(This text was submitted prior to Annual Conference) Annual Conference 1999 Sunday morning, July 04, 1999 Milwakee, Wisconsin Preacher: Paul Mundey, Pastor of Frederick (Maryland) Church of the Brethren Sermon title: Soaring Servants What a great week of reconnection with Brethren life and culture. Speaking of Brethren culture, I'm reminded of the kindergarten teacher who gave her class a show-and-tell assignment. "Class", she announced. "Tomorrow, I want you to bring in something that represents your religion." Well, tomorrow came, and the first child marched forward. "My name is Benjamin", he declared. "I'm Jewish. And this—is the Star of David." Before long, a second child was front and center. "My name is Rachel", she said. "I'm Catholic. And this—is a crucifix". Not to be outdone, a third child appeared. "My name is Alex", he announced. "I'm Brethren. And this—is a casserole." Now, we laugh, but much identity is rooted in the mundane. Why, the world 'goes to hell', yet we focus on our appetite, our desire, and our need. Now, there's nothing wrong with casseroles or potluck suppers. But church is more than food and common ritual. In fact, church is uncommon ritual, where we are lifted, toward new vision and new routine. As we enter our scripture text, new routine abounds. Why, the disciples, known as the 'seventy' (or 'seventy-two'), embark on no ordinary mission. Rather, they embark on remarkable mission. "Go", Jesus declares in Luke 10. "[I send you] like lambs among wolves. Do not take…purse or bag or sandals" (Luke 10:3). Just go—declaring uncommon life, Kingdom life. How might we declare uncommon life, Kingdom life? How might we rise out of the mundane toward new vision and new routine? Continuing with our text, we discover important clues for leaders—of any stripe. Initially, we learn we must rise out of pettiness. Mundane life is seldom transcended without distance from picky, Pharisaic ways. Craig Barnes pastors National Presbyterian Church in Washington. Early in his tenure, he became ensnared in an issue of 'profound' importance. No, it wasn't food for the hungry. No, it wasn't peace in the Middle East. No, it wasn't salvation for the lost. It was the placement of a coffeepot near the church sanctuary. You see, the Hospitality Committee wanted to provide hospitality, so they placed a coffee urn in the narthex. The outcome was horrendous. Why, the head usher of 25 years resigned in protest. And the church was forced into a mediation process lasting over 8 weeks. All because of a coffeepot. Asked to describe such experience, Barnes noted, it felt "like being 'nibbled to death' by a duck." What contrast is found, however, in our scripture text. Rather, than 'nibbling' reality to death, the 'seventy' accept reality adjusting to their locale. Jesus provides the impetus. Don't 'pick apart' current context, Jesus infers in Luke 10:7. Don't 'pick apart' food and lodging. Rather, accept food and lodging, reflecting attitudes of grace. Do you reflect attitudes of grace? Friends, there's always room for improvement, but our calling is not to 'pick apart' current context. Rather, our calling is to aspire toward new vision. The Kingdom of God is not defined by the placement of coffeepots. But it is defined by the placement of justice. It is defined by the placement of righteousness. It is defined by the placement of peace. So, don't be distracted by incidentals, Jesus suggests. Rather, be captivated by essentials, proclaiming the reign of God. Along with rising out of pettiness, mundane life is addressed next as we rise out of jadedness. Common routine is seldom punctured until we muster new energy and new options. Just ask folks at Somerset Church of the Brethren. As the story goes, their deacons and pastor were preparing elements for a Christmas Eve communion service. In doing so, however, the deacon co-chair made a shocking discovery—instead of purchasing grape juice for the event, she inadvertently purchased prune juice! Quizzing the pastor, she asked what to do. "Keep pouring", he declared, "keep pouring". You see, given holiday hours, no store was available to correct the problem. Needless to say, the service that night was creative as worshipers swallowed the unexpected juice. Commenting afterwards, the pastor remarked, "Now that was one of the most—moving experiences I've ever had! It's important to note movement in our scripture text. Why, the 'seventy' are no jaded group. Rather, they're an energized group—venturing forth. They venture with risk, moving as lambs among wolves (Luke 10:3). They venture with urgency, engaging in no idle talk (Luke 10:4). They venture with vitality, knowing fresh vigor and zest. In fact, Luke tells us after embarking on their mission, they return with joy -- great joy (Luke 10:17). Are you marked by risk, urgency and joy? Barbara Brown Taylor tells of a man deeply moved by one of her sermons. As a result, he planned to quit his job, sell his car, and change his life. Taylor was taken back. "Good grief", she mused. "It was only a sermon. Sleep on it. Go—get some coffee!" Reflecting later, she noted: isn't it sad how all this church