Called Out

Matthew 16:13-20

January 31, 2016 • Mount Pleasant UMC

I love the church. I grew up in church. I was baptized at the Sedalia Methodist Episcopal Church, and shortly after that, that church was closed. (I don’t think there was a connection between those two events!) So I grew up at the Rossville United Methodist Church, and we were one of those families who was in church most every time the doors were open. My parents served on most every committee there was, my Dad took me from a very young ago to the United Methodist Men’s breakfasts and we rarely missed worship. I was in youth group, youth choir, and even directed the children’s choir for a time. I love the local church, and I believe, as Bill Hybels has said, that the local church is the hope of the world. Our own Book of Discipline puts it this way: “Local churches provide the most significant arena through which disciple-making occurs” (para. 120, 2012 Discipline). In other words, if our mission—making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world—is going to be accomplished, it’s going to happen because of and through the local church. This local church and every other one scattered throughout our city and the world. The church is where we best learn to follow Jesus. I love the church.

And that’s why it pains me when I hear people say, as they often do today, things like, “I love Jesus, but I don’t like the church.” This week, another local pastor and I were talking about just that, and he said when someone tells him that, he responds in a way that’s a bit more blunt than I would (though I don’t disagree with him): “Well, then, you really don’t love Jesus, because he loves the church.” Jesus gave his life for the church. He established the church. He cares about local churches.

Now, no one would ever say the church is perfect. The church, including local churches, don’t always get it right. We’re made up of imperfect human beings and sometimes we say things we ought not to say. Sometimes we behave in ways that are not Christ-like. But even after 2,000 years of stumbles and falls and poor plans and outright embarrassment, the church is still Jesus’ plan A for reaching the world—and there is no plan B. That’s why the second of the three critical questions we’re looking at in this season leading up to Lent is this: “Why do people need the church?”

We titled this series, “Yours, Mine and Ours,” partly because sometimes we get confused about who owns the church. We refer to the church as “my church” or even, frighteningly enough, as “the pastor’s church.” We might even call it “our church.” But the reality is that “the church” doesn’t belong to anyone here. It doesn’t belong to a denomination or a community. We, in fact, are the church, and as the church, we belong to Jesus. It’s not yours, mine or ours. The church belongs to Jesus. Let me explain what I mean by taking you back to a place in northern Israel called Caesarea Philippi. There, around a campfire, Jesus began to talk to those who had followed him about this thing called church.

Jesus has taken the disciples far away from their normal environment. Caesarea Philippi is twenty-five miles away from Galilee, and while that’s a short drive for us, it’s a long walk for Jesus and the disciples. And I can’t help but wonder what they talked about during that walk, since in the passage just before this, Jesus had chastised the disciples for their lack of faith (cf. Card, Matthew: The Gospel of Identity, pg. 150). Perhaps it’s that very incident that causes him to take them away on a retreat of sorts, to help them refocus. And he couldn’t have picked a place further from Jewish religious influences. Caesarea Philippi is about as far north as they could go and still be connected to Israel. There were few places as religious as Caesarea; in many ways, it was the place where Jewish faith and pagan Roman faith met (Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Volume 2, pg. 133). When we were there in 2012, I was amazed at how many temples had once stood there. It was a veritable smorgasbord of religion, sort of a shopping mall for faith. The temples are all in ruins today, of course, but you can tell that in one particular area there was temple next to temple next to temple. There were, at one time, fourteen temples dedicated to Baal, the ancient Canaanite god that is mentioned often in the Old Testament. There were temples to Pan, the Greek god of nature, and in fact, it came to be believed that Pan was born in Caesarea. A large cave is still there that is supposed to be his birthplace; it’s known as “the gates of hell.” Beyond that, the place was once called Panias; today it’s still called Banias, which is just a corruption of the original name. And then, once the Romans took over, a huge white marble temple dedicated to Caesar was built; you could see it from quite a distance away (Barclay 134). Needless to say, if you wanted religion, you went to Caesarea. And it’s in that setting where Jesus asks his disciples the question Pastor Rick called us to answer last week: “Who do you say I am?” (16:15).

That’s the first critical question we have to answer: why do people need Jesus? Why do we need Jesus? Peter answers for the disciples when he declares Jesus to be the savior of the world, the one who is the Son of the living God (16:16). But we can’t rely on Peter’s confession; we each have to decide who Jesus is for us. It’s at that point, at the point where at least one of the disciples gives “the right answer,” that Jesus focuses on his plan for reaching the world. He commends Peter for his answer, and then he says this: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades [or Hell] will not overcome it” (16:18). As we think about why people need this church, this is the passage I want us to focus on as we think first about what the church is, what it’s built on and why not even Hell can stand against it.

