Surveying the Harvest

Congregational Council Meeting meditation
by Carrie Eikler
Luke 10:1-3

One of the side effects of pregnancy that isn't as universally known as pickles and ice cream cravings, or hormonal mood swings, is the side effect of sleeplessness. Now this hasn't been too big of a problem for me at night, but it has affected one of my most coveted and highly protected times of my day. Sebastian's naptime.

The equation is simple. Sebastian sleeps, I can sleep. Ask Torin. If I have to miss my naptime with Sebastian, ergo missing my naptime all together…ooo, you better watch out.

My sleeplessness has been hitting me at these important times. Lying in bed after lunch I might snooze five minutes but then I'm awake, staring at the ceiling. This isn't all bad, because it means I've caught up on some reading I've been meaning to do. As I lay in bed, refusing to get up and do something "productive," I force myself to continue resting and read. My most recent book is one that I've been meaning to read since it came out last year. Do you ever read one of those books that when you are done, so much of your life is filtered through what you've just read?

Well, that book for me has been Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, a nonfiction book about the author's attempt with her family to eat only produce and meats that were grown within a 100 mile radius of her Virginia farm. Most of this food came from their own garden, and the rest supplemented by farmer's markets and other local economies. It was an experiment in becoming "locavores."

Now you may not have heard of a locavore, and where they rank with the more common carnivore, and omnivore, and herbivore. A locavore is a new word that has recently been coined, and actually was voted 2007 Oxford Dictionary word of the year. Locavores are people who try to eat as locally as possible. Kingsolver's attempt to be as “locavorious” as possible brings to her reader's attention the impacts of our current industrial food model on our environment, our relationships, and our health. She also uplifts the joys and challenges of reconnecting a disconnected people with the earth, and the satisfaction of enjoying one's own food.

As I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle in tandem with preparing for a meditation for today's worship, I came across the perfect scripture. Actually, I came across the perfect scripture that was misquoted by Kingsolver. She reflected on the bountiful harvest season of mid-summer: "By mid-month, we were getting a dozen tomatoes a day, that many cucumbers, our first eggplants, and squash in unmentionable quantities. A friend arrived one morning as I was tag-teaming with myself to lug two, full bushel-baskets of produce into the house. He pronounced a biblical benediction: 'The harvest is bountiful and the labors few.’ I agreed, of course, but the truth is, I still had to go back to the garden that morning to pull about 200 onions — our year's supply…The harvest was bountiful and the labors were blooming endless."

Knowingly or not, Kingsolver's friend, while perhaps aptly surveying the situation, said that "the harvest is bountiful and the labors few." Well, as we have heard this Lukan scripture read today, as Kingsolver's exasperation indicates, and as all of us who have done the work of the church, or the work of the garden, or the work of any good cause can attest to…the harvest is certainly bountiful, but it is the laborers, that are few, not the labors. The labors are many. The labors are overwhelming. The labors are…laborious.

When I told both Cindy Lewellen and Torin what our scripture was going to be today, they both laughed. I'll admit, it is sort of funny to bring to the business meeting of a small congregation the scripture of Jesus sending out seventy newly appointed disciples into the world, like lambs into the midst of wolves. But I don’t mean for it to be funny. I don't mean to just say that there is much work to be done and not enough of us to do it. I don’t mean to just say that even though there are few laborers, God sends us out into the harvest anyway. I don’t mean to just say those trite little interpretations.

I mean to say all of that… and. I mean to say that the complexity of a ministry in a world in which there is so much that needs to be done, so much that can be done, so many more places to reach out to than our energy, and numbers, and money can support…all of that, it is not unique to us.

When Jesus sent out the seventy, two by two, he admitted this was the way. If you want to do my work, it won't be easy. Jesus sent each pair out to the towns that he himself would go. They were meant to pave the way, to prepare the people, to give a glimpse of what was to come.

It can seem like the way would be easier if we were a bigger church with more members, more money, more recognition. But I bet that even the biggest churches, with thousands of people, and huge popularity, aren't content that they are doing all they could do. I bet that each individual here, wonders what more they could do, and also wonders where they will get the energy and time to do it.

