Community Church Sermons

The Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C – May 20, 2001

"Come And Stay At My House!”

Acts 16:9-15

Today’s Scripture reading from Acts 16 is about the birth of a local church. The passage gives rise to the question, “What makes a church a CHURCH?” and then suggests the more specific query, “What is the true measure of OUR church?” In other words, what do we need to be doing to be the kind of church God needs and wants us to be?

The story line is pretty simple. Paul receives a vision directing him to head to Macedonia, which is just north of Greece. As always, Paul trusts the vision, and heads to the province. And again, as always, Paul goes straight for the big city – Philippi – described as a leading city of the district…and a Roman colony.

Now, I want you to note what Paul – the traveling evangelist – does not do when he gets there. He does not buy cable TV time to do televangelism. He does not erect a tent to conduct a revival (even though he is a tentmaker by trade). He does not stand on the street corner, passing out tracts, asking people if they are certain they will go to heaven if they die that night.

Paul the evangelist does none of the things we in our day often associate with evangelism. Instead, Paul learns that just outside the city, along the riverbank, some people gather on the Sabbath for prayer. This is a makeshift synagogue where a small community of Jews who live in the area come to talk about God, and to pray, and to worship. And along with Jewish people, there are a smattering of non-Jews too – spiritually curious people - most notably a local woman named Lydia who is a businesswoman – a seller of “purple goods”.

Now, we are told only four things about Lydia. First, that she is a spiritual seeker as evidenced by her interest in these Sabbath Day discussions “down by the riverside.” Second, that when Paul adds his voice to the discussion and shares about his own experience of God’s amazing grace, God opens Lydia’s heart, and she responds. Third, that Lydia is baptized, and brings along her whole household – family members and domestic help alike. And fourth, that Lydia says to Paul - and St. Luke, his traveling companion - “Come and stay at my house.”

And the first church in Philippi is born! You students of the bible will find it helpful to know that when Paul later wrote his letter to the Philippians, it was written to this very church – which met in Lydia’s house – and was comprised of Lydia, her family, her domestic help, and perhaps a handful of others. Probably no more than fifteen or twenty people. And, if you’ve ever thought Paul’s letter to the Philippians almost reads like a love letter, you might be interested to know that some scholars think that Paul was head-over-heels in love – with Lydia! And I think that just may be so!

But more importantly, these four pieces of information about Lydia provide us with four key ingredients that must be found in every church.

First, the church must be a setting that embraces and encourages spiritual curiosity.

Recently, I had a wonderful conversation with one of the couples in my Sunday morning Bible class. As some of you know, this thirty-session class is probably going to take – oh, 8 or 10 years to complete. Well, probably not that long, but longer than anticipated. Why? Because people have questions. Hard questions. In some cases, questions they’ve never dared ask before. And, in many cases, questions I’d just as soon not have them ask! Well, the husband of this dynamic duo that I was chatting with, said something very interesting. He said, “You know the Christian Church mostly talks and teaches about things contained within a prescribed little circle of truth. And it desperately avoids open discussion about things that lay beyond. And yet, most of us- when you think about it - live OUTSIDE that circle.”

And I think that’s true. I think most people do live outside that circle of certainty where they wrestle with questions like, “If God is good, why did my child get cancer? And can God really do anything for me – and my child – and my family - while we suffer with this evil disease?”

How can I reconcile my faith with scientific discovery?

Is it wrong for me to pray for my loved one to die, instead of for a miracle, while they suffer so terribly?

If God answers prayer, why doesn’t he ever seem to answer mine?

Is there divine truth to be found outside the Christian faith? Will only Christians go to heaven? I’ll always remember one of our church members who, just before she died, said of her Jewish son-in-law: “He’s the most Christian person I know.” And why is that? Why do non-Christians sometimes seem to be so much more like Jesus than Jesus’ followers? And shouldn’t that count for something? And what about those who reject Jesus because of what Christians have inflicted on them?

Is faith about believing something about Jesus, or actually following Jesus? Do some people follow Jesus without even knowing that’s who they’re following?

You know the questions. The ones that come to you when you’re lying awake at night, or sitting in the ICU waiting room, or reading a puzzling passage of scripture, or just talking with friends who think differently than you do.

Most of us do live outside the circle of theological certainty. And we feel uneasy about it. Some, because the Church has told us that doubt is a sign of spiritual weakness, and cannot be tolerated. Others, because it’s scary when we step away from the crowd and what we’ve always been told.

And yet, here by the riverside in Philippi is a gathering of people that – in true rabbinical fashion – gather together to talk, and ask questions, and probe, and explore. You see, the synagogue was never a place for mere one-sided teaching and preaching. It was a setting for dialogue, and exploration. And the result is that hearts are stirred up, and minds are provoked to think new thoughts, and people are made ready for spiritual growth! That’s part of what makes a church, a church!

And our church here must be a fellowship that embraces and encourages spiritual curiosity. So if you’re curious about God and life and faith – you’ve come to the right place, and we encourage you to ask the hard questions and to explore the deepest mysteries of life..

Second, the church must be a setting where stories of grace are told.

Paul shared with the people gathered by the river about how God found him. Remember how he was knocked off his horse and blinded by a light as he traveled to Damascus to persecute Christians? And how the love of Christ embraced him, even though he had done such terrible things? And the practical difference it made in his life, as he now lived for Christ and for others? Well, we are told that the people were moved by Paul’s story. Lydia was among them. And she came to faith!

