Give Them Hope

Summary

March 15, 2020
The Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry
“Give Them Hope”
Scripture Reference: Matthew 5: 13-16

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled under foot. “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

When we arrived at out second congregation, they were in the midst of their third capital campaign in a row. For a young pastor, it was a quick tutorial in debt, in capital resources, in stewardship. After two years it was clear that we needed to do the impossible. We needed to have a fourth capital campaign.
There is always debate over such a step, let a fourth one. But the debate over this campaign was fierce as the two men who led the three previous campaigns, Fred and Jim, were at odds. They were dear friends and respected each other greatly, but on this they were categorically opposed.
The session was in a quandary so they agreed to let the people decide as they would decide anyway in a campaign. The congregational meeting was intense. Many people spoke for and against. But most were waiting to see what Fred and Jim would say.
Fred appealed to the need to grow and how if we don’t move forward, we lose all the gains we fought hard to achieve. Jim brought the hammer. This is a bad idea, the wrong time, and poor financial planning. He will not contribute to this campaign if it goes forward. And if that is so, the campaign will surely fail.
Jim’s threat backfired. Telling people in the Northwest they cannot do something pretty much guarantees they will do it if for no other reason than no one should tell them what they can or cannot do. The campaign was approved. A consultant was hired, and a leadership team was formed.
Even though things were moving ahead, everyone leading the campaign felt a great deal of anxiety. It is one thing to take the audacious step of a fourth campaign but do it with the largest giver of the church saying, “I’m out and you are going to fail,” well, that is tough. And then, it all changed. It all changed as we came together for the night of our first campaign meeting, September 11, 2001.
Even before people made it to the table that night, as they were walking down the hallway or into the room, they just started to sob, weep. You know: the world you woke up to the day before was gone. All the plans, the worries were recast. Certainties, sureties vanished. Finally, we all took a deep breath and took a seat at the table and said a prayer. I will never forget the conversation that followed. Some were quick to say, we can’t go forward. Then there were others who said, asking for money in the time of a tragedy just seems tawdry and wrong.
And then, one of the elders said, “I see this in another way.” After a pause and fighting back tears he said, “we need to give people hope; we need to lead by example; we need to lift up the fallen. This is a moment where we show our strength continues. This is a tragic day we will endure; we need to live a faithful life that rises above. We need to give people hope.”
And then everybody cried. After the tears, though, there was a calm and sense of peace. We knew what to do.
At the end of the campaign the consultant came to meet with me. He said, he wanted to chat with me. “I’ve never seen this,” he said. “Been doing this a lot of years, haven’t seen this.” What he hadn’t seen was an oversubscribed campaign without any large gifts. It was as if everyone stepped up together. “This is a remarkable thing,” he told me.
Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth; You are the light of the world.” In this he says we are what sustains each other, holds each other together; and, we are what inspires and guides each other.
When I think of the long debates and arguments for the fourth campaign, arguments that sometimes got a bit pointed, in these long debates I was learning what salt was. If you are going to sustain something, preserve something, keep it alive, you need risk and hard work and tenacity and grit and courage. As a young pastor I was given a crash course on what it meant to carry the water, do the impossible, overcome the odds. And, I was given a great truth about the church, you are the light. In you are the very same words the elder spoke, in you are the same words inspiring us to move forward, in you is the hope ever faithful in the midst of fear.
When you lead a tour like we just took to Israel, as a pastor you spend a lot of time talking with the guide, working with the guide, gaining some sort of rhythm because you spend a lot of time together and you need to be in sync. This last week I spent a good deal of time with a man whose life had just been canceled for the season. His livelihood, his plans, his peace were evaporating. Mic is his name. In the end Mic will be fine; he has a family and a church and a community and if you have lived the last fifty years in Israel/Palestine, you know setbacks are not the end. But watching him reminded me of that first meeting, the sense of uncertainty.
I have led a congregation through a national tragedy and a market crash. Yet, I must confess, this feels unique and it is. It all seemed very far off until the markets started falling. It seemed very exotic (China and South Korea) and then it was Italy and now Spain. It seemed far off until I walked for a week with a man where it was all too close. Again and again we said, “never seen this one.”
Let’s say it feels more than unique, this is unsettling and bizarre. Where somedays this is a scare and then other days it is the Spanish Influenza again. At one point this is a market reaction and then it’s a recession or a crash. As a pastor I am not the one to speak to financial uncertainty caused by a pandemic. Will it get worse or stabilize? Will it last or be over soon? Will this lead to other problems or be contained? Don’t know.
Yet, as a pastor I know three things that are important at this unique time.
First, fear and panic and worry make all things worse. They just do. I know I cannot tell you not to fear, but I can tell you not to trust it, not to follow it. Fear leads to anger and hatred and vengeance and disdain. If we follow fear, we make things worse.
Consider how much fear is all about us. We cannot ignore it; but we must not follow it. To follow fear is the temptation for destruction and discord and abuse. You will experience fear and panic, but this is not the place to put your trust, to guide you. Don’t ignore fear; but do not follow it; do not let it guide you actions and decisions.
Next, I know this: you are the salt of the earth. We sustain each other, keep one another. Right now, this truth is so important. Our worship life for three Sunday will change. Things will be different. And how we relate to each will be different. But we have the friendships and the love for one another that sustains the goodness of life.
Right now, there is a sense of flight, of hunkering down and distance. Yet, what if now is a time of tenacious creativity to find ways to connect? What if now is the moment where you don’t need an excuse to call, to drop off food, to check on someone to see if they have toilet paper. You are the salt of the earth, that’s why you are calling to check in on the neighbor, the friend, person who sits in the pew next to you.
Here’s a challenge for the week. If you know the names of the people who sit next to you in the pew on Sunday morning, send them a note, an email, give them a call. Check in, see how they are doing. If you don’t know, call the church office, we can probably figure it out or give you a name to call for someone who may be very isolated at this time. Be the salt of the earth.
You may have some free time this week. Consider who sustained you, who made a way for you. Call them if you can and say thank you. Or, give thanks to God that they did what they did for you. In a time of distancing, connect. Be bold; be not afraid.
The last thing I know today is that you are light of the world. In you are the words of inspiration. In you are words of hope. Your heart has beauty and goodness and truth. Good words are in you.
Let fear cease and panic subside, and worry leave the room and may dread be sent far away so you can hear your heart, hear those good words.
Like the elder who spoke almost twenty years ago, whose words are still on my heart, you have those words in you too. But you can’t hear them with dread. Putting aside fear and choosing peace not only resists the temptation to anger and disdain, it also allows us to hear what is good and true and beautiful. And we need to hear this from you; we need to hear this from each other. For you are the light of the world.
The elders will meet on Tuesday to discern the best way forward. Already, though, they are thinking and praying for you. My favorite response so far, the one that inspired me was from Roland Staal who wisely suggested we learn from the NBA. I loved this. No advisory protocols or keep on and carry on (which was my recommendation). Do what the NBA did. Thanks Roland.
We are taking a pause in communal worship, but not in communal care. Take this week and remember: you are salt of the earth; you are the light of the world. Preserve one another, remember one another, reach out to one another.
Lastly, we will spend some time this week trying to discern what needs in the community may arise that a congregation can meet given the call for social distance and no large gatherings. You are an exceedingly bright group of people so we will find the ways. We will be the church Metuchen expects us to be in times of joy and times of challenge.
Don’t be led by fear.
Be the salt.
Be the light.
Amen.