Sermon: "Love, Love, Love"

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

The Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC

April 29, 2018 – Fifth Sunday of Easter

1 John 4:7-21

“Love, Love, Love”

If you drive out of the center of the village up Mack Hill,

just before you get to Jones Rd., you’ll see a stone marker,

standing alone on a grassy patch near the corner. 

The front of the stone reads:

“Here was erected the first Meeting-House in Amherst - May 16, 1739.”

I pass by that maker nearly every day on my morning walk,

and as I do I make a point to stop and touch it –

running my hand along the rough granite surface before continuing on.

It’s a little ritual that I began doing shortly after I moved to Amherst in 2012.

There is something magical and awe inspiring about standing on the spot where a building once stood some 275 plus years ago –

and imagining what it looked like, 

imagining what the surrounding countryside must have looked like, 

and imagining the people – as they came walking up the hill on Sunday mornings to attend worship, at the first meeting house of the Congregational Church of Amherst.

While I love historical buildings, including this NEW meetinghouse that we worship in now, which is a mere 244 years old,

it’s the connection to the people that most enamors me -

as I imagine those first colonial settlers placing a whole lot of trust in God, and each other, as they came together to form a church and a community.

In a very literal way, the stone marker on the corner of Mack Hill and Jones Rd. grounds us in our past.

It connects us to the people who ventured into the wilderness, set up the first homesteads, cut and joined together the wooden clapboards of that first meetinghouse, and leaning on the power of love, committed themselves to walking together as a community of faith into an uncertain future.

It wasn’t long after our church was founded and the first building went up, that the new congregation began to experience growing pains.  

As the town grew, the congregation grew, and in the early 1770’s our forbearers made the bold decision to move out of their beloved meeting house and take on the massive project of building this new, larger meeting house at a new location on the town green.

In its first 40 years, the Amherst Congregationalists demonstrated a steadfast and unshakable spirit in the midst of change.

Given this, the Rev. Daniel Wilkins, who had served the church since its founding, felt that once the congregation had settled into this new space they were ready to take on an even bigger challenge.

In the early 1780’s, he suggested they try a new hymnal.

Those of you who’ve heard this story before know where this is going.

When many in the congregation objected to the contemporary 18^th century tunes and language found in the new hymnal, Rev. Wilkins compromised, introducing only one new hymn each week at the end of the service.

It didn’t take long for those who favored the traditional hymns to catch on to this, and soon most of the choir and half the congregation was getting up and walking out before the last hymn was sung.

One church historian recorded,  “The opposers retired from the house rather than hear the words of the devil.”

This continued Sunday after Sunday.

Rev. Wilkins insisted those protesting did not know what they were opposing because they never stayed long enough to actually hear the new hymns.

So he decided to try an experiment.  

One Sunday, he arranged for a pulpit exchange. 

He went to preach at another church, and another minister came to preach here. 

The visiting minister used unfamiliar hymns during the service, as guest preachers sometimes do, and the congregation unquestioningly sang along.  Just before the last hymn, many stood up and exited the sanctuary as usual anticipating a switch to the dreaded contemporary hymnal.

Only afterward did they find out they had been singing from the new hymnal for the entire service.

According to one historian, “After that, their opposition became so ludicrous they were content to say no more about it.”

The challenges that our congregation has faced over the years – big and small – are not unique, as we see when read the first letter of John.

The letters we have preserved in our New Testament offer us a voyeuristic peek into the burgeoning Christian community that existed in the late first century.

Some 60 to 80 years after Jesus had died, the new Christian communities had been around long enough to have a history of their own.

And the church as many had known it was changing.

The founding members had either died or no longer had the energy or enthusiasm they once had.

Long-time members and leaders were leaving – moving on to other churches or founding their own.

New members were coming in who were unfamiliar with the way things were done, bringing new ideas and new expectations that others found challenging and discomforting.

This was a time of transition for the followers of the Way of Jesus -

this once formless and free flowing movement had now existed long enough to set down roots, establish traditions of its own, and become resistant to change – because change upended the feelings of security and comfort that came with what was familiar and predictable.

The writer of the first letter of John, saw this time of transition as an opportunity to remind the community of the reason why they had gathered in the first place:

Love, Love, Love.

“No one has ever seen God;” writes John.

“But if we love one another, God lives in us, and God’s love is perfected in us. By this we know that we abide in God and God abides in us, because God’s Spirit has been given to us.”

We are rooted in God’s love, and God’s love is rooted in us.

It is the unconditional and always present love of God that guides us, sustains us, and grounds us – and births the love we offer to one another.

In the midst of turmoil and unrest – Love guides us.

In the midst of loss and grieving – Love sustains us.

In the midst of change and uncertainty – Love grounds us.

The first part of our current congregation’s Mission Statement says that as a church we are "Grounded in God’s Love."

In all that we do.

