me. And sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to liberate the oppressed, 19 and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. 20 He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the synagogue assistant, and sat down. Every eye in the synagogue was fixed on him. 21 He began to explain to them, “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled just as you heard it.” 22 Everyone was raving about Jesus, so impressed were they by the gracious words flowing from his lips. They said, “This is Joseph’s son, isn’t it?” 23 Then Jesus said to them, “Undoubtedly, you will quote this saying to me: ‘Doctor, heal yourself. Do here in your hometown what we’ve heard you did in Capernaum.’” 24 He said, “I assure you that no prophet is welcome in the prophet’s hometown. 25 And I can assure you that there were many widows in Israel during Elijah’s time, when it didn’t rain for three and a half years and there was a great food shortage in the land. 26 Yet Elijah was sent to none of them but only to a widow in the city of Zarephath in the region of Sidon. 27 There were also many persons with skin diseases in Israel during the time of the prophet Elisha, but none of them were cleansed. Instead, Naaman the Syrian was cleansed.” 28 When they heard this, everyone in the synagogue was filled with anger. 29 They rose up and ran him out of town. They led him to the crest of the hill on which their town had been built so that they could throw him off the cliff. 30 But he passed through the crowd and went on his way. Here we are, gathered on Labor Day weekend, the last hurrah of summer. At the beginning of the summer, we were full of hope and relief that we were finally approaching the other side of the pandemic. Just think, on Memorial Day weekend, we weren’t yet back in the sanctuary. We made plans assuming the cooperation of the general public, but instead of cooperation, bad behavior, even reprehensible behavior, has sunk as low as at any time during the pandemic. Health care workers were once hailed with the banging of pots and pans every night. Now they’re saving people who argue about Covid even as they go on oxygen. They’re worn out and angry, questioning their choice of profession. Today, even if for one day, we honor and celebrate them. And on this Labor Day weekend, ask, what is our work? School teachers and bus drivers have been made experimental subjects by ambitious politicians in search of poll numbers. I simply don’t understand how anyone can fight over keeping them and kids safe and legislate to guarantee infection. Different methods, yes. But a complete refusal to ensure public health? Today, even if for one day, we honor and celebrate them. And on this Labor Day weekend, ask, what is our work? Remember the term “essential workers?” People working checkout lines, stocking shelves, who wait on us, clean, cook, harvest, repair our utilities, deliver mail and packages, stand on the line to process meat, pick up garbage… Some in unions who have rights, and many who would love a 40-hour work week, but have to string together multiple jobs to survive, few with any benefits like health insurance. The “working poor” on whose backs the country depends to avoid collapse. And migrant workers in the hot sun but who have to hide at night. Today, even if for one day, we honor and celebrate them. And on this Labor Day weekend, ask, what is our work? So, I turn to our text today. Jesus returned home. News had spread throughout the land about his work as a healer and miracle worker. Throughout the countryside he was welcomed as a teacher in synagogues and, as it says, was praised by everyone. Naturally when he went to Nazareth, the people were excited. Everyone who had previously known him as simply Joseph’s son wanted a little taste of his fame. Do for us what you have done for them. On the Sabbath, the synagogue assistant handed him the scroll from the prophet Isaiah to read. You realize, of course, that he wasn’t handed a Bible that he could flip through and choose a text. You don’t flip through a scroll. He read from the scroll he was handed. It was from Isaiah 61: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because the Lord has anointed me. The Lord has sent me to preach good news to the poor, To proclaim release to the prisoners, To liberate the oppressed, And to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. As Phil Campbell said at Lunch and Lectionary on Thursday, that text includes lots of buzzwords that make progressive Christians smile, especially the liberation of the oppressed. To proclaim release to the prisoners, or as other translations say, release to the captives. That preaches well because we can write all kinds of sermons about that to which we are captive, from addiction to capitalism and white privilege. But I don’t know if you noticed, and I don’t know if the hometown crowd at