The following is the text of the sermon preached Thursday, July 3,
by Dawn Ottoni Wilhelm. The text was submitted to the Annual
Conference Office in mid-June and may have been modified for the
actual presentation.  

Dawn Ottoni Wilhelm 
Focus: Count Well the Cost of Simplicity 
Title: "The Simple Life" 
Scripture: Matthew 8:18-20, 6:33; Luke 12:22-31  

1997 Church of the Brethren Annual Conference Long Beach,
California 
July 3, 1997   


  When I was a young girl growing up on Detroit's east side, my
folks were amazingly adept at finding ways to save money. I
remember once the local grocery stores had a "coupon war,"
offering double or triple off the value of all coupons...So, one
rainy Saturday morning, my mother loaded my two older brothers
and me into the Ford and we headed for Kroegers, where we could
triple our coupons, and with a $5 purchase, receive a free
12-roll pack of toilet paper as well.    
   "It's really very simple," my mother sad, handing us each a
grocery list, coupons and several dollar bills. Each of us was to
find the items on out list, pick up the toilet paper, then go
through separate check-out lines. While my mother circled the
store searching for a nearby packing space, my brothers and I
hopped out and headed inside.    
   Besides bread, I was to get Raisin Bread and Frosted Flakes,
both with 50 cents coupons. Looking at the prices marked on the
boxes, even a seven-year-old could figure out that three times a
50 cent coupons off a $1.29 box of cereal was a pretty good deal.
So good, in fact, that I reasoned my mother surely must have
intended for me to buy three boxes. So I pulled them carefully
from the shelf then searched for the Frosted Flakes. Now, if I
got three boxes of Raisin Bran for Dad, it seemed only right that
Mom should get three boxes of her favorite cereal also. And, of
course, my bothers and I would much rather eat Frosted Flakes
than that suspiciously healthy bran stuff... So maybe six boxes
was about right. With nine or so boxes stacked one on top of the
other in my arms, I slowly tottered toward baked goods in search
of bread.    
   I couldn't reach the list in my pocket but I'm sure it didn't
say just how many loaves to buy. Somehow, three seemed about
right and in keeping with the morning's "triple the value" theme.
Pinching the plastic wrappers in my finger tips and juggling a
year's supply of cereal in my arms, I stepped carefully over the
mountain of toilet paper against the wall.    
   With my arms and hands occupied, it was a good thing that my
feet were free. So I gently kicked away at the mound of paper
until, amazingly, a 12-pack came loose without toppling the
display. Balancing boxes, pinching bread and shuffling toilet
paper along the floor I made my way to the nearest check out
line. "10 Items or Less."    
   Now, I don't know how seriously you folks in California take
those "10 Items or Less" signs, but in Detroit, my mama once told
me you'd better not stand there with 11 items unless you are
willing to do time over in the freezer section for the rest of
the day.    
   So, I juggled on to the next line -- only to discover my
brother Clay was already there hoisting peanut butter onto the
conveyor belt. Remembering my mother's instructions not to get
into the same line, I pressed on -- only to find my brother Dan
waiting in the next check-out line with an armful of dairy
products.    
   By now, my fingers ached, my arms throbbed and I could feel my
legs quivering as I scuffed the boxes anxiously toward the last
check-out line. And I would have made it, too, except that some
well-meaning adult tapped me on the shoulder to ask if I needed
help. I turned on my heel, tripping over the toilet paper,
tossing the cereal, and fortunately, landing on all three loaves
of bread.    
   When we made it back to the car, my mother asked how
everything went. "Fine," my brother said. "but you may want to
consider cereal instead of French Toast for lunch."     

   It was supposed to be very simple. And like so many other
ventures in life, our trip to Kroeger's ended up being a little
more complicated than I had thought it would be.    
   But then, life usually is. And my mother's not the only one
with simple ideas gone awry...Like the way last year's plan to
redecorate one of my children's rooms was a little more of a
project than I thought -- beginning with the moment the peg
boards arrived with those three dreaded works printed on the box:
"Some assembly required."    
   Life is not always simple. There's the family to feed,
projects on the day's list of things to do, transportation needs
to work out, schedules to arrange, church activities to attend,
finances to consider, and people in need of our help. And all the
while, we may become weary in our well-doing, feeling overwhelmed
or consumed by the accumulation of things and expectations we set
-- yearning for a simple word to help guide out way, and a simple
life that draws us closer to God.    
   Which is why Jesus' words to his disciples about living
without worry offer such hope and relief and freedom to all of us
who long for a simple life that draws us closer to God...    
   "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat,    
    or about your body, what you will wear....    
    Your Father knows that you need [these things].    
    Instead, strive for God's kingdom,    
    and these things will be given to you as well."     

