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Foundry is an historic, progressive United Methodist Church that welcomes all, worships passionately, challenges the status quo, & seeks to transform the world.
Episodes
Sunday Feb 16, 2020
Sunday Feb 16, 2020
Whom Do You Serve?
A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC February 16, 2020, the sixth Sunday after the Epiphany. “Life Together” series.
Text: 1 Corinthians 3:1-9
Who among us is familiar with the Jello mold? I grew up in Oklahoma with various versions of Jello as a primary food group. My mom didn’t so much do the “molds” but, oh my goodness, some of the folks at 1st UMC, Sapulpa had this thing down to an art form. The first parish I served in Rockville also had some strong contenders in the Jello mold category. Evidently, my mother in law was known in days past as the Jello mold queen. Now, why—you may ask—am I rattling on about Jello molds this morning?
I’m thinking about the process of being formed into a particular shape or image and, as you may know, to make a Jello mold you mix the flavored gelatin powder with hot water to dissolve it and then pour the liquid into the mold. You refrigerate it until it gels and then “turn it out” from the mold with the gelatin having taken the shape of the mold. Pretty basic concept—and the one that popped into my head as I pondered my point for today…
Over the past several weeks we have been exploring the apostle Paul’s first letter to the 1st century church in Corinth and what it teaches us about our life together. The cross is at the center of Paul’s message and is lifted up again and again as the lens through which to understand how to be in community. Practically, Jesus shows us on the cross the way of sacrificial love and solidarity and models how we are to live with and for others. Our focus is to be on loving service, not social climbing or political posturing or forming up teams of “us” versus “them.” We have learned that we don’t have to have fancy degrees, or know all the “right words” or do things in a certain way to receive the gifts of grace, forgiveness, and new life that flow from Christ’s sacrifice of love. We have considered the difference between the wisdom of the world and the wisdom of God and learned that our call is to be willing to proclaim in word and deed the unpopular wisdom of Jesus Christ and him crucified. All of this helps provide a frame for how to live as people of Christian faith.
One of my theological mentors, Rev. Dr. Serene Jones, taught me that the shape of any given church forms disciples according to that shape. The worship, language, theology, practices, systems for ministry, and stance with and toward others form certain kinds of Christians. Paul teaches that a faithful church will be cross-shaped. This means in part that the things we see at the cross—surrender, sacrifice, salvation, humility, righteousness, faithfulness, grace, forgiveness, love—are what a faithful congregation will strive to deepen and grow in the lives of its people and as a community. Some of you will know that many church buildings are built in the shape of a cross so that when the congregation gathers they are literally cross-shaped as a community. The cross is the “mold” in both literal and figurative ways—the form within which we take shape as Jesus-followers and disciples.
Today’s installment from Paul’s letter gives us a very concrete measure by which we can see how much we’ve “gelled” as a cross-shaped community. Paul asks, “As long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations?” This is a particularly poignant question in our current context as a denomination, nation, and world. And honestly, we don’t have to go far to see that the question may aggravate a tender place in our own personal lives.
It was personal for Paul, too. Apollos was evidently seen as an opposing team captain—a popular leader in the early church and well-known in Corinth. But Paul makes it clear that he and Apollos are both servants of God, both sent to serve in distinct ways, and both equally valued. In teaching and modeling this, Paul shows how we are called to serve together and to honor the gifts and contributions of one another—even when others do things differently than we’d prefer or when they aggravate or challenge us. It’s a lesson in valuing our own as well as others’ gifts—so that we don’t get caught in jealous competition or soul-sucking comparison games. Paul also makes a very clear point against setting any human leader up as the one to whom we “belong”—we don’t belong to a pastor or teacher. I, as a pastor among you, am responsible for ordering and supporting our life together in community—and sometimes I do talk about how much I love “my Foundry peeps”—but you don’t belong to me. Paul makes it plain a little later in his letter when he says to the church: “you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.”