In our worship, our music, our fellowship, our attention to spiritual formation and education, our stewardship, our extravagant welcome of all, our service to neighbors near and far.

But it’s important that we also remember that we are Grounded in God’s Love in the midst of the challenges that we face as a community committed to following Jesus – in the midst of shifting membership, budget shortfalls, the demands of an aging building, new structures of leadership, pastoral transitions, and the polarizing cultural climate that we live in today.

As we learn from First John, and the history of our own congregation, we are not the only community of Christ to face challenges.

Some of the manifestations of those challenges may be unique to our time –

neither John’s community nor Rev. Wilkins had to contend with Sunday morning soccer games or Fake News on Facebook –

but the nature of the challenges remains the same –

The challenge of staying Grounded in God’s love amidst the distractions and fears that capture our attention and our hearts.

Being grounded doesn’t mean that we are ummoving or unchanging.

Quite the opposite.

Being grounded in God’s love and our love for one another means that we are intentionally creating a community that encourages and seeks out growth - 

as we look for new ways to experience and express God’s love as individuals and as a community. 

Growth can be exciting and liberating and surprising,

but it also can be painful and messy and at times terrifying.

Novelist Gail Godwin believes we often have no idea what we’re asking for when we ask God to help us to grow. She writes:

“How glibly and thoughtlessly that phrase “God, make us grow” slides off our tongues. As if growth were always a happy matter: Leaves unfurling, blossoms opening, hearts and minds joyously stretching towards more light. Whereas, when we ask for growth we’re asking for a mess. Exploding tempers, privately nursed little Petri dishes of resentments, insecure stumblings into dangerous new places.”

As a community of Christ, God is always beckoning us into dangerous new places.

Places that have us questioning long held assumptions, beliefs, and fears.

As we ask ourselves who is worthy of God’s love – and God responds: everyone is worthy.

As we ask God, who worthy of our love – and God responds: everyone is worthy.

As we continually refuse to believe this to be true and instead seek to rank one another on a scale of worthiness – based on power, wealth, gender, race, religion, ideology, and our own understanding of what constitutes moral or righteous behavior – we stumble and shrink back –

when God urges us to move forward and grow.

A few months ago, a friend of mine posted a picture of the door-frame in her kitchen.

On it she had marked the height measurements of her 5-year old son. 
Looking at the multiple lines and dates you could see that her little boy had grown 4 inches in the last 6 months.

Below the photo, my friend had commented,

“For any and all who been dealing with my moody and crabby 5 year old: I’m sorry. I hope this visual explanation helps."

It’s been so long since many of us have experienced literal growing pains,

That we sometimes forget that growth often hurts.

Our toes get pinched when our shoes no longer fit.

And our hearts get pinched when our assumptions, expectations, beliefs, and fears no longer fit.

The Good News is despite our flaws, and our resistance to change, God has gifted us with the capacity for tremendous growth…

And gifted us with capacity to give and receive tremendous love.

At Bruce Fraser’s memorial service on Friday, one of his granddaughters described her grandfather’s love as being “perpetual and unwavering.”

What a wonderful gift it is to feel such a love.

And what a wonderful gift it is to offer it.

But authentic love such as this often involves risks.

Especially when we seek to express it as a community.

When I run my fingers along the stone that marks the spot of our congregation’s first meetinghouse, I feel connected to all those who took a profound risk – out of love – in our past.

Those who built the timber frame of that first meetinghouse and called their first pastor years before they even had a roof on the place.

Those who saw the potential for growth and left 'what came before' behind to build a new sanctuary on the green.

Those who adapted to the changing times and the separation of church and state by hauling the church off the green and setting it down on this spot.

Those of you here – and those who have since moved on - who invested money and time and took on great debt to build classrooms and meeting spaces to accommodate the needs of an overflowing church school, and a future that was not yet known.

Those who chose to stay, or leave and return – after conflicts divided the church and it seemed as if we had forgotten how to love each other as a community of Christ.

And more recently, those of you who wrestled with long held beliefs and discomfort and participated in many years of difficult conversations - and yet still voted “yes” to become an Open and Affirming congregation –

and explicitly welcome those who are explicitly not welcome in most Christian churches.

People like myself - 

who had otherwise given up on finding a faith community that embodied the perpetual and unwavering love of God.

“If we love one another, God lives in us,

and God’s love is perfected in us.

By this we know that we abide in God and God abides in us,

because God’s Spirit has been given to us.”

As a congregation – in this place and time –

we ARE Grounded in God’s Love.

Whatever the future may hold.

Whatever challenges may come.

Whatever changes we embrace or have thrust upon us.

As long as we have love,

We will endure, and grow, and thrive…

Together.

Thanks be to God, and Amen. 

Artist's conception of the pre-1835 Amherst meetinghouse before 

it was moved off the village green and remodeled. Drawing by Philip S. Avery.