   Don't worry. Life is often difficult, and there are no simple
solutions to much of what troubles us. But the simple life is a
life free of worry and filled with hope. Jesus is saying that
when we trust God and seek God's kingdom before all else, we will
live the simple life. Just look at the birds and lilies; for the
One who sets sunflowers in abundance for the ravens and robes
wild flowers in a field in Christian Dior's best spring
collection is also the One who knows our every need and fulfills
our deepest longings. Don't worry: the simple life is found in
Jesus Christ, One who is so centered in the love of God and so
trusting of God's love for him, that he moves simply and freely
about the world in peace and in power. Don't worry: in Jesus, the
kingdom of God comes near to us even now, as a present reality
more compelling and satisfying than the kingdoms of this world.
Don't worry: life is often difficult, and there are no simple
solutions to many of life's problems, but the simple life is free
of worry and full of hope and we live the simple life by trusting
in God -- even and especially when we are most troubled.     

   And there is so much that worries us, isn't there? There's so
much that complicates our lives. Like our finances. Most of us
will admit to having a very real interest in our financial
well-being -- if for no other reason than to take care of
ourselves and our loved ones. For example, most of us feel that
owning a home is not a bad idea -- especially if we are willing
to open our doors to others. Which means that mortgages are a
monthly reality for many of us, as is saving for our children's
college education, and not wanting to be a burden to others in
our old age and planning for retirement. So we save and invest
and trade; we have bank accounts and portfolios. There are trust
funds and securities to acquire. Until the God we trust and the
real security we need are buried beneath layers of anxiety and
paperwork. We have a way of making our lives so complicated as to
forget our simple need of God, and our need to simply trust God.  
   Before his retirement, my uncle Carl owned a paint store. He
used to say that he had some good customers and he had some good
friends. Good customers were people who paid up on their account,
and good friends were people who didn't always pay but my uncle
liked their company enough to keep them as customers anyway. His
friend Louie was a good friend.    
   One day Louie stopped by the shop to pick up a few flats of
paint for a job he was on, and he and my uncle began discussing
the price per gallon. They went back and forth, haggling over the
amount for quite some time before my uncle, exhausted, put his
hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "Listen, Louie. You and I
are old friends and I know that it will be a long time before I
see my money, if you ever pay me at all. So why do you haggle
like this, when there's just a few cents between us?"    
   "Because I like you," Louie said. "The lower I can get the
cost, the less you'll lose when I don't pay."    
   You won't be surprised to hear that neither Louie or my uncle
Carl is very wealthy. But their friendship is more enduring and
secure than any balance sheet could ever account for. Life is
filled with much give and take, and we can haggle all we like,
trying to gather as many pennies as possible. But God already
knows our financial concerns and like the birds of the air and
the lilies of the field, will provide for our needs also. We may
sow and reap, trade and invest, but we can never accumulate the
kind of security that comes form simply trusting our Lord who
knows us best and loves us most. The simple life is free of worry
and full of hope. It's not about building storehouses of
financial security but trusting in God's presence and promises in
the face of great insecurity.     