The harvest is bountiful, and the laborers few. I don't think it's meant to be a fatalistic prediction-that somehow we can keep trying and trying and the work will never be done. But it does call us to know ourselves, to know our harvest, to know our laborers. And it does call us to ask the Lord of the harvest to send us out into the fields.

Our laborers are not the same as another church's. The harvest is plentiful, but perhaps the field is different. What works for the industrial organic growers of California who will send their produce 1500 plus miles across the country will not work for the small gardens of the West Virginia hillside that supply the farmer's market.

The harvest is bountiful, and the laborers few. It is not a prediction, but an understanding. God understands who we are, and what we have to work with. And God says that doesn't matter. What matters, is how we are going to give a glimpse of Good News. It's not a matter of numbers, either membership or monetary. It's a matter of doing the work we are each called to do, with the vision and abilities and means we each have.

It’s about letting the little ones dig up the potatoes, and the tall ones stretch up to get the highest pole beans. It’s about surveying our harvest, surveying ourselves, and asking how can we do this the best we can. Some onions may be left to rot in the ground and some tomatoes may never be canned. But we keep going back out into the harvest, learning more about who we are, and how we can be the most faithful laborers for the work of God that we can be…being faithful stewards of God’s harvest.

The harvest is bountiful, and the laborers few. It’s not a resignation. It is an invitation. It is now time for us to respond to the invitation as we ask ourselves “what is our field?” “who are our laborers?” “what can we give?” The answer doesn’t need to be spectacular or far reaching. It only needs to be honest, and faithful.

Boiling it Down

sermon by Torin Eikler
Matthew 22:15-22 I Thessalonians 1:1-10

Last week Carrie spoke to us all about the nature of community and its importance in the life of people of faith. I suspect, however, that most of us remember it as a sermon about money, and that’s not surprising given our general reluctance to speak about our own income and spending habits and the current climate of fear surrounding economic issues. In fact, a recent survey conducted by the American Psychological Association quantifies, to a degree, America’s absorption with finances. Fully 80% of us acknowledge that we are stressed out about the economy and our personal finances. Half of us are worried about how we will provide for our families’ basic needs or the stability of our employment. 52% report laying awake at night worrying about these issues, and two-thirds of Americans find themselves generally angry or irritable all the time.

The news is full of the wide swings of the stock market, and people seem to be unusually well informed about the successes and failures of the $700 billion bailout strategy. Just last Friday, Carrie and I were at dinner on the way to the Allegheny Conference Pastor-Spouse retreat, and I overheard the conversation at the table behind us. The multigenerational group was talking about the credit market, dwindling retirement funds, and the challenges of living with $4 gasoline. Not surprising, you think? But it is surprising. We may have gotten used to this type of conversation, but six months ago – even two months ago – these kind of conversations were not put on the table along with our hamburgers and chicken parmesan. They may have been common place at the lunch tables of financiers and investors, but I truly doubt that they were a regular part of any of our lives at any time.

Money, it seems, has found its way to the center of our lives and our conversations in a way that it hasn’t been before for most of us.

Of course, money has probably been at or near the center of our lives all along if we’re honest. It has just been hidden in midst of other issues. Carrie and I have often discussed how much of our income we want to designate for savings or giving. And the relative amounts we want to spend on gifts or travel or entertainment was a regular part of our lives – from the annual budget planning we do to our vacation decisions and all the way up to our daily decisions about what to buy at the grocery store. Others, I know, have to balance the cost of activities for our children, our cable subscriptions, and the temperature we choose for our thermostats. What has changed is that money has moved out of the shadows and into the open. No longer content just to be present, it has taken center stage at the coaxing of Wall Street investors – a group of people always looking for a new way to make money – and the government bureaucrats who work at balancing their effect on the overall economy.


Another time in another place, money was put on the center stage by another odd pairing – Herodians and Pharisees. These two groups were usually at odds with each other. The Herodians were content to work with the occupying government of the Romans whatever they were asked to do – as long as there was something in it for them. The Pharisees were concerned much more with doing and saying the right things whether that was in keeping with Roman preferences or not. You can imagine that each group probably looked down on the other and the way of life they had chosen.