the synagogue in Nazareth noticed either; Jesus added one line to his reading that isn’t in Isaiah. What did he add? It’s right in the middle. Release of prisoners “and recovery of sight to the blind.” Now, you might ask, what’s the big deal about that. He was a healer. Of course, if he was going to add anything, he would add healing. But that’s not the kind of blindness he was referring to. If it were, the crowd wouldn’t have ended this encounter with an attempt to throw him off a cliff. As an aside, Sharyl Peterson reminded us on Thursday that there are no cliffs outside the town of Nazareth. Luke used that for dramatic effect. It is, in fact, useful for us to imagine the extent of their rage that they would throw off one of their own, the boy about whom they had just expressed so much hometown pride. They were about to throw him off a cliff?! They just wanted him to do something special for them. So, he did. He accused them of being blind. And just in case they didn’t notice that line added to Isaiah, he added insults to their injury. He told them that God saved the widow from Zarephath of starvation but let the widows of Israel suffer the famine. He told them that the commander of the enemy army, Naaman the Syrian, was cured of his leprosy but not the many lepers in Israel. So, if they hadn’t noticed the line about blindness before, they saw it now. Again, they tried not only to run him out of town, but to throw him off a cliff. But through their blinding rage, they didn’t notice him walk right through the middle and off, not a cliff, but on his way. That’s actually one of my favorite lines in scripture. While everyone was so busy with their anger and overcome with rage, he calmly passed right through. Perhaps there’s a sermon in there for this pandemic rage we are living through. Imagine those scenes on the news of school board meetings and meetings of public health officials. Crowds so riled up, they’re frothing at the mouth. But imagine while in the middle of that, officials just get up to leave while the crowd is distracted by their rage, leaving them to look up and wonder what just happened. Yes, that’s pure fantasy, but sometimes we need to dream. And perhaps that’s the way we could deal with those who wish to get into arguments with us. So, for today, what might be our response to the blindness of which Jesus spoke? It is certainly to examine and confess our participation in the exploitation of all who labor for our comfort and who care for our needs. It is to ask, where does Jesus push our progressive buttons or make us uncomfortable? That’s where we will find the gospel. But here’s my other suggestion: It is to see the exhaustion of health care workers. We’re tired of all this division, but our work is to not turn a blind eye to their plight or of schoolteachers. It is to see the struggle of essential workers. And say something. They are enduring the unjustified angry onslaught of people who refuse the Common Good of our neighbors. We can’t just roll our eyes. We must speak up to support and to challenge. Not necessarily the science, but to remind the world that there is such a thing as a public good. How is it that we have lost sight of our role as members of a community? How is it especially that Christians choose to break the most important commandment of Jesus, our Lord and Savior, to love our neighbors as ourselves? As Jim Keck said at the beginning of pandemic, our role as Christians is to love our neighbors, not infect them. But we’re left having to pray to Jesus, please save us. Instead, I pray, Jesus, please help us recover our sight. Give us eyes to see the suffering of our neighbors. To not turn a blind eye. And so, on this Labor Day weekend, that is our work. Despite our exhaustion with this pandemic, don’t be sightless of workers on the front lines or voiceless in their defense. Friends and members of Park Hill, let me remind you: The Spirit of the Lord is upon you, because the Lord has anointed you, as Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah: To preach good news to the poor, (or rather with, and alongside) To proclaim release to the prisoners and all who are captive, To liberate the oppressed, to free those who are overburdened, And proclaim the year of our Lord’s favor – the time when justice has come. And yes, as Jesus added, recovery of sight to all who choose blindness to our neighbors, to neighborliness itself, and all who suffer. Look and see. In the time of transition now upon us, the temptation is to look inward, only inward. That is very important, but see it not as your only work. I know you understand. And therefore, I look forward to continuing to hear the news spread of how you are reimagining these words of Isaiah and Jesus for the days and years to come. |
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March 2024
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