“Welcome Back”
by Pastor Randy Butler
I once read about a farmer, who found a magical flute. Hoping to charm his hens into laying extra eggs, he played the flute to them all day, but at nightfall there were no more eggs than usual. Later, when asked if he’d had any success, the farmer replied, “I sure did. It wasn’t much of a day for egg-laying, but it was a great day for music.”
It takes that kind of optimism and creative thinking, that kind of outlook to make sense out of our current situation. We last worshipped together, in person, in this space on March 15th. That is fifteen Sundays ago, about three and a half months since COVID-19 brought the world to a screeching halt. It seems like ages ago now, early/mid March, as it began to dawn on us that life would not continue as normal. I remember I had two lunch appointments that week. I was looking forward to meeting more people in the community and our congregation, and both dates had to be cancelled, and almost everything since. Things have changed dramatically.
Yet there have been opportunities as well. I talked to one person last week who said that their home has never looked better because of all the house projects they have completed since having to stay home so much. And though we have been isolated, with the help of technology we have had more contact with people than we might have otherwise. I recently had a great conversation with a good high school friend who I hadn’t talked with in thirty-nine years. That conversation might not have taken place without COVID-19 rearranging the way I started thinking about some of my relationships and friendships. Some have taken up new hobbies and practices. Some have become experts at Jigsaw puzzles. “It wasn’t much of a day for egg laying, but it was a great day for music.” It has been hard, but we have seen some good things come from this pandemic.
In our text from the Old Testament we read from the story of Nehemiah. The book of Nehemiah in spite of a name that sounds like so many of the prophetic books – Jeremiah, Zechariah, Zephaniah, is actually one of the Old Testament historical books. It covers the history of the return of Jewish exiles from Babylon, at that time part of the Persian Empire, to their homeland in Judah near Jerusalem. It is an inspiring story of courage, and return, and restoration and keeping hope alive during exile. And in our text we read about the man Nehemiah, a Jewish man who is a member of the court of the Persian King Artaxerxes, who has heard news about his homeland and the state of affairs there. The Jerusalem temple is in ruins, the walls of the city are crumbling and there is chaos. And hearing this news puts a vision in Nehemiah’s heart to go home and return to Jerusalem to rebuild its walls.
Now his initial response to the news is sadness. In the previous chapter we are told that Nehemiah wept and mourned for days when he heard the news about his homeland. In our text when Nehemiah enters the king’s presence, the king takes note of Nehemiah’s sadness. The king asks Nehemiah what’s wrong and it just comes pouring out – his love for his homeland and desire to return and rebuild.
One of the reactions to our current worldwide situation is for good reason, sadness. Sadness at the loss of so many lives. Sadness at the loss of income for so many business owners and companies. Sadness at so much unemployment. Sadness at the isolation many are experiencing. Sadness that we just can’t pick up where we left off; long scheduled events cancelled. I was struck by sadness as I drove down Main Street on a beautiful summer morning this week, and saw that so many stores remain closed. I saw and felt the hesitation and uncertainty in the air. As the summer visitor and tourist season begins it just doesn’t feel very active. And it is sad. The loss of what we have known grieves and saddens us. If what you may have been feeling is a loss of energy and life – well maybe it is sadness, and it is OK because it is a sad time. And Nehemiah gives full vent to his sadness. He doesn’t hide it, the king can even see it. He wears it on his sleeve.
But he does not let the sadness deter him from acting on his vision. The king grants Nehemiah his desire and Nehemiah begins to make preparations. He sets dates, asks for provisions and for letters of authority to be sent and given to him so that he can go to work on the city wall of Jerusalem. The most spiritual vision still takes planning and working out the details. Preacher Haddon Robinson once said that leadership requires a vision as great as God and as specific as a zip code. Specific details matter.
We have had to consider a lot of details as we return to in-person worship. I am grateful to the Worship Committee and to the Session for doing this hard work. How many bottles of sanitizer should we have? How can we arrange the sanctuary for physical distancing? Where will we put the offering plates? How will we have communion? Should we provide masks? Should we have bulletins? Will we continue to transmit the service online? We have looked at every detail of our interaction on Sunday mornings. And we hope that you feel safe and loved.
We have had to consider state protocols and governors orders just like Nehemiah did. We work within the framework given to us by federal, state and local laws. And though it is hard at times, and we may disagree, we do our best to abide. We are subject to dates and phases of reopening, number of nearby coronavirus cases. My own state of Washington has now required that masks be worn in public. So I will wear a mask in Washington when I go home for a couple of days. I am wearing my mask more and more in Baker City too. The Church of Jesus Christ is accountable only to God ultimately, but we operate within structures and governments given to us by God, and we are accountable to them too. A church is part of a larger community and is called upon to live responsibly within that larger community for the common good of the community.
And so we regather today. But it still feels little less than ideal. We can’t sing, there won’t be any fellowship hall gathering - this morning anyway. Some prefer to stay home for now, which we understand and respect. Besides, we’ve gotten used to this new Sunday morning schedule. I read a recent churchgoers email to their pastor. It said something like this: “Thank you for your concern during the virus. We are doing OK, though. We get up on Sunday mornings, make some coffee, sit on the couch in our jammies with our laptop computers and turn on the worship service. And when we want we can even hit mute. So we are good here.”
The church described in the text we read from the book of Acts seems to be the ideal church. Everybody is devoted and passionate about God in their life. They listen to sermons and teaching, they eat and fellowship together, they pray and take communion regularly. They even share their possessions in common, and everybody admires them for their Christ-like devotion. This seems almost unattainable to us today. So it is a relief to know that when we get to the letters of the Apostle Paul he spends much of his time addressing small-minded arguments, doctrinal disputes, and good old garden variety sin right there in the church in all it’s splendor. Aside from this ideal snapshot given to us by Luke in the book of Acts there never has been from the earliest days a perfect church.
The church is undergoing massive change, especially congregations like Presbyterians. Transformations that were already underway have perhaps been accelerated by the upheavals brought on by the COVID crisis. The church has been changing now for decades. We hope to discuss this more in the weeks ahead when we get to our Mission Study conversations. But we are still the Body of Christ. We are still an outpost of the Kingdom of God at the corner of Fourth and Washington in Baker City. And God is still present in the community through us, incarnate, embodied through us here at this location, and in each of your lives where you go in Baker.
I still believe deeply in the church, imperfect as it is. It was God through the church that saved my life when I was around twenty-one years old. God saved me through the ministry of the church. And the church will always be that fellowship that extends love and grace to people in need in the community and in the world. It will always be a place to call our home.
I once heard about a girl who got lost when she was about seven years old. She ran up and down the streets of the big town where they lived, but she couldn’t find a single landmark. She was frightened. Finally a kind policeman stopped to help her. He put her in the passenger seat of his car, and they drove around until she finally saw her church. She pointed it out to the policeman, and then she told him very clearly, “You can let me out now. This is my church, and I can always find my way home from here.”
For 136 years our church has been a landmark in the community, a place where people have found their way home to God, to one another and to themselves. It is not perfect. It is not always full, and the future is not at all clear. But it is still the church that God loves and uses and makes a home for the world. God always has and it seems always will have a church. It is good to be part of the church today with you. Amen.