Jesus, however, had become enough of a phenomenon among the Jewish people that were an integral part of both the Herodians and the Pharisees respective interests. His message and mission were interfering with the balance of power in upsetting ways. And that, it seems, was enough to get these two groups working together in order to protect the status quo.

The solution they came up with was ingenious. Ask Jesus a difficult question in front of the crowds that followed him and force him to take a dangerous (perhaps even deadly) position. “Teacher, … tell us … Is it lawful to pay taxes to the Emperor, or not?”

The question was perfect. If Jesus said “yes,” he would be allying himself with the Herodians (and most of the people for that matter) in conflict with some of the teachings of Jewish tradition. In that case, his religious orthodoxy and his authority to teach “the way of God in accordance with the truth” could be questioned by the Pharisees. If, on the other hand, he said “no,” he would be taking the righteous road advocated by the Pharisees, but he would also be openly defying the empire. The Herodians could then denounce him as a dangerous traitor seeking to start a rebellion, and he would probably be imprisoned or exiled (and maybe even executed).

Not a bad strategy actually. But, as usual – at least according to the Gospel of Matthew – Jesus found a way out of the trap … and not just any way. The answer Jesus gave not only avoided both pitfalls, it turned the tables on both groups, challenging the assumptions and compromises they had made in order to survive under the occupation.

“Give [to] the emperor the things that are the emperor’s,
and to God the things that are God’s”
(or in the more familiar King James version,)
“Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s,
and unto God the things that are God’s.”


When I was in high school in N. Manchester, I had a very intelligent but also fairly sheltered friend. And, when we were discussing this passage in youth group one Sunday, he shared that he had never really understood what it meant. “What,” he asked to a good deal of undeserved laughter, “did paying taxes have to do with making glue?” You may think that a strange question, but it really does make sense. My friend had spent all of his life living not too far from a rendering plant, and his only reference for the concept of rendering was the processing of animals into glue and other useful products. Once he learned that “render” also means “give” (as the newer translation makes clear), he quickly understood and took our discussion to a deeper level with another question: “but doesn’t everything belong to God?!”

What it all boils down to, you see, is a simple question of faith and perspective. God, our God, is the creator of all of this world. The beginning and the end of all things. The Alpha and Omega as some eloquent poets put it. In a very real sense – perhaps the most real sense – doesn’t everything belong to God?

That is the question that spoke into the minds of the men who sought to catch Jesus in a trap. That is the question that sent them walking away from him in amazement pondering the answer and what it might mean for them – finding within themselves, I hope, the courage and honesty to acknowledge that “Yes” is the answer to that question asked by my astute friend and implied by Jesus’ own answer.

From that perspective things begin to take on a different look – both the things that make up our lives and the things that we accumulate during them. It all belongs to God, and our task as followers of Christ is to find ways to use those things which have come into our possession – talents, knowledge, and energy as well as money – according to our best understanding of God’s will. And that is not always as easy as it sounds.


We have spent our whole lives, most of us at least, learning a different path from our parents and our society. We have learned a work ethic that keeps us going, going, going … always seeing new things that need to be done. That, in itself, is not bad thing though it can become dangerous for us if we lose the ability to relax and retreat, finding some quiet space within ourselves to commune with God and listen for guidance and inspiration for our living. That same work ethic tends to bring us a certain amount of wealth with is not a bad or evil thing either. But money brings its own challenges. We have been taught that we need it for security and happiness, and no matter how much we know that isn’t true, it is so very hard to let go of our hold on it. As Jesus once said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” And, do not fool yourselves. We are all rich.

We have so much wealth surrounding us that we never really feel that way. Survey after survey tells us that people in America tend to think that life will be easier and they will be happier if they just have 10% more – give or take a bit. But, we have much more than we need.

There are people in this country whose personal wealth is greater than most of the countries in the world. There are more who own more than one home, and most of us have homes that are much bigger than we really need for comfort, let alone survival. Even having the means to own and operate a car places us on a level far above that of about 93% of the people living in this world. And yet, we still feel, somewhere within us, that somehow we need more. Somewhere along the way – a long time ago, I think – we have lost a true sense of what is enough. And, given the way that we look to money to make our lives better and happier, we have clearly put our faith in wealth as much as, if not more than, we have in God.