   But financial well-being is not all that concerns us. Another
way that we easily distracted from Jesus' simple life of joy and
peace is through our longing for more and more material
possessions. Most of us have an insatiable appetite for more, and
soon lose our taste for what we have in a constant craving for
something else. We are consumers who are consumed by our desires,
and Isaiah's question is right to the point: "Why do you spend
your money for that which is not bread, and you labor for that
which does not satisfy?" Why are we ever pursuing and
accumulating that which is of so little lasting value?    
   There is a story of the Amish couple who were working outside
when they saw a moving van pull up next door, hauling the earthly
goods of their new neighbor. Among the many items unloaded from
the truck were a deluxe refrigerator with a built-in ice cube
maker, a state-of-the-art stereo system with a compact disc
player, a remote-control television with a VCR, and a whirlpool
hot tub.    
   The following day, the Amish couple welcomed their new
neighbor and stopped by with a load of homemade bread. After the
usual greetings and cordial conversation, the Amish man concluded
their visit by saying, "If anything should go wrong with your
appliances or equipment, don't hesitate to call me..."    
   "That's very generous of you," his neighbor replied. "Thank
you."    
   "No problem," the Amish man said. "I'll just tell you how to
live without them." [LectionAid, 3/23/97, p.58].    
   In her book, "The Spiritual Life," Evelyn Underhill writes
that we spend most of our lives conjugating three verbs: to want,
to have and to do. We crave and clutch and fuss in a state of
perpetual unrest, expending our time and resources and energy in
supporting a lifestyle that does not, in Jesus' words, add a
single hour to our lives. IN fact, in many ways, our
preoccupation with gadgets and goods diminishes us -- dividing
our treasures and our hearts among so many different interests.   
   Of course, none of us intends to complicate our lives or to
distance ourselves from God. All of us believe that we don't want
that much but only "just enough" -- except that none of us knows
how much is enough until we've had enough. I cannot say just how
much is too much for you, but the simple life is free of worry
and filled with hope. The simple life has to do with knowing that
there is much we can live without as long as we live with God.    
  There is much we can live without because there is One who is
always with us, like a neighbor offering a simple loaf of bread
more satisfying than anything we can find in our own cupboards.
This is the God from whom all blessings flow; and when we live
the simple life, our lives are overflowing as we continually
offer in service to others the good gifts that God has entrusted
to us. From God to us to others. That is the secret with regard
to material things: to keep them flowing along. [E. Prevallet,
Pendle Hill's 'Reflections on Simplicity." p. 11] When we offer
God's gifts to others, then we will live the simple life, free of
worry and filled with hope.     

   But there is another concern that looms large in our hears and
minds at this time in particular -- the Church. It's strange but
true that we can even add the kingdom of God to our list of
things to worry about. To be sure, there may be different things
about the Church that disturb us, but for me, the most unsettling
thing about our denomination lies beneath layers of our
discussions regarding redesign and financial matters. What sets
me on edge is whenever a spirit of enmity or divisiveness arises
among us. There are few things more disturbing than our loss of
fellowship and a spirit of divisiveness that precludes our
serving Christ and the world with peace and joy.    
   There is a story of a well-established Jewish congregation
that hired a young rabbi to lead its members. Every week on the
Sabbath, a fight erupts when the congregation comes to the part
of the service where they are to recite the great "Sh'ma Israel"
-- the "Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God is One." Week after
week, at that point in the service, half of the congregation
stand and the other half sit. The half who stand say to the
others, "Stand up! For the thousands of years Jews have died with
the words of the Sh'ma on their lips." To which the sitting half
of the congregation responds, "No! According to the code of
Jewish law, if you are seated when you come to the Sh'ma, you
remain seated. So sit down!"    
   "Stand up!" "Sit down!" they yell at one another.    
   Finally, the exasperated rabbi learns that a nearby retirement
home there lives a 98 year-old man who was a founding member of
the congregation. So the rabbi appoints a delegation of three --
himself, one person who stands and one person who sits during the
Sh'ma -- and together they visit the old man.    
   They enter is room and immediately the one who stands for the
Sh'ma rushes over to the old man and says "Wasn't it the
tradition of our congregation to stand for the Sh'ma?"   
   "No," the old man replies in a weak voice. "That wasn't the
tradition."    
   "Aha!" the other exclaims. "Then wasn't the tradition in our
congregation to sit for the Sh'ma?"    
   "No," the old man says. "That wasn't the tradition."    
   At this point, the rabbi can contain himself no longer. He
cuts in angrily, "I don't care what the tradition was -- just
tell me! Do you know what goes on in services every week? The
people who are standing yell at the people who are sitting and
the people who are sitting yell at the people who are standing."  
   "Yes," nodded the old man. "That was the tradition."
[Telushkin, "Jewish Humor," pp. 97].    
   May God keep us from such a tradition! And may we turn our
hearts toward God and one another so that we cannot help but to
find the love of God among us.   In the year 1774, there arose a
heated dispute among our traditional forebearers over the correct
order of the elements of the love feast. As Don Durnbaugh
describes it in his book "Fruit of the Vine," Sander Mack was
particularly concerned that the love and unity of the church not
be lost. He concluded his statement to the Church with these
timeless words:    
   "Therefore, dear Brethren, let us watch and be careful.    
    And above all preserve love, for thus one preserves light."