So in these first several chapters of 1 Corinthians we are given a vision and framework for how to live together. We know that cross-shaped lives entail challenge and forgiveness and patience and sacrifice. Cross-shaped disciples are called to see beyond any present pain or injustice to the healing, love, peace, and justice that is the fulfillment of God’s Kin-dom vision…. Wow, that seems like a lot of work. It might seem like too much to do with everything else on your plate.
I’m aware of the weariness and weight that many of us are carrying in our bodies and souls in these days. The past number of years is taking a toll. Our daily lives and responsibilities—caring for children, parents, friends, work, our own health, etc… may feel increasingly exhausting. And the enormity of the brokenness in our world, the daily, constant stream of deeply concerning news can tempt us to despair or to completely “check out.” I want to gently remind us that the powers of worldly wisdom, the powers of empire, want us to do just that, to check out and give up. The wisdom of empire delights when we become distracted and dissolve into factions, quarrel, tear each other down. Imperial powers rejoice when we become overwhelmed and decide there’s nothing we can do. Worldly powers want us to despair, want us to abandon those with and for whom we are called to stand, want us to lose perspective and to forget who is holding us and all things.
As those formed by the cross of Christ, we know that we can call on the power of God to resist the idolatries of the world, the death-dealing ways of empire, the hope- and joy-sucking droning on of bad news and seemingly insurmountable brokenness. In a cross-shaped community, we will be reminded when we gather in worship that we serve a God who has shown us through cross and resurrection that even when we feel weak and appear defeated according to the ways of the world, we are strong because of God’s steadfast love and presence with us. In this Black History Month I’m reminded of countless examples of black siblings who, strengthened by their faith, stood up, spoke up, sat down, marched, and did not—and do not!—give up even the face of deep hatred and systemic oppression—from Rosa Parks to Shirley Chisholm to Dorothy Height to RuPaul, from MLK to Jesse Jackson to John Lewis to William Barber. Cross-shaped community forms and strengthens us to keep stepping, reminds us we are not powerless, that we are not alone. Cross-shaped community allows us to try to practice humility, mutuality, grace, courage, reconciliation—in short, to lessen the jealousy and quarreling that fracture our relationships and lives. When we are living our call in this way we work together, honor the gifts of each, and bring our collective power to bear on the challenges facing us. When we are living our call we hold on to each other and support one another when any one of us is struggling to keep going on the journey. When we are striving to live as cross-shaped community, we remind one another that there is new life on the other side of wilderness wandering and crucifixion, that the cross of Jesus has shown us that the worst the world could do is no match for God’s life-giving and liberating love.
Cross-shaped community forms disciples who are servants—not of empire and worldly wisdom and all the shiny idols that so easily lure and distract us—but rather servants of God’s way of mercy and love and justice. We don’t have to fix all the jealousy and quarreling in the world, the deep divisions both petty and profound, the brokenness all over. Christ is the savior of the world, not you or me. We are simply called to do what we can do, to choose clearly and intentionally whom and how we will serve, and to serve alongside others to change the world as part of God’s larger work of mending. We do our part, we may design or plant or water or prune but it is God who brings the growth and new life.
I will close with these words from Sacred Resistance:
“As followers of Jesus and as communities of the cross, our call and identity is love, mercy, solidarity, and justice. We can turn away from this call out of fear or selfishness, we can live smaller lives than we’re made for, we can reject the love that forms and fuels a life that is truly human. That is our prerogative.
But thanks be that it’s God’s prerogative to have mercy on us. Thanks be that in Jesus we meet our God who is radically free and will not be compromised or silenced or coopted to serve selfish, oppressive, violent human desires. Thanks be that our God hangs in there with us even when we want to trade God in for another model. Thanks be that our God is love and compassion. Thanks be that, even with so much evidence to the contrary, humankind is created in the image of that God. Thanks be that Jesus took the form of a humble, human servant so that we might take the form of a loving, merciful God.”[i]
[i] Sacred Resistance: A Practical Guide to Christian Witness and Dissent, p. 36.
