Passionate Spirituality - The Call

sermon by Torin Eikler
Mark 13:32-37 Matthew 5:13-16

In the last week, crude oil prices have fluctuated between $80 and $53 per barrel. Gas prices are down about 5 cents. General Motors made it through bankruptcy in an amazingly short 40 days and 40 nights, and its new CEO seems to be confident that the job cuts and debt relief will allow the company to thrive despite the depressed car market and the fact that the governments of the United States and Canada now own about 72% of the company. The G-8 summit ended with pledges totaling $15 billion in aid for farmers in poorer countries. California is still trying to come to terms on a budget that stands any chance of dealing with $26 billion short fall, and the national debt currently stands at $11.5 trillion with deficit spending in the range of $2 trillion dollars threatening to drive it on up. 5 more soldiers were killed in Afghanistan. Bombings in Mosul and Baghdad resulted in at least 41 deaths. And the protests of the Uighur minority in Northwestern China have brought on a police crack down leading to at least 156 dead and 1,000 injured.

Well, that’s a rough summary of the news that I heard on the radio Friday afternoon, and it all seemed to be about the numbers. To be honest, I’m not really surprised that the news is more than a little obsessed by numbers lately – though it left me feeling anxious and confused rather than informed. As the recession has gone on and on and on with its bank failures, bail-outs, massive stimulus packages, and substantial cases of fraud the economy has taken over the media’s center stage just as economic concerns seem to have come to the fore-front in people’s lives. And, economics – be they household or national – are all about numbers. And our focus on the economy has affected our whole perspective, making the relevant information about any given situation the numbers involved.

So, it doesn’t seem to matter quite as much what is actually happening in Iraq and Afghanistan or what’s behind the Uighur and Tibetan protests in Western China. What matters is how many people – soldiers, insurgents, and innocent bystanders – are killed or injured. It doesn’t seem to matter quite as much that people are having trouble getting food or health care for their families. What matters is that their ranks are growing by the thousands and the unemployment rate might soon top 10%. It doesn’t matter … unless you are one of those caught up in the struggle for survival, and we are hearing less and less about those people.

Now, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t keep an eye on our finances or those of the government under which we live. Nor should we ignore the number of people killed on the battle field or threatened with death by hunger or illness. On the contrary, I think that it’s a very good idea to pay attention to the flow of money in and out of our lives and to bear in mind the cost of “life as we know it” in human suffering. But, I do find something within me rising up against an excessive concentration on numbers and statistics when that focus erases the individual lives involved, numbs our hearts’ compassion, and blinds our spirits’ vision of what could be – what should be.

That’s particularly troubling when it enters the world of the church as it has been lately. With church membership and attendance in decline, many people have become obsessed with church growth by the numbers. Study after study has shown that the unchurched in this country number in the millions, and it’s probably safe to assume that they number in the tens of thousands in Morgantown. Researchers, church leaders, pastors, and even members have latched onto this as the answer to church growth, seeking ways to bring those people into the fold so that churches can return to the size and stability they knew in the last century. Yet, here too the focus on numbers can bog us down us. Certainly, it would be nice to have a full sanctuary every Sunday …. But, that is not the end all and be all of church life.

I wonder, in fact, if concern for attendance at or membership in a church really has a place in the life of the Christian community. Certainly we should care about people, and we should take to heart the call to share the good news of Christ with everyone – especially those who have not heard the gospel (who, I think, may be surprising large in number). Yet, the work of conversion is ultimately the work of Spirit and not, perhaps, our work. What we, as a community, are called to occupy ourselves with is our own spiritual growth and the lives of discipleship that spring from it. When we lose that focus, we risk falling into a spiritual doze when we are called to be a light for the nations.


Let me share a story that I heard from a colleague not long ago. It is the story of a small, struggling congregation in the midst of Missouri’s farmland. Even though the church stood in the middle of fields miles from any cities, it had once been a thriving community filled with the families that worked the surrounding land. Over the years, the congregation shrank as the farmland was consolidated and new generations moved away to work in other areas. And, for the last twenty or so years of its life, it had just a few dozen members.