One of the most memorable experiences of my life was sitting on an ordination council that was interviewing a man who was seeking recognition of his ministry at about 70-years of age! Ted had retired from a long career at New England Telephone, and was now responding to what he felt was a calling from God. The love of Christ had swept into the life of him and his wife in so many wonderful ways. He shared with us stories of answered prayer, and powerful healings, and strength that came when he was weak. And he was weak because he was suffering at the time from terminal cancer. He had maybe a year or two to live. He thought his own terminal illness might help him minister to others going through the same thing – and so he actually thought of it as a gift! What an incredible man! After he talked about all the good things of his life, we asked Ted about the bad. Did he have any regrets as he looked back?

Well, there was one regret, he said. Although the Lord had been so good to him, and powerfully acted in his life over the years, he’d never found a way to tell his children about it. They were all grown now, and neither God nor the church was a significant factor in their lives. Ted said he and his wife both wished that they had simply had the courage to tell their kids what they believed, and why they believed it. They wished they’d found a way to tell their real-life stories about God’s goodness and love as it had streamed into their lives over the years.

The beautiful part of Ted’s story though, is that on the day of his ordination, his children were there. And during that beautiful service, he told some of the stories about God’s grace touching his life over the years, and even in his illness. He openly shared why he wanted to use the rest of his life for ministry, and why he was not afraid to die. And when I glanced out into the audience, there was not a dry eye among his children!

They were moved by the story of grace, just as Lydia was moved by Paul’s story. I like to tell people that the worst thing you can do is preach to others. And the best thing you can do is to share your story about how God’s love has touched you, and made a difference in your life. Stories of grace are a vehicle God uses to lead others to faith!

Some of you have told me about miraculous healings in your life. About incredible experiences of forgiveness and reconciliation. Some have had experiences with angels, guiding them along an important way. Some speak of being terribly lost in life, until they were beautifully found by the grace of God.

And these stories need to be told! They need to be shared! Our church must be a setting in which stories of grace are told. And re-told. Over and over again!

Then there’s a third factor. Acts tells us that Lydia brought her entire household to be baptized. And in the same way, the church must open its ministry to whoever will come! The church must be as inclusive as the love of God!

There are some churches that take the approach that you have to have your faith pretty much together and in order before you can gain entrance. But that’s not how it was in the early church. People were accepted to baptism with one simple statement of faith – “Jesus is Lord.” That was their whole theology.

People sometimes aren’t quite sure what do with our church. We say that we want to be a church “whose only label is Christian, and whose only head is Christ.” But that is pretty risky for some who have spent their lives behind the walls of doctrines that – when you think about it – are mainly intended to keep the chaff from getting at the wheat.

But our job as a church is not to protect ourselves from unbelievers, and not to just accumulate people who are already perfect Christians. Our job is to seek those who are outside the experience of grace. Our job is to welcome those who are not perfect, and to provide a space where they can be curious and ask their questions, and where they can hear the stories of grace, and grow into Christ as the Spirit leads. The church is not a hotel for saints, but a hospital for sinners. Everyone is welcomed!

A fellowship that embraces and encourages spiritual curiosity. A setting where real-life stories of grace are shared. A family whose arms are wide open in love to any one, in any condition. And then one more thing.

Lydia, we are told, said to St. Paul, “Come and stay at my house.”

When I was a child, I loved to go and stay over at my grandparents’ house on Shaffner Street. My grandfather taught me how to run his ancient 8-millimeter projector with grainy black and white films of things like my parents’ wedding, and scenic Sunday drives, and funny little scenes in which my grandfather and his cousin would pretend to be drunk and do this comic thing with their hats and trench coats. He was a pretty funny fellow, my grandfather was, and he used to try out all his humor on me. And I loved it.

My grandmother stocked up the pantry when I came over, and I loved to just open up the cupboard doors and refrigerator to see what treats were inside. There were always things that I loved, of course. Things she had gone out and bought just for me! And there were exotic things, too, that only old Swedes like my grandparents love – sardines, and pickled herring, and hardtack, and rusk crackers. I never ate any of that, but I loved to look at it!

Even today, I can hear the sounds, and smell the aromas, and see the sights of my grandparents’ house. I did not ever live there, mind you, but my grandparents made it clear: their house was my house; and I belonged.

You know, in just a few weeks, a big transition will occur here in Tellico Village. We will become Camp Grandma and Grandpa. Kids, grandkids and others will descend on our community in record numbers. Already, some of you are preparing bedrooms, and cleaning up boats, and dusting off spare sets of golf-clubs, and catching up on your rest. It is a beautiful sight to see the grandchildren arrive at Grandma and Grandpa’s house! Of course, the other side of it is that, as Carl Burke likes to say, the most beautiful color in the world is the red of the taillights taking your grandchildren home after a long visit!

But all that notwithstanding, isn’t that a wonderful image of what a church should be like? We should be a setting where the doors are always open, where the ears are always tuned, where gifts are generously given, and where love is always found. We are to be like our grandparents’ house!

I believe the church is most effective when it welcomes curiosity, shares it’s stories, includes everyone it can, and when it takes what it has, and makes it available to those who come our way. For when Jesus established his church, he created it to be unique among human organizations – never to be possessed by its members, but always to be given away to others, just as Jesus gave His life on the Cross.

“Come and stay at my house!” Lydia urged.

What a beautiful way for a church to live!

Open curiosity. Shared experiences. Radical inclusiveness. Grandmother’s house!

So crank up your curiosity, and dust off your stories, and spread wide your arms, and get the house ready!

Come, and help us become a church like the one that met at Lydia’s house!