Sunday Feb 09, 2020
Sunday Feb 09, 2020
Unpopular Wisdom
A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC February 9, 2020, the fifth Sunday after the Epiphany. “Life Together” series.
Text: 1 Corinthians 2:1-12
“I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” (1 Cor 2:2) Why is Paul so focused on “Christ crucified?” Why not proclaim Christ resurrected? It seems to me the resurrection angle would have a better chance of going viral. If you’re trying to start a new church, why in the world make your logo the instrument of torture that killed the one you’re trying to convince people to follow? Why include a trigger word (um…crucified) in your tag line?? Some market testing might have been useful.
And Paul, for all his faults and hangups, was a smart, highly educated dude. He knew lots of things. He knew the religious law backwards and forwards because he was a Pharisee. All to say, Paul could have come into the highly educated city of Corinth showing off his capacity to speak eloquently, to reason and debate, and to impress the powerful with his own power. But instead he proclaims, “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”
This proclamation has always been a hard sell. Paul writes the cross is “a stumbling block” and “foolishness” to worldly ways of thinking. This hasn’t changed over the centuries. Think for a moment about the difference between many Christian sanctuaries on Good Friday and Easter. (Let me help: we don’t have to plan overflow space for Good Friday to manage the crowds). Many folks are happy to make the leap from the Palm Sunday parade to the Easter fanfare. I get it. Who doesn’t love victory? Why would we choose to linger in those dark days and experiences in-between triumph and triumph?
Paul was smart enough to know this and still—“decided to know nothing except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” Why is Paul so insistent on this as the center of the proclamation for our life together as followers of Jesus?
What do we see when we stop at the cross? One writer who shows up each month in my morning devotions describes it saying, “When I stop at the cross…I see surrender, sacrifice, salvation, humility, righteousness, faithfulness, grace, forgiveness, love!”
What would it look like for those things to be held at the center of communal life?
Think about those things for just a moment. Surrender…not the kind of surrender that is giving in to powers of oppression, but rather releasing control—letting go and letting God guide and strengthen us. Sacrifice…not to become a martyr in a self-promoting way, but to truly share yourself, your power, and your resources with and for others—even when it costs you a great deal. Salvation…not the kind that we might imagine can be achieved for ourselves, but the kind that only happens through the power of God. Humility…not the kind that dismisses our worth and strength, but that recognizes the worth and dignity of others and is willing to become small so that others might be magnified. Righteousness…not self-righteousness, but being in right relationship with God, others, and creation. Faithfulness…not blind loyalty, but instead deep trust of God’s guidance and care. Grace…not cheap grace that requires nothing, but free grace that inspires our devotion and response. Forgiveness…the gift that is liberation from bitterness, resentment, guilt and shame—and that asks for not only words, but changed actions. And love. Free, unmerited, unearned love. When we stop at the cross, these are some of what we find—modeled by Jesus, offered to us by Jesus. Imagine if these were truly at the center of human community…
And every single one of these things are directly counter to what Paul calls the “spirit of the world” and the “wisdom of the world”—what I have called in my book Sacred Resistance, “the idols of current cultural religion.” What are some of the core teachings of cultural religion?
- Happiness is found in having things.
- Get all you can for yourself.
- Get it all as quickly as you can.
- Violence is entertaining.
- Always seek pleasure and avoid boredom.
- Win at all costs.
This is popular religion, popular wisdom and we have to be very careful to not be taken in by its promises. In an old Pearls Before Swine cartoon, “Rat explains that he’s trying to come up with a motto to live by. Pig makes some suggestions, the first being ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ When Pig asks Rat what he’s come up with, Rat’s answer is: ‘Crush the little people.’ Then in the last frame says, ‘I’m trying to be realistic.’
In our world—and, it seems, it has been this way forever—being ‘realistic’ leads people to put their trust in whatever they think will get them safety, power, comfort, attention, or wealth. Being ‘realistic’ leads us to believe that violence and exploitation are unavoidable. … ‘This is the way the game is played,’ folks will say. And the ‘little people’—the poor, the children, the marginalized, are always the ones who suffer as a result.”