stuff is too familiar. Why, we hear God's Word as if we're hearing income tax instructions. There's nothing to get excited about. But friends, there is. Remember the prophet's words in Isaiah 40:31? "those who hope in the Lord [can] renew their strength. They [can] soar on wings like eagles; they [can] run and not grow weary, they [can] walk and not faint." Bottom line? Even in our lethargy, we can be renewed and uplifted. Along with rising out of pettiness and jadedness, mundane life is addressed next as we rise out of clannishness. Common routine continues until we 'check' tendencies to huddle exclusively with 'our own' kind. I remember family reunions growing up. Rather than mixing, kinfolk would huddle, engaging familiar voices and faces. We do the same. Rather, than engaging varied folk, we engage familiar folk, bypassing people of different color, genealogy, or conviction. But this is not God's intent. Notice, Jesus sends the 'seventy' into foreign territory—not familiar territory (Luke10:1; 3). So, too, for us. Our calling is not to HUDDLE—like an Old Testament tribe. But to EXPAND—like a New Testament Church. So, ENLARGE outreach—engaging new and different folk. Well, there's a final item. Along with rising out of pettiness, jadedness, and clannishness, mundane life is addressed lastly as we rise out of aimlessness. Common routine continues until we claim new identity, new direction -- and new mission. A few years back, Diane Williams was pursuing a favorite hobby -- skydiving. Suddenly, however, she slammed into a colleague and was knocked unconscious. Spinning out of control, she fell rapidly at 150 miles an hour. High above, skydiver Greg Robertson witnessed her plight. Breaking formation, he went into a 'no-list' dive. In other words, he became a vertical dart—plummeting toward Diane at breakneck speed. At 3500 feet, Greg reached her. Ten seconds before impact, Greg reached her. And together, they floated safely to earth. Our mission is likewise. We need to break formation. We need to break routine, and rescue others. The story of the 'seventy' is many things. A story of energy. A story of urgency. A story of efficiency. But foremost, it's a story of service as the disciples risk life for others. Luke 10:8&9 supplies the detail. "When you enter a town and are welcomed", Jesus instructs, "…Heal the sick… [telling them] the kingdom… is near…" In other words, heal the broken, heal the downtrodden, heal the lost. Giving life—in God's name. Parkes Cadman was one of America's great preachers. A few years back, he was called to the home of a dying woman. In the course of being there, he noticed her hands—weathered, callused, scarred. You see, the woman had not lived just any life. She had lived a life for others. Well, an hour or so into the conversation, the woman teared up. "Pastor", she shared. "I'm afraid. When I stand before God, what shall I do?" At first, the pastor was hesitant—after all it was a profound question. But soon words flowed. "When you stand before God" he answered, "Just show God—your hands!" Not bad advice. When you stand before God, just show God your hands. In other words, just show God evidence of mission and sacrificial love. On December 17, 1903, the Wright Brothers did the impossible—they defined gravity and flew. Overjoyed, they contacted a sister in hometown Dayton, Ohio. Their telegram was brief but historic: "First sustained flight today -- 59 seconds. Hope to be home by Christmas. Signed: Orville and Wilbur". Anxious to spread such news, momentous news, the sister took the telegram to a local newspaper editor. The next morning, its contents were right on front page. Well, sort of. Plastered across the top was the following headline. "Local Bicycle Merchants to be Home for [the] Holidays". Isn't it amazing? People defy gravity -- and we focus on the mundane. Wonderful things happen—yet we stay captive to familiar, ordinary routine. But friends, it needn't be that way. We can rise above common life and claim kingdom life. We can go beyond mediocrity and know the greatness of God. Remember the prophet's words? "those who hope in the Lord [can] renew their strength. "They [can] soar on wings like eagles; they [can] run and not grow weary, they [can] walk and not faint." (Isaiah 40:31) In 1491, Christians in Seville, Spain, set out to build a new edifice for their congregation. Before construction, however, they wrote a resolution—outlining intent. It was a simple statement but striking statement. "Let us build… a church so great," they declared, "that those who come after us—will think us mad, for having dreamed it." I like that. You see—we're not called to puny vision. We're called to lofty vision. We're not called to small pursuit. We're called to great pursuit—for Christ and His Cause. And so—let -- the church -- arise! Let it rise -- out of pettiness. Let it rise -- out of jadedness. Let it rise -- out of clannishness. Let it rise -- out of aimlessness. Let it rise. Let it rise. Let it rise. For we're not just any people -- but Jesus people. Not just any servants -- but soaring servants. Destined -- to 'walk the heights' -- with God.