First of all, if we’re going to say people need the church, we ought to know what the church is. This, I think, is where a lot of people get hung up when they say they love Jesus but not the church. We think of the church as a building. Or we think of the church as an institution, or a denomination. And it can be confusing, not only to us but especially to people who are on the “outside,” because we use that word, “church,” to describe all those things. Mount Pleasant Church. The United Methodist Church. And so on. But the word Jesus uses here does not describe a building nor a denomination nor an institution. Those are the modes and methods we have used as human beings to try to organize ourselves and get things done. (Sometimes when people tell me they don’t like organized religion, I sarcastically respond that they should try disorganized religion and see if that’s any better!) Now, Jesus is not speaking Greek here, even though the original text is written in Greek. Jesus is speaking Aramaic, and the word he likely uses here is quahal, a word used in the Old Testament to describe the gathering of the people of God, the congregation of Israel (Barclay 142). The word in the text is ekklesia, from which we get our church-word “ecclesiastical.” That word also refers to a gathering of people, a congregation. It literally means “the called out ones.” It was used in Greek and Roman society to refer to a group of citizens called out from their homes to an assembly of some sort—perhaps a city vote, or a town meeting. It could refer to a town council or a group of people united for a single cause. The early church took that word and used it refer to the gathering of Christians, those who were brought together because of their love for Jesus. So “the church is not a building, nor a religious institution, nor an ethnic group, but is the company of the committed” (Augsburger, Communicator’s Commentary: Matthew, pg. 203). The church is us.

And the church is all of us, no matter the label on the door. As John Wesley famously said, if someone’s heart beats for Christ as ours does, then they are our brothers and sisters. Church is not just about the people we like. Church is bigger than that. It’s the congregation of all who claim the name of Jesus. There may be people sitting here this morning whom you don’t like, and there almost certainly are people sitting in other church buildings this morning whom you don’t like or you don’t agree with. Some of them are probably from the other political party and may even be voting for that candidate you can’t stand. Some might believe differently than you do on abortion or homosexuality or global warming or any other hot button issue you can think of. And, more than that, some may be here this morning and in other places who are hurting, who have lost loved ones, who are suffering from a silent illness, who are angry and bitter, who are upset with you. They are all part of the church if they claim the name of Jesus. They are part of the called out ones. They are the ekklesia. And do you know why? Because it’s not our church. It doesn’t matter how long or short you have been a member or attending here, how much money you give or how much time you spend here, this is not your church. Did you notice what Jesus said? He promised to build—whose church? His church. “On this rock I will build my church” (16:18, emphasis added). The church is the company of those who are committed to Jesus.

That leads us, then, to ask what this “rock” is that he’s building the church on. Jesus tells Peter, “On this rock I will build my church” (16:18). What is the “rock” he’s talking about? Well, Peter’s original name was Simon, but Jesus called him Peter, which means “Rock.” So is it true, as our Catholic brothers and sisters believe, that the church is built on Peter himself? That’s the reason for the whole line of Popes, going back to Peter himself. The Rock is understood to be Peter, and each Pope that is selected stands in the line of Peter. The church is built on their authority. But, as Protestants, we don’t understand it that way. Rather, it seems by naming Peter this way, Jesus is certainly making a play on words, but if the church is the company of the committed, the called out ones, what is it that grows the church? What is it that “builds” the church? The church grows as each person makes the same confession Peter does here in this passage. When each person says to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God,” the church is built. I believe the “rock” Jesus builds his church on here is Peter’s confession—and your confession, and mine (cf. Augsburger 204).

This is an important part of Jesus’ word to us today, because it’s absolutely critical that we pass the faith on to the next generation. Any local church is always only one generation away from closing its doors if it fails to pass on the faith to that generation, if we fail to help those coming behind us confess faith in Jesus. That’s why we have invested heavily in staffing with preschool, children’s ministry and youth ministry. That’s why, in our ReBuild efforts, we’re remodeling those ministry areas to reach a new generation. That’s why we have Youth Sunday, and if you missed the Youth Sunday two weeks ago, you missed a real blessing as the youth, through skits, songs and testimonies, shared their confession, their faith. I’ve had several people tell me it was the best Youth Sunday ever, and I don’t think they said that just because my daughter was one of the speakers! Something is happening among our youth here at Mount Pleasant, and that ought to give us great hope. But we can’t rest and say the work is done. In a culture where only about twenty percent of the population is involved in or attending worship regularly, there are plenty of people to reach, to invite to become a part of the company of the committed.