This past week, we have seen some pretty clear clashes between the wisdom of the world and the wisdom of God. We’ve seen a prominent Senator break ranks—led by his faith and conscience—knowing full well what he would endure as a result. We’ve also heard the leader of this nation—with scores of so-called Christians supporting him—suggest that his wisdom regarding enemies is greater than the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. There is much I could say about this blasphemy. But what I will say is simply that Jesus taught us to love our enemies. (Mt 5:43-45)
That’s unpopular wisdom. But there it is. And Jesus didn’t ask us to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself. He showed us how to love enemies. He challenged those who opposed the ways of the Kin-dom. But he didn’t do them harm. He got angry at those who did harm to others, but he didn’t stir up violence against them. He invited those who hurt and accused him personally into right relationship with him, with God, and with others, and grieved when that gift was rejected. He took the slanders and body blows of his enemies without retaliating or losing his agency or dignity. And from the cross he speaks words of compassion and forgiveness upon those who had cruelly abused and killed him.
Is this difficult and the highest of our callings? Absolutely. But we proclaim Christ crucified, not popular, worldly wisdom. Christ crucified has always been characterized by many as foolish, weak, unrealistic, fake news. But for those of us lucky enough to have even an inkling of the wisdom of God, we are given grace to embrace the unpopular wisdom of Jesus.
Perhaps Paul insisted on keeping Christ crucified at the center of the proclamation because he understood the perpetual human temptation to follow worldly wisdom—the idea that we are in control, that we can earn our salvation, that weakness is unacceptable, that might makes right, the one with the most toys wins, cruelty can be rationalized as “truth-telling,” slander and prideful retaliation framed as strength. Perhaps Paul understood that if we focus primarily on resurrection and victory, it becomes possible to ignore the crucified people of every age. Think about it for a moment… If our focus as Christians is primarily on resurrection victory—the reward we get for our good lives—then it’s not much of a leap to self-centered prosperity gospel. If our focus is on resurrection as entry to heaven when we die it’s not much of a leap to the space where all the energy is on saving souls for eternity but not giving a flip about what happens to bodies and spirits in this life. But if, as Paul insists, we focus on the cross, we cannot help but see what “worldly wisdom” and “cultural religion” does to innocent victims. We can’t help but see the result of human injustice, fear, and oppression. When we stop at the cross we see that Jesus isn’t alone there… and we are asked to care and to respond. As one theologian writes, “the cross of Jesus is for us not an empty symbol but a point of entry into the pain of the world…”[i]
How’s that for an invitation to a new church start? But Paul must have been on to something in his proclamation, must have been led by some measure of God’s wisdom…because people responded, people joined up, people received the story of Jesus with hope and their lives were changed as a result. True, it didn’t take long for those first churches to dissolve into old patterns of competition and division. But the message kept calling them back to the promise and the new way of life extended to them in Christ.
This is the message calling to us today. It challenges us to see our own temptation to give in to the ways of “worldly wisdom.” It calls us to follow Jesus in solidarity with the innocent victims of the world’s cruelty, injustice, and greed. It reminds us that Jesus is with us in all our weakness, suffering, and struggle. And the message also reminds us that the story doesn’t end at the cross. There is new life, victory, resurrection on the other side, all of which may be experienced in this world in ways large and small. New life happens when someone is given a place to live or a way to feed and support their family. Resurrection happens when, through persistent, loving care, balance and health is restored to fragile eco-systems or fragile spirits or fragile communities. Victory is sweet when sobriety is supported and sustained, when obstacles are overcome through support and courage and determination, when folks beat the odds, when we die well because we have lived well. The kind of victory implied by the unpopular wisdom of God is achieved not by “crushing the little people” or avoiding, denying, or trying to jump over pain and struggle and death. It is victory that happens by the grace of God who journeys with us through the pains of this world into a life that is more loving, wise, and whole.
When I stop at the cross
I can see the love of God.