Now please hear me, I do not say all of this to inspire guilt. Nor am I seeking to take a position as somehow “holier than thou.” Sadly, I am as caught up in the desire for more as any of you with my dreams of flat-screen TVs, hot tubs, and travel to far away places. It is simply true that we are all struggling to hold onto the right perspective and to place our faith in the right place. And that is truly a very difficult thing to do. Even Peter, the rock of the church, despaired when he heard Jesus’ judgment on the rich young ruler, and his words echo the frustration in our own thoughts – or at least mine. “Who, then, can be saved?”

Yet, Jesus response echoes down the ages as well, offering hope: “for God, all things are possible.” If we put our faith in God, then we can find a way forward out of the grip of desire and back into the kingdom of peace, justice, wholeness – and enough. Easy words to say, I know. Much harder words to live as all of us can attest.

It’s such a big thing. How do you do it? Where do you look for a place to begin? What would such a life even look like? I don’t know, but wiser people than I have told me that we can start anywhere.


What, for example, is enough? I recognize, as do we all, that it is not really possible for anyone to live on a few dollars a day in this place at this time. The United States is just too expensive a place and too harsh an environment to live on so little. So, what do we really need to provide shelter and food and health care for ourselves? Is $30,000 dollars a year enough? $45,000? $60,000?

I realize that different circumstances present different needs, but let’s take a family of four – two adults and two children – as an example. Currently, a 3-bedroom home with 2 bathrooms in Morgantown would require at least $8,500 a year in mortgage payments, assuming there was no down payment. The average cost of utilities adds about $3,000. Reasonable health insurance can easily cost $12,000 if it’s not provided by an employer. Food for four, healthy food even, can be had for about $11,000 a year but lets say $15,000 just to be safe. And the cost of owning and operating a vehicle to get to work and food (though I realize that there are other ways to get around) would be about $10,000 give or take a couple thousand.

That puts us at about $50,000. I think we could probably get by on less pretty easily if we were pressed to do so. Many of us probably live quite comfortably on less than that. $50,000 per year is a lot of money. $30,000 is a lot of money for many people in the United States.

What would happen if we limited ourselves to living on no more than $50,000 per year or its equivalent value in benefits? Certainly many of us would have to make some choices about what things and activities to give up. We might have to move to smaller homes, and we may even have to move closer to where we work and shop. But, think about what we could do with the extra money we have left over.

If just two families had an extra $3,000 that they decided to give to the church, we could double our witness budget. If a few of us made an extra $20,000 to put toward a special project, we could make a very good start toward becoming accessible for people who have difficulty with steps. If one or two of us had even more left over, what amazing ministries could we start or support? What messages of peace, love, and justice could we offer to the community? What dreams would come to us as we listened for our part in God’s dream for the world? And, what would the example we make of our lives and our faith community speak into a world that has lost touch with enough.


We could do so much to support each other and work for compassionate justice in the world if we committed to a spending ceiling and dedicated the rest of our money to the dream of God’s Realm. The money wouldn’t even have to come through the church. It could go anywhere and it would change the world. And it doesn’t have to be just our money either. Our gifts and our time are equally important if harder to quantify.

I know that it is never easy to change well learned habits in our lives, and how we deal with money is one of the hardest of all because we put so much faith in it. Yet, in the end, it all boils down to the question faced by the men who challenged Jesus some 2000 years ago – a question we still face today: do we put our faith in money, talent, education, hard work, and all that they can accomplish, or do we put our faith in God and all that God has promised us?

Investing in Each Other

sermon by Carrie Eikler
Philippians 4:1-9
Exodus 32:1-14

I don’t know about you, but I have been very interested in the past couple of weeks in catching the presidential and vice-presidential debates. I didn’t see the first one, since Torin and I were in New Windsor for the BVS anniversary reunion. But I have to admit, the Thursday of the vice-presidential debate a few weeks ago, it was what I looked forward to all day. I couldn’t wait to sit down, turn on the radio and just hear what happened.

Perhaps I was wondering if Joe Biden could control is often rambling discourse, or wondering if Sarah Palin would do something dreadfully embarrassing. I admit, I listened with relish to see how each candidate might mess up, put a foot in their mouth, or not answer the questions with lots of diversions, “you betchas” and references to Scranton, Pennsylvania. Quite a cynical attitude, I’ll admit.