Then there’s this one other piece of what Jesus says in verse 18: “the gates of Hades will not prevail against it,” “it” being the church, the called out assembly. Some older translations say “gates of Hell,” but “Hades” is the literal translation, referring to the realm of the dead. In other words, the church is the body that will triumph over even death itself. Jesus is giving a foreshadowing of his own resurrection, that death will not be victorious over those who trust in him, those who are part of the company of the committed. No matter what the world, the flesh and the devil (cf. Ephesians 2:2-3) throw at us, they cannot ultimately win. One of the true joys I have in ministry is to stand by a graveside or in a funeral home and proclaim the certain hope we have: death has no victory. Death will not win. Jesus will win. Death is no longer a threat because Jesus is risen from the dead, and his resurrection is the promise of our own (1 Corinthians 15:20). That’s a promise we need in these last couple of weeks, more than ever. Death is a defeated foe.

So, with all of that said, then let’s turn back to our original question: why do people need the church? If that is who the church is, why is the church necessary? Or are we just wasting our time here? Maybe the critics are right that we can worship God just as well out on the golf course (and I understand God’s name is spoken quite a bit on the golf course) or in my own home. The problem with that is that, while a person may indeed believe in God or even in Jesus while at home, that person is not exercising New Testament Christianity. The Bible knows nothing of solitary religion; the Scriptures call us over and over again to community. John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, put it this way: “Christianity is essentially a social religion, and…to turn it into a solitary religion is indeed to destroy it” (qtd. in Jones, The Wesleyan Way, pg. 70). Jesus modeled this in his ministry, with his traveling band of disciples, a small community. And after his resurrection, the story of the spread of the Gospel is the story of establishing churches—gatherings of the called out ones. Even the final book of the Bible, Revelation, is addressed to seven local churches, scattered across Asia Minor. New Testament Christianity is about community; you are meant to be a part of a community if you are a follower of Jesus.

Another Biblical reason we need the church is because we shape one another. We help each other understand what God is up to and what the Scriptures say. On my own, all I ever hear is my own words and my own ideas. I need other voices to help me grow. Proverbs 27:17 reminds us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Ecclesiastes tells us, “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken” (4:12). We are stronger together; or, as Pastor Rick reminds us, we’re better together. And, one more reminder from the Scriptures, from the book of Hebrews, where the author urges his readers to “spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching” (10:24-25). We need each other, we need community, so that we can better be shaped into the image of Jesus, so that we can become all that we were meant to be.

Let’s think about it this way. A couple of weeks ago, I went to the doctor and they made me get on the scales. I protested, because I know what all these good meals at Mount Pleasant have done to me. However, the nurse insisted, and there was my sin of indulgence spread out there in digital numbers. I am heavier than I have ever been in my life, and while the nurse was nonchalant about it, I was embarrassed. I know better. I know not to eat the dessert, but that brownie bite is so tempting! I know I need to exercise, to get out and walk and that I should make two laps around my neighborhood rather than just one. But, by myself, I can justify all sorts of things. By myself, I know what I should do, but more often than not, I don’t do it unless someone is holding me accountable. I need someone to ask me the hard questions, to challenge my growth in taking care of myself. I observe that the same thing happens to those who say they can worship on their own. They might have the right idea, but no one is holding them accountable. No one is asking the hard questions. No one is sharpening them into the image of Jesus. We need the church for accountability, for fellowship, and sometimes just for the strength to make it through the day. That’s one reason small groups are so important with the Celebrate Recovery ministry—someone is asking the hard questions each and every week. We need that for our spiritual growth, too. And we need community. One reason I am so thankful for our shut-in visitation teams who go out every single week is that they are an avenue for those who are no longer able to be present in worship to stay connected to the body of Christ. Our teams take CDs of the services and even holy communion and they represent you and me. They become the church there for those who aren’t able to be out and about. Fellowship, accountability, community—we need all those things if we are going to become all that God intends for us to be. And, lo and behold, all of those things are found in the church that Jesus came to establish.

The story is told of Dr. Dennis Campbell, when he was dean of the Duke University Divinity School, walking to church one morning when it was pouring down rain. Some students who were driving by saw him and called out to him, inviting him to get into their car where it was dry (and probably hoping it might improve their grades as well!). When he got in, they asked where he was headed, and he said, “I’m going to church.” One of the students said to him, “Why did you decide to go to church this morning, when it’s pouring down rain?” And Dean Campbell said to him, “Young man, I didn’t decide to go to church this morning. I decided to be part of the church when I began following Jesus Christ. It’s not even something I have to think about or decide. I need the church, and I need to be in worship.” We need the church; we need worship. It shapes us and makes us who we are. We need the church. Jesus knew we would, and that’s why he built it on the rock of Peter’s confession, and yours, and mine.