But I can’t see competition.
I can’t see hierarchy.
I can’t see pride or prejudice
or the abuse of authority.
I can’t see lust for power.
I can’t see manipulation.
I can’t see rage or anger
or selfish ambition.
I can’t see unforgiveness.
I can’t see hate or envy.
I can’t see stupid fighting
or bitterness, or jealousy.
I can’t see empire building.
I can’t see self-importance.
I can’t see back-stabbing
or vanity or arrogance.
I see surrender, sacrifice, salvation,
humility, righteousness, faithfulness, grace, forgiveness,
love! Love … love…
When I stop! … at the cross
I can see the love of God.[ii]
That is what holds our life together…now and always.
[i] Douglas John Hall, The Confessing Church, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996, p. 133.
[ii]Godfrey Birtill, from Celtic Daily Prayer
Sunday Feb 02, 2020
Sunday Jan 26, 2020
Sunday Jan 26, 2020
“The Tie That Unbinds”
Preached by Will Ed Green on Sunday January 26th, 2020
Foundry United Methodist Church
Prayer before sermon:
Lord Jesus Christ, you have called to be those who proclaim your Gospel. Who together—united in the beautiful, messy realities of our diverse human experience—witness through our work and worship what is possible when we lay down our division for the sake of the kin-dom to which we’re called. So come now, and move ocne more among your people. May your Spirit breathe life into these words of Scripture that they may take root in our hearts. May your Love be shed upon every spirit here, that we may be ever more transformed into your image. Hide me now behind the cross of Christ, that it, and it's promise, power, and grace will be what is spoken of in these next moments. For it is through that cross you have called us, and by that cross you have set us free. Amen.
Sermon text:
There was something wrong in Corinth. By the time Paul wrote the words we read today, the community was being torn apart by factions who insisted that they—and not whoever their “them” was—had cornered the marked on correct Christianity. The word commonly interpreted as “division” here is ‘schisma,’ or schism—literally a tear or rift—in their community. The growing factionalism that was beginnging to define their life together was ripping a hole in the fabric of their witness and preventing them from fully living into the work to which they’d been called.
Paul doesn’t mince words in his response. He calls the people to be united—that is rejoined or knit together—by remembering who it was that called them and to what they’d been called in first place. It’s important to note here that this isn’t about ending disagreement or avoiding conflict. Nor is it about insisting on doctrinal conformity or institutional authority. Paul doesn’t have any time for that. No, the words he uses, in their original form, remind the ancient reader that God knits us together in a common identity IN diversity from which we derive strength, hope, wisdom, and power—not so that we gain status or righteousness—but so that we can be who God calls us to be in the world for the sake OF the world and one another. Anything which detracts from that identity and work has no place in Christian community.
This begins, he concludes, with the radical re-orientation of the Corinthian mindset accomplished not through cults of personality or popular preachers or right liturgical observance, but through the simple and confounding message of the cross—the symbol of Roman oppression and state-sanctioned violence which through Christ’s death and resurrection became for the believer a symbol, in the words prophet-teacher James Cone “of God’s solidarity with the oppressed and power to bring hope out of despair, victory out of defeat, and life out of death.”
Gathered in the shadow of the cross, on which Jesus’ model of self-sacrificial love hangs, there is no time for social climbing or political posturing. There’s no room for those who would prefer to procure power at all costs or insist upon the absolute authority of their interpretation or perspective. There’s no sense in protecting or perfecting institutional hierarchies. Because if our model for life together is the cross, if that’s the tie that binds us together in community, then it insists upon the urgency of a life lived—and even lost—for the sake of those God calls us to serve.
But doesn’t it feel good to draw a line in the sand? For all the eloquent words preachers and teachers and modern-day gurus can offer about unity in diversity and recognizing our common humanity, there’s something so natural to the human heart to withdraw into community with those of like mind and affect, and position ourselves—define ourselves even—by the the ways that others are different from us. Democrats and republicans and libertarians and socialists. Methodists and baptists and presbyterians and non-denominationalists. Reconciling Congregations and Wesley Covenant Associations and UM Forward-ers and goodness only knows what comes next. We’re a people who love circling the wagons and making sure folks know we aren’t them, whoever our them might be.