But this last Tuesday, when Barack Obama and John McCain debated, I listened more intently for the content, especially to the questions that came from the audience in the town hall style meeting. And while issues of foreign policy, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and climate change were all addressed, it was clear that what was on people’s minds hit immediately and close to home: the economy.

The very first question was this: "With the economy on the downturn, and retired and older citizens and workers losing their incomes, what's the fastest, most positive solution to bail these people out of the economic ruin?" And the second question wasn’t much different.

To give the often spoken and certainly cliché response that the candidates gave during the debates: these are difficult times we are living in.

Torin and I have been reflecting, like many recently, on how the economy is affecting us. Luckily we live in a parsonage that you have provided for us, so there is no worry of the mortgage crisis affecting us, or the church for that matter since the house is paid for. We certainly have rethought our driving habits, particularly how many visits we can make to family who live far from us. We're wondering how much to spend on Christmas gifts…

But, honestly I don’t know what our pension through the church is looking like, or the state of my IRA that my dad keeps putting money in to even though I’m working, just because he knows we don’t “make all that much,” or the state of our small investments in mutual funds. So, maybe we take fewer trips to Black Bear Burritos or Apple Annie’s, but other than that, I feel pretty oblivious to the economic affect on our family.

Maybe I don’t see it because there was a wide safety net knitted for us by our parents. Perhaps because Torin and I have chosen to live a relatively simple lifestyle. Perhaps I’m just naïve and trust that the future will come and all the habits that I’ve cultivated up to now will help support me. Perhaps I’m far better off than I want my humble self to admit.

Wow, is that weird for you to hear all that? It was sort of weird to say it all. But hey, in two weeks you are all going to have in front of you our church budget which includes voting on our salary and benefits. Since you all know how much is coming to us, I might as well share with you some of the places it goes. If I were to ask you how the economy is affecting you, to stand up in church and share with those around you, or to ask you to put your annual salary on the table for everyone here to see, what would you do?

I’ve enjoyed listening to National Public Radio’s segment on Sunday called “Soapbox” where people write in with reflections on how the economy has affected them. As I reread through the stories online, I wondered how those of us here might connect with these people’s stories.

One woman wrote: “How has all this affected my life? It has forced me to live more simply. Gas prices forces me to stay closer to home. I'm saving more/spending less. With my home value down, there's no equity in my home, forcing me to pay cash for all the maintenance an equity line usually helps to pay. I also have 2 daughters currently in college -- they are totally dependent on student loans, so I'm concerned if they will be able to continue....I hope after the election is over the US economy will start to stabilize itself and we can begin the climb out of this mess that greed and arrogance put us.”

Or how about this one: “The downturn is more subtle and more gradual for me. I retired in 2000. According to several projections, my wife and I had enough saved to live to 100. Two years later, we needed to die by 90. Three years after that it was 85. Now it's 83 and we're not that far away. Where are you when we need you, Dr. K? (I’m assuming he refers to Dr. Kevorkian, the man who advocated medical assisted suicide)… We're really sick at heart over the Paulson Plunder and the Bush Bailout…How could our supposed representatives have fallen for this pathological liar once again?”

Do you notice a pattern here? They begin, as many did, with the reflection on how the economy has affected them, some more drastically than others, and they end with anger and accusations, likely properly aimed, at Wall Street, the White House, and our representatives. It's a common story of sacrifice, fear, and greed.

It would be ridiculous to assert that the economy is NOT affecting us in our congregation. Perhaps the only way we will see it among us is by examining our offerings, especially as we each discern how our families will contribute to next year's budget. It is also inaccurate to say that is affecting us all in the same way. Some of us are feeling it harder than others. Some of us might have small worries. Some of us might have sleepless nights. Looking out at you all, I can't say who is who.

But I think it is accurate to say that how it affects us is not something we want to share with our faith community. And why is that? Maybe it’s because money is not considered an appropriate topic for church, except when we ask it from you during offering and as we approve the budget. Perhaps because money so intertwined with our identity that to put the topic out for discussion is a little too personal.

