The resurrection changes everything. The world of the disciples and our world is jolted by the news of the power of life emerging from death. The Acts of the Apostles, which will be the focus of our attention for three weeks, is about the response to the resurrection--the beginnings of the church. While things like structure and dogma took decades to develop, the beginnings, as most beginnings, rests within the realm of vision and passion. Christ was raised and there was a message to tell and a new way to live.

We turn to those early years, not to try and live in the first century, a rather foolish goal that some do pursue; we turn back to better understand our roots in order that we might reclaim the vision and passion that makes faith relevant and strong. I rarely preach about church, ecclesiology in the formal language, but I turn to the topic for these reasons:

• we are one of the fortunate congregations--strong and vital. It makes sense for us to know why we are vital and to embrace our good fortune with open eyes and receptive hearts, ready to grow and change.
• we live in a culture of believers, but not belongers, as the sociologists are quick to note. Belonging or committing are problems for many in a rapidly changing consumer society. Institutional loyalty and trust are in short supply in our society... often for understandable reasons.

And, I turn to the church for the fact that:

• I am committed to growing strong Presbyterian congregations and I am convinced that even we old, main-line denominations have an important place within the good news of the gospel in the 21st century.

In the second chapter of Acts, Peter delivered a sermon interpreting the power of the Spirit of Pentecost, based upon the resurrection of Jesus. Peter spoke boldly of the power of God and the people were “cut to the heart,” Luke tells us, and crowds sought to be baptized. The church was forming. And what did they do? Luke lines it out: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayers.” They sold what they had and “gave to all, as any had need.” And, in a marvelous phrase, Luke tells us that they “ate their food with glad and generous hearts.” Glad and generous hearts: what a marvelous way to live! Glad and generous heats--a fine goal. And the objectives to achieve this goal (we are 21st century, organization-minded folk, after all): they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship; the breaking of bread and prayers; and generosity. Sounds like a long, three-part sermon, or, in this case, three sermons for this preacher.

Part one: they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship.

We Presbyterians are a studious lot. Teaching, learning and fellowship are fundamental to who we are; it’s in our history. Travel the world and you’ll find schools and hospitals founded by Presbyterians. And, yes, they even can play basketball at Davidson--one of the best of the Presbyterian colleges in the country. We study and teach. The educational requirements of Presbyterian pastors are of the highest in Christendom. We still require that candidates for ministry study in Greek and Hebrew, our pastors need at least the equivalent of a Masters of Divinity and study leave is required of all clergy. When I interviewed for this position back in 1999 someone on the search committee said, “We ask that our new pastor have an earned Doctor of Ministry or Ph. D. Now, we don’t use titles around here so don’t expect to be called Doctor Hathaway, but we expect you to have it.” I remember thinking, “I like these folks!” We are a church that expects that the pastor will do the homework and have something thoughtful as well as faithful to say on a Sunday morning. You keep me on my toes... and engaged. I am grateful for this fact and find myself fortunate that many of you read as much theology as Heather and I. And for all who do not have the time or sense of calling to theological study, you know that it is part of the body, the church.

We are a church that has the role of elder. We are in the Reformed tradition that values the theologically educated member. As some of you have learned the hard way, the title “elder” means something around the world. Presbyterian elders are asked to pray and preach when visiting the mission field. It is part of our tradition. We symbolize that in the most practical of ways: nearly every service of worship includes a member as liturgist, a role that, fortunately, is taken quite seriously in our congregation.

Barbara Wheeler, who knows her Presbyterian history, tells of the time in the Church of Scotland when the elders would usher the pastor in and out of worship. At the end of the sermon the lead elder would shake the hand of the pastor if the sermon was deemed to be theologically sound. Note: the question was not whether the sermon was entertaining or engaging--theologically poor sermons can be engaging and popular (every generation masquerades greed in the form of the theology of wealth, for example)--the elder was to evaluate the theological content of the sermon. In the Uniting Reformed Church of South Africa, the elders pray for the congregation before worship, usher the pastor in, sit in the elders’ pews, then usher the pastor out after worship to pray that the word of God take hold among the people. We Americans place a higher value on the minister being friendly and easily accessible, so we go to a receiving line or coffee hour after worship... but we still pray that the word of God might take hold of your life.

We take the word of God seriously and we study. Let’s be clear: the Reformed branch of Christendom and we Presbyterians, one twig of this Reformed branch, have never been huge in numbers and far from the majority. But we have an important place in the Christian story and the church universal still looks to us to provide an educational niche within the ecumenical church. Our seminaries, for example, provide worldwide theological leadership. Our witness to loving God with our minds is an important one, particularly in contrast to the appeal of anti-intellectualism within the various forms of fundamentalism found in all faith communities. At our best, we Presbyterians are rigorous in study, demanding of mind and open to learn.