Let me point out, quickly, something Jesus doesn’t say about the church. Nowhere does Jesus say that he built the church for our comfort, for our sake, for our needs or preferences, or even to serve us. In fact, as the whole of the New Testament reminds us, Jesus built the church for the sake of those who aren’t here yet. He calls us out, calls us together so that we can reach those who aren’t yet a part of the fellowship. You can tell the difference between a local church that exists for itself, for its members’ comfort, and one that exists for the sake of others, for reaching out into the community, for making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. Remember the scene that takes place in Matthew 20, just a few chapters over from where we read this morning. Matthew tells us that the mother of James and John, two of the disciples, comes to Jesus and asks that her sons be put in the place of honor when he sets up his kingdom. (Mark, written earlier, tells us straight up it was James and John themselves who came to Jesus. Either way, it’s obvious that they have a strong desire to be important.) Jesus tells them they don’t know what they are asking, and then reminds all of the disciples, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (20:28). On his last night with the disciples, he gave them a model to follow: he washed feet. “I have set you an example,” he said, “that you should do as I have done for you” (John 13:15). Paul put it this way: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:3-4). The world says to look after number one; Jesus says to look after everyone else. Jesus says put others first. Jesus says to not demand our own way. Jesus says to become a servant. That’s what the church is to be about. That’s how we will accomplish our mission—not by needing endless meetings, but by meeting endless needs.

So what if—what if—we took that seriously? What if we engaged in an experiment over the next three months? That will take us through Lent and to about a month after Easter. But here’s the challenge: what if each one of us here this morning committed to serving at least one hour a week for the next ninety days? At least one hour a week for ninety days. So what do I mean by serve? Anything that isn’t me-focused, self-centered, so that excludes complaining. But here are some things you could do: write an encouraging note (perhaps a “thinking of you” card) to someone else in the church or in the community. Go with one of the shut-in teams to visit. Serve at Lighthouse Mission or 14th & Chestnut Community Center. Offer to take the place of one of the folks who serve the meals here for BOOST for a week. Volunteer with one of the many projects yet to be completed before we open the new building (and I can tell you who to get in contact with to do that). Get involved in the prayer group that is meeting on Wednesdays at 12:30. Give time to the church nursery or volunteer to help get the preschool rooms up and running. Stop in and see someone in the hospital—it doesn’t even have to be someone you know! Shovel a sidewalk. Take a dish of food to a hurting neighbor or a bag of groceries to that single mom in your neighborhood. Listen to a child read a book or play a board game with them. The possibilities are endless, literally, in a world where service is so far from most people’s minds. Refrain from complaining or demanding the church be for you and instead give an hour a week for the next 13 weeks. Now, let’s say there are about 350 of us who will hear this sermon today. If all of us commit to this experiment, that’s 4,550 hours of service performed by Mount Pleasant Church in this community. If we continued through a whole year doing this, that would be 18,200 hours of service. Or, put another way, that’s the equivalent of someone working almost nine years at 40 hours a week (Rainer, I Will!, pgs. 47-56). What, do you think, will that do to help us make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world?

I know this isn’t easy. This past week, I had a rare evening when no one else was home and I had nothing on the calendar to accomplish. I was looking forward to an evening of relaxation, and then something came up. An opportunity to serve, to try to make a small difference in someone’s life. It would take time out of my free evening, and I really didn’t want to do it, but I knew I should. So I went, and then tried every step along the way to talk myself out of it. I don’t want to do this, I’m giving up precious free time, and so on and so forth. But I can tell you that when I was done, when I saw the small difference I was able to make, it made losing that time worth it. I got to see Jesus use me, as the church, to touch someone else’s life. And I wondered what might happen if I do that on a regular basis?

Now, to push this just a bit further into the area of community, you can do this experiment individually, but what if you did it with your LifeGroup? What if your Sunday School class decided on something to do together, or your singing group, or whatever group you are a part of? Such an experiment will change your group and it will change the congregation. I guarantee it, because this is where joy comes from. This is when the church is at its best. And this is how others will see the value, importance and need for the church yet in today’s world. We’ve done enough “talking the talk.” It’s time for the church to walk the walk. So will you be the church this week and into the weeks to come? Will you give an hour a week in service to others beyond yourself? Are you ready to be the church? Let’s pray.