Maybe it is like this story on Sunday Soapbox that solicited a huge response. Melissa Parker and her husband, like many young couples, bought a $285,000 home with an adjustable rate mortgage. And now they are in dire straights. Along with their regular bills of health insurance, utilities, fuel for two cars, and student loans, they are at risk of losing their house that is now worth approximately $135,000 less than when they bought it. Melissa Parker said they didn’t factor in the cost of home owners insurance, sewage, property taxes, all the things that go into home ownership. “And” she said, “We just ignored how horrible of a loan we were actually getting.”

Now when she shared her story, there were few responses blaming Wall Street, or the White House, or Congress. Most of the responses sounded like this: “I'm sorry the lady in Sacremento may lose her home; that said though...What the heck did she expect! Who in their right mind would buy a $285,000 home before they paid off student loans etc? Get real. Too many folks with no business getting home loans are crying now because they may lose them. Tuff. That's how a market adjusts.”

Here’s another response. “The Parker's sound like typical materialistic yuppies that want to impress with their stuff. Now they are paying the price. Sooooo sorry.

This was my favorite response. “Mrs. Parkers story was amazing. I really couldn’t understand two college educated people not realizing that you had to add in the cost of your taxes, insurance and utilities when you are thinking about your house payment.. Americans have come to believe that it is their right to own a home whether they can afford it or not and by goodness, they are going to do it no matter what and right now. I don’t expect to be too badly affected by this. I sold my home in 2006… I can rent far better than I ever owned…I drive my 20 yr old Mercedes that only cost $2500 cash and never breaks. We have no credit cards at all and neither of us ever have.... We live within our means..... I cannot imagine being in the kind of debt Mrs. Parker and her husband are in."

Hmm. So why don’t we talk about our personal economic issues in church or with others in our congregation (unless, of course, they are family members)?Perhaps with the finger pointing at Wall Street speculators, deregulating politicians, etc. we worry that someone might point a finger at us. Maybe it’s partially my fault for enjoying eating out so much, or being dependent on my car, or buying a house I really can't afford. Maybe I already feel both like a victim and a greedy spendthrift, and don’t want anyone else to remind me of either position

If we are honest we fear we might receive responses like those responding to Melissa Parker. Judgments. Tisk-tisking of the tongue. Let's face it, Brethren and Mennonites as well as other socially-conscious people of faith who have traditionally prided themselves on simplicity and non-materialism are not often the most understanding people when it comes to middle class woes, even though most of us tend to suffer from them.

But before we start wondering who is living within their means and who isn’t, it may be well to remember that all of us are living beyond our means. No matter if you can make your mortgage payments. No matter if you never drive and bike all around. No matter if you share one job with your spouse and try live simply so you can raise your child yourself. No matter if you grow your own food. As we have been exploring in Sunday School class, if you are American you have a golden calf.

It’s not too clear why the Hebrew people built a golden calf. Perhaps out of desperation. Perhaps out of boredom. Perhaps out of good intentions, but bad motivations.

Perhaps after reading this story in Exodus, we might worry that not only is our church family and neighbors judging us, but God.

In our case, could God be saying to Moses, “Go down at once! Your people, whom you built up from humble beginnings, have been quick to turn from me! They purchase unatainable mortgages for huge homes they don’t need! They live their lives on credit! They make gods out of their cars! Now, get out of the way as I smite them with economic crisis, predatory lending schemes, and unemployment!”

Now whether or not you see God as a being who works this way, I bet you wish there was a Moses in our midst who could change God’s mind, as he did with the Hebrew people, or at least change the outcomes of what has been happening. We are now forced to confront what we do with this golden calf in front of us.

Today many Churches of the Brethren are recognizing World Mission Sunday, where we reacquaint ourselves with the call to continue Jesus’ work by joining in God’s mission in the world. It seems to me that in our case, we are far more eager to look to the rest of the world as a receptacle of our service and money, and less likely to look among us. And I don’t mean in our town. I mean look at the needs of those of us sitting in the pews.

Do we know one another’s needs? Do we know the financial hardships that some of us are facing? Who has anxiety over loans, mortgages, 401 Ks? Who is living on beans and rice, not because More with Less is their favorite cookbook and they decided to become vegetarian and it’s what they want to eat, but because their grocery money includes only must haves. Who doesn't have health insurance and is anxious about the upcoming cold and flu season? Do you know? Or rather, do you really want to know?