In my youth, I left the Presbyterian Church for a few years. I may have been a bit odd, but part of my rebellion was not against church and faith, in general, but an argument with the particular church of my upbringing. I found my Presbyterian church a bit short on commitment, thin on passion and shy before the great justice issues of the 1960's. I wanted some passion and fire... so I wandered for a while.... to a Bible Church, to Roman Catholic mass for a couple of years, compliments of a college girlfriend. In college I helped form a house church with a common kitchen and treasury that included the discipline of a weekly fast with donations to a food pantry. (I still can’t quite believe that my parents went along with that one.) And I read the Bible along with taking introduction to Bible at the University of Illinois. I was exposed to critical thought and modern scholarship. A number of things led me back to the Presbyterian Church and the most important was the seriousness of study and the intellectual honesty of our tradition. In reading the Bible I discovered that there are two creation stories, two differing accounts of the birth of Jesus and at least four accounts of the resurrection (creation, incarnation and resurrection being fundamental to the Christian faith). It became more than obvious to me that biblical literalism is an intellectual impossibility. So, I found my way back to the Presbyterian church, where critical thought joins mystery and the mind is encouraged to encounter wonder. Fortunately, I also discovered Presbyterians who are passionate about faith and deeply committed to justice.

Presbyterians worship God with our whole bodies, mind included. We do not check our brains at the door.

Lest you think that this is just a feel good sermon and a love fest of Presbyterian tradition, the word today also has a bit of a coarser edge. How well do we know the story, the biblical story of Jesus and his love, the American story of Protestants within a land of religious freedom and tolerance? When someone starts an argument, “The Bible says...” and you have a hunch that they are probably dead wrong, can you reply with a biblical argument? Too many Presbyterians say, “Well, I don’t know what the Bible says but this is what I think...” Turning away from the Bible undermines the integrity of faith, the strength of the church. Christians turn to the Bible.

Here are two brief stories about the intersection of study and faith. How many times have you heard an argument begin with the premise, “You know that we are a Christian nation founded on Christian principles”? The church today gets all confused with nationalism, in part, by not being honest with our history. Our nation’s founders included Christians, agnostics and Deists, making up the majority. Thomas Jefferson, one of the key intellectual leaders, was a Deist, not a Christian. He’d be offended if lumped into the Christian crowd. Then add Jews and Native American religions and you start seeing the mix. Our nation was founded on the principle of the freedom of religion and the separation of church and state, not state-sponsored Christianity. The inability or unwillingness of some to engage the truth of our history is remarkably damaging to the public good. We need to tell our history accurately. We need Christians with intellectual honesty.

The past two weeks have seen a media frenzy over some sound clips from the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, the U.C.C. pastor from Chicago, where Barack Obama worships. Just think how different the current flap over Jeremiah Wright would be if a greater percentage of the population knew something about the biblical prophets and the role of the biblical prophets in the history of the Civil Rights movement and the African American church? Go read the prophet Jeremiah, the namesake of Jeremiah Wright, and see what that loyal Jew said about his beloved country. He railed against the sins of Israel, the land he loved, and talked as if God was the potter and Israel the clay where God would dash and break that clay called Israel because of its sin. Do you think that if we, as a people, knew our own biblical story we might better understand the prophets of today, particularly at their times of anger and frustration?

We all have stories that give meaning to our lives. Many have a family story of coming to this country, of getting through the Depression, of the next generation getting a better education and a better life. Some find the story of an ethnic group to be very important. I grew up with a sense of Scandinavian pride--herring and lingonberries and limpa bread... and hard working mid-west Swedish farmers who always had enough to share for the “hoboes” off the train. We share a national story, what it means to be an American. Yet, we gather here to share a particular story, the Christian story. It’s not that the others are unimportant, they just take second seat to the story that brings us together. We are not here to serve one family or tribe or nation. We are not here to be Democrats or Republicans. We are here to view the world through the lens of the mercy of God that we know most vividly through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is this story that forms our unity and guides our practices. It is this story that formed the early church and continues to reform the church today.

We are the church; we study and engage both heart and mind not so much for sure-fired answers as for wonder, not for certainty but for mystery, not for safety from the world as for passion to live in the world... as followers of Jesus Christ. Our church will be strong and vital as long as we remember why we gather and what story holds us together.