Now, I’m not sure that Paul would find any fault in gathering like-minded folk together. I’m not even convinced he’d condemn the multiplicity of denominations, sects, political affiliations, or theological ideologies so common in the world today. But I am convinced—especially for those who call themselves Christian—that he would most certainly challenge any sectarian inclination among us that distracts us from the common identity we share in Jesus Christ and the common work of liberation, justice, mercy, and love which to which Christ calls us.
Christianity is not, after all, a competitive sport. Our work is not to win out in the theological or political free-for-alls in which we currently find ourselves. Our mission is not to convert those on the other side of whichever aisle we find ourselves to our perspective on things. Our call is not to build up institutions to protect our particular identity or ideology.
Instead, our work is to heal the sick, feed the hungry, liberate the oppressed, and proclaim the freedom offered to us through God’s love. Our mission is to live a life so transformed by the Gospel of Jesus Christ that it invites the whole world to come and see what God’s love holds for them. Our call is to be faithful in living in right relationship with God and with one another, trusting that despite our differences when we are faithful to that call God will be faithful to bringing to fruition in us God’s purpose and plan.
This is why the unity Paul’s talking about, and the common foundation of the cross he emphasizes, is so important. When we fall into the false security of segregating ourselves along political, theological, or ideological lines we dilute the power of that work and risk reducing our witness to a moment in history rather than a movement which is building up the Kin-dom of God. When we limit our ‘them-s’ “those peoples” to the narrow categories we create for them we denying the power of God to transform and change even the most hardened of hearts—and assume it’s their hearts, and not our own, which are hardened in the first place. When we limit our own identity to a particular tribe, or define ourselves solely in opposition to another, we limit the ways that God may be calling us to grow and work in the world.
The power of the cross is precisely in the fact it does not do these things. Rather than pointing to a God who exacts vengeance, we receive the love of a God who desires reconciliation with the world. Rather than pointing to a God who draws lines between the righteous and unrighteousness, we hear Jesus say to one crucified next to him, today you will be with me in paradise. Rather than pointing to a god who’s kingdom is built upon the doctrine of might makes right, we see a God who’s kin-dom rests upon life lived for the sake of others and love shared so freely that anyone who desires to do so can find their place in it.
The cross stands—as one hymnist writes—“o’r the wrecks of time” as a testament to what we can accomplish when we reject the idea that we must be defined by our differences and reclaim the power that comes when we speak with one heart and mind. The cross offers life which denominational squabbling and doctrinal division and all the raging of those who would pit us against one another cannot kill. The cross which offers the gift of love freely to all who would receive it, erasing the need for “them” and “us” and establishing a way of life in which unity is found in the richness of our diversity, not in absolutism or conformity.
So who is your “them”? Those people over there who do those things you’re too good to do? The ones you’re too smart for. Too progressive for. Too conservative for.
Who are they? Do you know their names? Their stories? Their fears and doubts? Their joys and hopes? Or have they just become objects in your mind around which you build a sense of self? How much energy do you expend keeping them at arms length? How much energy might you have—to live with greater joy, to love more abundantly, to laugh with greater abandon—if you didn’t? What might we be able to do if instead of limiting ourselves to us and them we spoke with one voice on behalf of those the world gives no voice at all?
The gift of Christ’s love—given freely on the cross—is that it liberates us from a world of them-s and those people so that the whole world might be free. It is the tie that binds our hearts to one another and liberates us—unbinds us—to fully live as those who need no them’s or those people at all. As we lean into whatever comes next for us—as a nation, as a denomination, as a congregation, as the human family—I pray that we might find that freedom. And that, through it, we might be together a church and world united not by ideological purity or conformity, but in the beauty and wonder of our diversity.
Sunday Jan 19, 2020