Or perhaps, a simpler question: How many here have had another person or family in this congregation over for a meal at their house in the last year? And I don’t mean your immediate or extended families. As we gathered around the communion table last Sunday, perhaps the next step for becoming the body of Christ—among us—is to gather around each other’s kitchen tables once and a while.

Now I’m not suggesting we go to each person’s house with all our financial records and lay them out on the table. But I am suggesting that by finding those ways to connect with one another, to be closer to one another than on this pew and that pew, then maybe we can do more to build up our faith community than any number of Sunday worships can do. When we really start to know each other, when we know more about each other than what we feel is appropriate for church.

Obviously worship is a place to join together and praise God and we hope, be spiritually fed. I like how the Eugene Peterson’s translation in the The Message conveys day’s text from Paul: “Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! 6-7Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

But Paul doesn’t just say rejoice and pray. He continues on, again in Peterson’s translation “Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.”

In these small communities that Paul was supporting it is clear that he had a vision of building the kingdom of God. Maybe that’s the difference between the faith community and all the other communities we are a part of. Here we can work for what is true among a small group of people. We can share what we have, based on relationships, not on guilt. This can be the practice ground for creating the kind of world that Jesus spoke of, this can be the place where we are intentional about crafting the kingdom, as idealistic and anti-capitalistic it may sound: where we can all confess our golden calves, where God's will is done, and debts are forgiven…or at least debtors are helped along by the faithful.

Because let’s face it, the world is a big place. There are many needs out there that we have all been committed to. But we are about, what, 80 people? If we aren’t taking care of one another, how can we take care of the world out there? Are you willing to invest in each other? Are you willing to have someone over, even if they live in another part of town, even north of the state line, and just see what happens when you extend the communion table to the kitchen table?

And if we think that money isn't an appropriate topic to speak about with our church family, then we are ignoring a huge part of Jesus' words. Jesus talked about money more than He did Heaven and Hell combined. Jesus talked about money more than anything else except the Kingdom of God. 11 of 39 parables talk about money. One out of every seven verses in Luke's gospel is about money. Money is a faithful topic of conversation.

Are we willing to be that vulnerable? Are we willing to take what we have learned and received and heard from the good news of Jesus and try a novel experiment? It is as simple as it is courageous: Get to know one other. It may be one of the best investments you will ever make.

God’s Work

sermon for World Communion Sunday
by Torin Eikler
Matthew 21:33-46 Isaiah 5:1-7

At the Church Board meeting this past Wednesday, Mike told us an interesting and moving story from work at the school.

Earlier in the week, a pair of boys – one 7 and one 10 - came to school for the first time after moving into the area with their mother. They arrived on the bus from Bartlett House by themselves because their mother was receiving emergency medical attention and couldn’t come along. They got off the bus and made their way into the front office with little incident and were waiting quietly to receive their class room assignments for 2nd grade and 4th grade, respectively, just like usual.

And then, the trouble started.

The younger of the two boys is a special needs student who is a fairly extreme example of Down’s syndrome, and the busy-ness and excitement of the start of the school day was a bit too much for his nerves. He ran off through the maze of hallways in the office complex with his older brother close on his heels while the staff came to alert.

Now as I pictured this, I imagined a scene from a crime drama with detectives radioing in, “We have a runner! We have a runner! Go, go, go!” as tense music plays in the background. (Clearly I’ve watched a bit too much television in my time because I’m certain it was not at all that tense.) In fact, before the staff had to get very involved, the 10-year-old had followed his brother into the storage closet he had chosen as a quiet, safe place to hide. He soothed him with calm words and loving touches, and the two were soon back in the front area, waiting once again for their turn in the schedule. The older boy, displaying no anger but perhaps a little embarrassed, commented to the staff around them, “I know. I know. He’s my brother, but I still love him.”


Amazing, isn’t it … how the wisdom of the Spirit can speak so clearly where and when we are least expecting it? This child - whose short, hard life has pushed him into responsibilities that many adults would fear to take on – this young boy showed a level of patience and caring that often eludes the best of us.