Even as the congregation struggled to keep up the building and members worried about what would happen in the future, they continued to meet together faithfully. Eventually, of course, the church closed its doors. But on the final Sunday, the atmosphere was not one of sadness and regret, though those emotions were certainly present. Over the years, and especially in the final few decades, the passionate faith of the membership had profoundly affected those who were part of the community. Of the people who had grown up in the congregation and left, twenty of them had gone out to do mission work both overseas and in the inner cities of this country. Another fifty had found their way into non-profit organizations dedicated to the welfare of the marginalized in our society. And, six had become pastors themselves – three of them planting congregations marked by the same vibrant spirituality that had characterized the small country church. So, instead of mourning, the congregation along with many former members celebrated the powerful ministry the church had carried out during its life and the way their presence would continue to be felt throughout the world. And, every one of those who returned to mark the end of this particular era told stories of the many times that others had shared with them how the example of their lives and their faith had brought them back to the church.


It’s an inspiring story. A little sad, perhaps, but all great stories have a bit of sadness in them. More to the point, though, it reflects the picture of the church we have in the Bible.

From the beginning, the story of Christ and his followers has been about a passionate desire to follow the new way taught by Jesus. During his life and ministry, Jesus called people to wake up and see the Kingdom of God around them. He challenged the status quo and the humdrum lives lived by those who followed it. He invited people to lay down that life and find a powerful new connection with the Life that God had in mind for them.

And, for some that invitation was irresistible. They heard the good news, and they left behind or changed their old lives – sometimes even leaving behind their family – in order to follow. They risked their lives, literally as well as figuratively, because the joy and passion they had found. And, against all odds (at least according to the wisdom of the time), their numbers grew. Despite all the forces working against them, the “Spirit added to their numbers” – not arbitrarily, but through the powerful light of their own powerful faith and the passionate spirituality that drove them out to live lives of discipleship and service to one another and to those they lived among.


Another inspiring story, isn’t it? And, if we might pass the other story off as not our own, we cannot do so with this one. It’s our history, and it’s the story that inspired our spiritual ancestors to reform the church they felt had fallen asleep. It is our story, and as we read it each week, it reminds us of Christ’s call to each of us – a call to continually seek a passionate spirituality within ourselves and shine our own light into the world.

Now, if you are like me, you might hear those last words and think, “That’s all well and good, but that’s what I’ve been trying to do all along. Where do I go from here?” And, that’s a very good question. Sadly, I don’t have an answer for you. Or, rather, I don’t have the answer because passionate spirituality is something that we each have to discover for ourselves.

But the good news is that those who have gone before us have left us a sort of guide to what they found helpful on their journeys. And, for the next several weeks we will be exploring some of those spiritual practices together, and though the list of possibilities is extensive, we will be focusing on saying yes and saying no, discernment, hospitality, forgiveness, healing, dying well, and prayer in response to the input we received on the surveys last month.

As a part of the process, we will be inviting you all to participate in some new and different ways. Instead of a time of silent reflection following the sermons, we will invite you to join in a variety of activities including small group discussions, congregational conversation, and individual journaling all guided by some leading questions. It is our hope that this process of group study will help our faith community awaken to a renewed sense of vibrant faith that will shine an inviting light for those who are seeking the One it is our passion to follow.

We will begin this process today with a time of individual journaling. So, please pick up one of the journals we have provided, get a pen or pencil, and spend the next several minutes writing about one or all of the following questions:

What do you find exciting or challenging about exploring some new spiritual practices?

Are there any particular practices that feel more inviting to you and why?

How do you hope this experience will change or enhance your own spiritual lives?

Please feel free to take the journals with you to use throughout this time of exploration if you wish, but bring them with you on Sundays so that they are here for future journaling times. Or, if you don’t feel they would be a helpful tool during the week, you may leave them here. Either way, please put your name on the front cover so that we are all able to respect one another’s privacy.

Now, I invite you into a time of silence as we continue to worship through this medium of expression. The leading questions, once again, are:

What do you find exciting or challenging about exploring some new spiritual practices?

Are there any particular practices that feel more inviting to you and why?

How do you hope this experience will change or enhance your own spiritual lives?