Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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On this 116th anniversary of Oak Chapel, marking (as it does) so many years of ministry and service (and sometimes struggle) in this place - on this anniversary, I can't imagine a more appropriate Bible text than the one that's officially designated for this day, which I just read. It's Paul writing to Philippi (from jail, you remember) telling the members of his little church there how they should comport themselves as Christians … not so much, this time, with outsiders, but with each other. What should a Christian fellowship, a church, look like? How should we be with one another?. How should the people of Oak Chapel be (on their church's 116th birthday), or the people of St. Paul's in London, or of St. Peter's in Rome? Believers over the ages have attested to the wonderful support of other believers, bearing one another's burdens, rejoicing together even in the worst of times. What makes that kind of fellowship possible? How is it different from, deeper than the other friendships we know at work, or on the golf course, or at school? What is the communion of the saints, or the tie that binds? How does it manifest itself? That's what Paul's writing about.

(Remember, Paul writes only twenty or twenty-five years after the crucifixion of Jesus. There is no New Testament for Paul to read, no Christian theologians for him to consult. Paul is writing the New Testament - from a jail cell - and he is the first great Christian theologian. God gave us an enormously courageous man, and a great brain, when he gave us St. Paul.)
We're not sure what occasioned Paul's letter. Between the lines we think we see hints that the Philippian church might have been experiencing, among his members, some divisions: petty jealousies, minor disagreements, private ambitions, even a little social climbing. (Thank God churches today never experience such things!) Maybe each person's or each group's position in these disputes had merit, but compared to the larger mission of the Philippian church, such disputes were insignificant and needed to be laid aside. In their petty struggles, the Christians at Philippi, it seems, had lost track of what was truly important. In other words, as Dan Watkins likes to say, they were "majoring in the minors."

And Paul was horrified. He realized that his little church at Philippi was Christ's foothold in Europe. To establish it (called by a dream) Paul had crossed the Bosphorus, left behind the near East (where the Christian Church had his roots) and entered a whole new realm. By the time Paul writes, the Eastern Church (the orthodox church, the Greek- speaking church, the church whose center would eventually become Constantinople) was already well-established. But it was in Philippi that the Western Church (the Latin Church, the church whose center would eventually become Rome, our ancestor church) would begin its life. Could it be that this important beachhead in Europe might be lost because certain Christians at Philippi couldn't settle minor disputes among themselves? Paul begs: If you can find anything good in Jesus (and I know you can), do me a favor and make me happy; be of the same mind, have the same love, be in full accord…." For heaven's sake, get along. There's too much at stake.

Instead of getting involved in their squabbles, Paul threw down a supreme challenge to the Christians at Philippi. Every Church and every Christian should have it written someplace on the wall: "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus…" "…who, though he was equal to God, did not count that equality as a prize to be grasped, but emptied himself, instead, taking the form of a slave….and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross." If Christ was equal to ("of the same substance as") God, it is truly remarkable (actually astounding) to see the kind of life he lived. He did not resent a human's inferior place. No ego, no self-importance, never full of himself. He went to the people instead of (as the great rabbis) making the people come to him. Somebody said, when Jesus traveled, he didn't take any baggage with him; instead he picked up other people's baggage and carried it for a while. He washed the disciples feet. He said, "foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man hath nowhere to lay his head." Not God-like in any usual sense. And he said that we, his disciples, should live like that with each other. "In the world men hold ranks, and lord it over one another, but it shall not be so with you." Be servants to each other. I will set the example. Love one another even as I have loved you."

Hey, you Christians at Philippi, at Oak Chapel, in relation to one another, let this mind (this inward disposition) be in you which was also in Christ Jesus. Our duty is not to see through one another, but to see one another through.

We cannot carry the Church's love outside until we have it inside, in our own fellowship. And when we have it in here, nothing will be able to stop from taking it out there. A lot of well-intentioned effort is wasted, today, urging churches to look outside their walls and carry the love of Christ to a waiting, needy world….when, in fact, many churches don't have that love to offer. Because, instead of emptying themselves of ego and self-importance, they are arguing about doctrinal issues that have long since lost their significance. They are arguing about what color to paint the walls, or what vegetables to serve at the next supper. They are majoring in the minors. I'm not saying they aren't Christians. They simply don't understand that being a Christian means to empty oneself of pride and ambition, and, as the result, at the very least, to get along with each other.. Hudson Taylor, talking about testing the validity of people's conversions, recommended what he called the cat and dog test: "If your father and mother, your sister and brother, the very cat and dog in the house are not happier for your being a Christian, it is a question whether you really are." There is a difference in the way we live. And that difference is in emptying ourselves. Not grasping status and position, but giving all that up and becoming a slave. Believe me, even the cat and the dog will be happier.
B.B. King, the blues guitarist, sings a song called, "When Love Came to Town."

The verses of the song, one after another, recount all his shortcomings, all the harm he has done, all the hurt he has caused others, but the chorus keeps relentlessly coming back: "When love comes to town I want to jump that train. When love comes to town I want to catch that flame. Maybe I was wrong to ever let you down, but I did what I did before love came to town." There is a difference in the way we live after we have seen the self-emptying love of Jesus, who though he was equal to God thought it not robbery to be made equal to man. That new way of life is dramatically different from the way we lived "before love came to town."

A few years ago a movie called, The Dead Poets Society, with Robin Williams, caught the public's imagination. It lifted up an old Roman saying, Carpe Deim, "Seize the day." Recently, Leonard Sweet, Dean of Drew Seminary, wrote a book he called, Carpe Manana, Seize Tomorrow. That's what Oak Chapel, in its 117th year, needs to do. That's what the church universal needs to do. Here, in this place, we took a big step towards seizing tomorrow when we built this building. Now we have the space we need to carry out new ministries, reaching out to the community through our school, and through scouting, and community organizations, and exercise classes, and Bible studies, and food pantries, and so on and on. But, as Annie sings, tomorrow is "only a day away." It's always almost upon us. We can't sit back and rest. To seize tomorrow, Oak Chapel's people need to stay on good terms with each other -- and I commend you for that, we are every day overcoming many possible divisions, by emptying ourselves and not letting these divisors become issues among us. There is too much at stake for that. To seize tomorrow, we need to get this building paid for, and go on and build the rest of our Master Plan. We need to reach out to new populations in our area, who speak different languages and worship in different ways. We need to do a better job reaching children and youth. If their parents won't bring them to church, maybe we'll have to go get them. We need to work with the business community, and with the political leaders, and with the police, to keep our neighborhood free from the kinds of influences that have caused other communities to deteriorate. The church can and should be a leader in all these things. Let our neighbors say of us, "They have in them the mind which was also in Christ Jesus. They're not grasping equality with God, or even pretending to such a conceit. We see them laying themselves aside, voluntarily becoming slaves, serving each other, and serving their community, in humility. Let Oak Chapel be a sanctuary, where troubled and needy people can come and "find rest unto their souls." Let us truly be "a city set on a hill that can't be hid."