It humbles me to hear his words speak in the back of my mind as I think of all the times that I walk past people who could use a kind word, or when I grumble about friends or acquaintances who grate on my nerves simply because of who they are. If we all could reach out to the world and serve the “least of these” in the way he did we would be much closer to the Realm of God, for the vineyard is meant to be tended by people like this child.


Why is it that even though we always find stories like this moving in the power of their witness to Christian values, they just don’t tend to translate into changes in our lives? We regularly talk about the inspiration we find in them, yet so often we tend to act more like the tenants in the parable we heard read today – selfish, greedy … blind and deaf to the working of the Spirit among us even as we voice our belief that all our stuff and even our lives are not so much ours as they are God’s.

Think about it… How many times have prophets and visionaries come to share Truth – capital T truth - with us or call us to remember the mission, vision, and priorities of God? They speak to us of environmental concerns and the devastation wrecked by our sadly irresponsible stewardship of the world’s resources. They remind us of the brothers and sisters who wander homeless and hungry in the midst of a culture drunk on plenty and obsessed with the quest for more. They tell stories of the suffering that comes from emotional and physical violence and war – suffering among those who are least at fault, who are weak, and who most desire peace. They speak the words of God as they shape a vision of a world at peace, living in harmony.

And what do we do? How do we respond? Well I, at least, am much more enlightened than the tenants in the parable. I don’t beat them or stone them or kill them. I don’t even wish that I could imprison them like the chief priests and Pharisees (at least not most of the time.)

No, the tools and techniques that I use – that we all use – are more refined and subtle. We simply ignore the people who trouble our comfortably hectic patterns of living. Or we offer them a welcoming smile and a hand shake, listen to what they have to say with nods and concerned expressions, and send them on their way to bother someone else while we offer up a list of justifications among ourselves until we have buried the still small voice they awakened within us under a tumult of grumbling.

Perhaps we deserve to have the word of the Lord that came through Isaiah directed against us…
And now, inhabitants of Morgantown and people of the United States,
judge between me and my vineyard.
What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done for it?
When I expected it to yield sweet grapes, why did it yield sour grapes?

And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard.
I will remove its hedge and it shall be devoured;
I will break down its wall and it shall be trampled down;
I will make it a waste … and it shall be overgrown with briers and thorns.

For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the Church of Christ,
and the followers of Christ are his pleasant planting.
He expected justice but saw bloodshed and greed;
righteousness but heard the cry of the suffering and abused!

Perhaps this is just what has been happening of late. With the economic downturn, the credit crisis, a strained and straining military, and the demise of the United States as the sole and benevolent world power; perhaps we are witnessing what happens when the wall protecting the vineyard falls down…. Perhaps … if such metaphors can be taken literally.


Perhaps we do deserve to have the Realm of God taken away from us and given to “a people that produces the fruits of the Kingdom.” But, amazingly, that is not what we receive.

No, in those moments when we happen to be waiting for the next thing to come and our eyes are open to see the reality of the hectic, scary world – when we run to hide in the quiet dark – in those moments, our patient brother comes to us. He sooths us with quiet words and calms us with the warm touch of a loving embrace. He feeds us on the bread of life to renew our strength. He gives us the wine of the new covenant to refresh our spirits and restore our courage.

And then, wonder of wonders, he leads us back out of the lonely, fearful emptiness we have chosen into the bright warmth of the vineyard we have ignored and treated so poorly. Instead of casting us out, he offers us grace. Despite our repeated failure, despite of our tendency to ignore or neglect the least of these among us, in spite of our habit of throwing out those who speak the words we need to hear – the words of the Spirit; he invites us back into the Realm of God. He gives us, once again, the power and authority to tear down the walls we have raised to protect our place as a “chosen people” and bids us to go and bring others to share the bounty of the garden and the new life it promises.


Sisters and brothers in Christ, as we share in the feast of life at the table of our Lord and brother, let us praise God for the salvation we have received:
salvation from the flawed ways of the world and
the false promises it makes…
salvation from the burden and worry of trying to do it all …
salvation from the dark loneliness within ourselves.
Let us eat again of the bread and tasting again the water of life, let us joyfully take up our own small part in tending God’s vineyard. It is good work. It is God’s work. And we have been chosen – we are privileged – to share in the fun.