180 Years on the Corner of 7th & Sass

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180 Years on the Corner of Seventh and Sass
A Sermon Preached by Dr. Andrew C. Harvey
First United Methodist Church in Erie
Sunday, September 10, 2006

 180 years is a long time.  So is five years. Today we stand at the juxtaposition of two anniversaries, one the beginning of our congregation and church, and the other the Attack on America in 2001.  Both were life changing moments.

 We all can remember where we were and what we were doing when we heard of the Twin Towers disaster, followed by the Pentagon attack and then the crash of the airliner near Somerset. Four times America reeled with the sense of “No, not here, not now, not to us.”  Since then we have been involved in a great conflict, in Afghanistan, in Iraq, on the trains of Madrid, Spain, and in the streets of London. We have seen the culmination of a series of events which you could trace back to the ranting of the Mufti of Jerusalem during World War II, who sided with the Nazis, or to the start of the Moslem Brotherhood in Cairo, Egypt, during that same War and in the vitriolic attack on the west by many Moslem clerics and laity during the days of Nasser and other Arab post-war dictators. Wahabiism is a threat. There are Islamic leaders who wish to re-establish the caliphate that once ruled from Persia to Spain encompassing all north Africa.  They are a minority of a great sister monotheistic religion, but they are a threat. Christians cannot ignore it, cannot downplay it, cannot pretend it does not exist, just as we cannot pretend that there are not right wing hate filled groups that use the name of Jesus Christ to oppose human values and institutions. Every time we board an airplane, every time we enter the Courthouses of Erie, we are reminded that life changed on September 11, 2001.  The question is, can we as people of Christ transform this “brave new world” into the world that Jesus desires it to be, into the Kingdom of God, or will we succumb to the same hate and anger that is directed at us by the Arab street?

 As some of you may know, I follow what is called the International Lectionary in my preaching. The lectionary is a listing of Old and New Testament scripture readings that, in the course of a three year period, ensure that most of the Bible is either read or preached from the pulpits of mostly mainline Protestant, but also Roman Catholic and Orthodox, pulpits. Did you listen carefully to today’s, lectionary appointed, gospel? It is the story of Jesus and the Lebanese woman, the Syro-Phoenician woman.  It is the story of one of the few times Jesus ventured into what we would truly call pagan territory.  He was approached by a woman whose ancestor may have been Helen of Troy, and whose descendants might be Hezbullah fighters. Think about that for a minute. She demanded of Jesus that Jesus drive an unclean spirit from her daughter. Jesus rejected her with harsh words, even for Jesus: “Let the children, that is the Jews, be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”  What? Does it not sound like Jesus called this woman and her child “dogs?”  Here we find typical first century antagonism between Gentile and Jew, not too far removed from the kind of words we use today between Arab and Christian, between Israeli and Hezbullah. The woman retorted to Jesus quick as a wink: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”  And Jesus praised the woman; healed her daughter; and moved on east to the Decapolis where, yes, he healed presumably another Gentile, this time a deaf mute. Did Jesus really call the woman a name, or was he playing with her, with a smile on his face, rehearsing what presumably his overly protective disciples might have said? I like to think that this is another case where Jesus’ humor in the gospels is hidden behind our seriousness. But at any rate, the sphere of the kingdom of God was extended by our Lord. Not just to Jews, but to Gentiles the grace and love of God is to be extended. Not just to “our kind of people,” but to all people.  Yes, this is powerful stuff to hear and read and reflect on as we remember 9/11!

 And it is powerful stuff as we reflect on 180 years of ministry, here on the corner of Seventh and Sass.  Erie has changed a lot since Bishop Matthew Simpson stood in this chancel in 1860 and dedicated this church building.  Some of the original pews are up in the balcony. Did you know that this church was paid for by selling pew space to worshipers, and renting whatever was not sold? Imagine, you couldn’t sit in that accustomed seat of yours, you know, your pew, unless you paid for it.  Hmm.  Not a bad idea!  But no, our Discipline now forbids buying or renting pews.  Did you know that?  Next time someone is sitting in your seat, smile.  You don’t own it! Anyway, remember what happened in 1860? Abraham Lincoln was elected president. Shortly thereafter South Carolina, in early 1861, seceded from the Union. Hate filled the air. North against South. You should read the sermons preached by preachers both Union and Confederate over the next five years.  They are laced with vitriol, calling each section of the nation by rather strong terms, anti-Christ, anti-Christian, traitors, beasts, less than human. Bishop Simpson became the advisor and confidant of President Lincoln.  He had ready access to the White House. What was the result of such spiritual counsel? Could it be possible that Lincoln’s words “With malice toward none and charity toward all,” were possibly the consequence of Methodist Episcopal bishop speaking softly in the ear of a President whose faith was, at least in 1860, ill formed if at all existent? I wonder.  Simpson would preach the final funeral sermon as Lincoln was interred in Springfield, Illinois.  A martyred President who, at war’s end, sought above all reconciliation and healing, while radical politicians throughout the north still cried out for punishment and vengeance.

 For 180 years the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ has been proclaimed from this pulpit, taught in these rooms, shared by the faith and witness of people just like yourself. There is not much difference between David Burton and you sitting in these pews today. David Burton fought along side of Oliver Perry, helped to build his fleet of ships, and founded this church. There is not much difference between his son, J. B., who chaired the building committee that built this church in 1859 and people today serving on church boards, and working to share Jesus with the next generation. That you see was the great witness that those first Methodist Episcopal saints of First Church gave us.  They passed on the torch of faith.  They witnessed to people who were moving into Erie. We had 177 members in 1860 when we built this church.  We had at one time over 1300 members, just a scant twenty years ago.  Today we are around 600, more or less.  Think of the thousands of worship services, prayer meetings, Sunday School classes, dinners, pot-lucks, Ladies’ Aid Society meetings, Women’s Society Meetings, Temperance Meetings, Anti-slavery meetings, Epworth League, MYF and UMF meetings, you name it....all to share Jesus Christ from this corner to Erie and the world.               Now, the world is a scary place.  But was not America, half slave, half free, a scary place in 1826 and in 1859? Yes. But in the midst of fear and turmoil, Jesus helped our congregation heal and reach out to those who were hurting, who were tossed by sin, who were ill, who were demon possessed.  And we did it. We did it in the name of Jesus Christ, and we helped to change Erie and to change the world. It is no different today.

 Jesus is calling us to witness and to serve.  He doesn’t want us to remain isolated in our beautiful building, here on the corner.  He wants us to open its doors to all the people who are in need, here in Erie, and around the world. He wants us to heal and teach and love.  He wants us to proclaim the cross and the resurrection, the transforming power of God through the Holy Spirit to renew and set free. He wants us, in the words of John Wesley and Bishop Francis Asbury, to “spread scriptural holiness throughout the land.” 180 years. The world really hasn’t changed much.  It is still a scary place.  But here we are, by God’s grace, and by God’s grace, here we shall continue to stand, to minister and witness to a world that needs to be healed in the name of Jesus Christ.  Tell me friend, are you willing to do this?  If so, respond with me now, as we stand and confess our faith together using the historic words of the Apostles’ Creed which you may find in your hymn books at page 881, as we together reaffirm our intention to be God’s people in God’s world, to work and pray and serve for the coming of the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.