    Preserve love. It's really very simple. Not easy, but simple.
There are many difficult decisions to be made, many things about
which we will disagree, but in all things and in ways, we are to
speak and embody the simple love of Jesus Christ. That is how we
are to be known -- by our love. Not by the right theology, not by
the success of our programs and initiatives. By our love. When
Jesus tells us to seek the kingdom of God, he asks us to look for
God's loving, vital presence among us. We are to seek God's love
alive among us. Anyone can find fault for we are all at fault and
fall short of glory of God in Jesus Christ. But in the very midst
of what worries us, through all that concerns us, at that very
point when we are most troubled, we are not asked to figure out
what is wrong. We are called to seek God's kingdom: to look for
the love of Christ in our midst. That is the simple life. For we
will be free of worry and filled with hope when we seek God's
kingdom of love in our very midst.     

   When I served as Pastor of Nurture at the Mechanic Grove
congregation in southern Lancaster County, I always looked
forward to my visits with Clayt and Sadie Kreider. At over 80
years of age, they had farmed their whole lives. Sadie's life
shone with years of love and learning, and Clayt had a twinkle in
his eye and relished any opportunity to tease and laugh. But I
confess to another reason for enjoying our visits -- whenever I
stopped by there was not only a glass of lemonade but,
invariably, some little treat came along with it.    
   And I remember one visit when I spied on their kitchen table
several small bags of walnuts. I hadn't had my lunch yet that day
so my eyes kept wandering over toward the kitchen table. And sure
enough at the close of our visit, I was delighted to hear Sadie
say, "I have something here to share with you, Sister Dawn."      
   We made our way to the table where Clayt registered his
characteristic complaint by sitting down in a humph next to the
walnuts and moaned, "We were gonna have walnut loaf but I guess
you get the walnuts instead." And Sadie handed me a bag.    
   Now, there were about a half dozen of these little bags and if
Sadie had put them all together, she would indeed have had enough
for one or two lovely loaves of sweet walnut bread. I picked up
my bag and tasted a few -- they were indeed delicious. But I was
surprised because the bag was not all that large, really, so I
tried to find a tactful way of saying to Sadie, "Thank you -- but
who are the other bags for?"    
   Then she told me about the black walnut tree that year and how
it hadn't given them as many nuts as they would like. But no
matter. For earlier that morning, she had taken a ladder, climbed
the tress, and shook branches to get from it what there was to
find. Then, after the few nuts had tumbled to the ground, she sat
there with a hammer in hand, and broke them open in time for my
visit. "Take them with you," she said. And I did.    
   They sat beside me on the front seat of my car. And because I
was called out to the hospital, then needed to rush back to meet
someone else in my office, I didn't have time for lunch. But
Sadie's bag of walnuts came along with me, a treasure I tasted
throughout the day. They were more satisfying than McDonald's or
any other fast food fix I could find. In those walnuts, I was
given the simplest and most satisfying of gifts. They were
costly, mind you, in terms of Sadie's time and effort, all the
trouble and difficulty that went into them.    
   But then, life is difficult. And costly. And there is no
simple ways around it. But don't worry. We need not toil or spin,
worry or fret. Even the birds and flowers can be our teachers
when it comes to depending on God, because the simple life is
free of worry and full of hope. It's not about building our own
storehouses of security but trusting in God's promises in the
face of great insecurity; it's about learning that there is much
we can live without because we live with God; it's about sharing
the treasure God has entrusted to us because God has shared so
freely with us. Trust the God who knows you best and loves you
most. Seek the kingdom of God before all else. And live the
simple life of Jesus Christ -- free of worry and full of hope.  


Dawn Ottoni Wilhelm is pastor of Stone Church of the Brethren,
Huntingdon, Pa.   

To order an audio tape ($4.95) or video tape ($15.95) of this
sermon, contact Brethren Press at 800 441-3712 or
Brethren.Press.parti@Ecunet.Org.   

1997 Church of the Brethren Annual Conference, Long Beach, Calif.
July 3, 1997