Grace and peace from God our Creator, hope in our Redeemer Jesus the Christ, and the promised gifts of the Holy Spirit are with you, always.
Welcome! Welcome back! Welcome home!
It is such a joy to see you here, whether this is your first time in this chapel, or you’ve been here several times, or you’ve been here every week for years. Every Welcome Week is such a mystery, wondering about who will find their way into our little yellow house this time. Whatever brings you here—if you’re Lutheran, or Episcopalian, or neither;
if you’re a new undergrad or a new grad student; if you’re living at the Belfry this year, our first group of residents in a long time; if you were studying abroad last year or took a leave of absence; if you met Emily at the Resource Fair on Monday; if you’re a member of our LEVN program, the Lutheran Episcopal Volunteer Network; if you saw our signs in the window, and our (unfortunately, recently stolen) pride flag and were curious about who meets inside here; if your roommate dragged you here—you are welcome here.
Here at The Belfry, in our Lutheran and Episcopal traditions, we use what is called the Revised Common Lectionary to determine which Bible passages we read each week. If you’re totally familiar with this practice, thanks in advance for surviving this review session; if you’re confused about like half of those words, hopefully it will make sense, soon. The lectionary is a schedule of which readings happen when. This concept dates back several thousand years, and first began in our lineage with the reading of specific stories on important Jewish festivals, like the Passover.
Today, many Christian Churches around the world use the same schedule—that’s why we call it a common lectionary—and celebrate our holidays on the same days. Orthodox Christians, Catholics, Copts, and others have different schedules, and our holidays do not always coincide.
For example, Catholic and Protestant Christians celebrate Christmas on December 25th, but some Orthodox Christians celebrate Christmas on January 7, as their calendar is calculated slightly differently. But in the majority of mainline Protestant churches, like Lutherans, Episcopalians, Methodists, and Presbyterians, you can assume that the assigned stories for each Sunday are going to be the same. Since we meet here on Wednesdays, we transfer the previous Sunday to Wednesday; if you were already in church this week, these may sound familiar.
Why am I telling you all of this? In part because some people wonder why we have the texts we have, and never ask; and, because if it were up to me to choose any readings from the entire First and Second Testament to kick off a new year of life together at The Belfry, these are probably not the ones I would have chosen. I probably would have skipped over this very short chunk of Jeremiah that manages to talk about evil and slaughter and destruction and retribution in just four short sentences. I probably would not have chosen this James text, either, because, again, accusations of murder and wrongdoing. Welcome to the Belfry!
However, this is part of the wisdom of the lectionary. It covers a broad range of topics on a three-year cycle, and introduces us to all sorts of characters and scenarios that we might skip over in our own reading or our own choosing. It forces us to confront some of our less-than-pretty stories, though (thankfully) it does skip some of the goriest stuff. The lectionary challenges me as a preacher and you as a hearer to wonder about the lessons in these lessons. To wonder about what was going on in those communities, all those thousands of years ago, and what might be going on around us today. These stories speak ancient truths into our modern life.
For example, sometimes, even when we think we have the best of intentions, we can end up totally missing the point of what’s going on around us. Jesus’ disciples actually have a habit of this, especially in the Gospel According to Mark. In the story we read for tonight, they are missing the point of what Jesus was trying to tell them because they were arguing over which of them is the greatest.
It is probable that these first followers of Jesus were good people; they were learning from Jesus about who they were and what that meant for how they should treat each other. And yet, they are still human beings, who want to be affirmed for what they’re good at and celebrated when they succeed. I imagine Jesus shaking his head and kindly sighing as he says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35).
Jesus says a lot of things, and Jesus says a lot of things that don’t seem to make sense at first. How is it that whoever wants to be first must be last? Jesus understands his friends, and understands that they will be confused by this.
They live in a society—like we do—where the first are first and the last are last. People who have the most money have the most power, and people who have the least money have the least power. People who have power rarely share that power, concentrating it at the top.
Our society rewards those who clamber to the top; we pay the CEOs of companies and the coaches of sports teams and the stars of movies more than we pay our teachers and our social workers and our farmers. This is, of course, exactly why the disciples are arguing over who is the greatest. They want to be seen as valuable and important. What Jesus is telling them is that, to be truly great, they need to change their perspective. They are all already valuable and important, just by a completely different metric. And that’s an important lesson for us, too. We can be trucking right along achieving the things we think we need to achieve to be great, and not realize that we are not truly being ourselves
The start of a new school year can be a great time to set intentions for yourself, to start fresh, to declare—even in very small ways—that you are going to be new. Maybe this year you want to hook that water bottle to your backpack so you can stay hydrated on the go. Maybe this year you want to get a planner that works for you better than the one you used before, so you can lay out all of your priorities and deadlines in one, simple place. Maybe this year you want to focus on self-care and ensuring that your mental health is manageable. Maybe this year you want to join a new club and connect with some people outside of your roommates and outside of your major. Maybe this year you want to practice some different ways of praying, so you can find a way connect to God that feels comfortable. Maybe this year you want to say “yes” to more people and things that build you up, and say “no” to more people and things that put you down. Maybe this year you want to make that Dean’s Honors List one time. Maybe this year you want to worry less about making the Dean’s Honors List. This is your life, this is your year. You can receive wisdom from students further along in their time at UC Davis than you are, or from your parents, or from mentors in other aspects of your life. And, you can decide for yourself what the best choices are for you. Who do you want to be?
Unlike the disciples, jockeying for position, there is no need for selfish ambition in God’s family—there is no shortage of the things we need; there is enough. You are enough just as you are, just as you came here tonight. Being here together week after week we will practice this abundance and know that none of us are greater or lesser than the other. I am not greater because I wear this stole and stand up here. You are not lesser because you’re not sure that you believe me. We’re here together to figure it out.
Here at the Belfry, you’ll find that we ask a lot of questions. We often answer our questions with more questions. I rarely give anyone a hard and fast answer to any question. There is almost always more than one way to look at it, and more than one direction to run with it.
I will always tell you the few capital T truths that I know: the God who created you loves you, and made you in their image, to be out in their beloved world to love one another. There is nothing you do or fail to do that changes the love God has for you. You cannot, like those silly disciples, elbow your way to first position in the family of God. You also cannot lose the love of God.
If you passed by the Belfry on your way to class this morning, you may have seen that Emily and Ray and I were out there with a giant pot of coffee, and a sign that said “Free Coffee and Free Grace.” We’ll be back out there tomorrow morning, between like 8:45 and 9:45, if you’ve got class at 9 or 9:30 or 10 and want to grab a cup on your way in, come on by. We did this not just because we know that college students often survive on coffee, but also that y’all often survive on free things. Just as that coffee was yours through no action or inaction of your own, the grace is free, too. The grace of God is free. It’s yours. Now that you know that, you can bike safely to class without worrying about how God feels about you. What a relief.
And so I take a teensy bit of issue with the closing line of the James text: “draw near to God and God will draw near to you” (James 3:8a). It is good to draw near to God, yes, of course. But do not for a moment be concerned that God is petty, waiting on the sidelines for you to pray in order to begin to care for you. God is always near to you. The God who is awesome and humongous and all-encompassing is also the God who became human in Jesus, whose very life is proof that God is with us.
Perhaps draw near to God so that you can tell that God has drawn near to you. There will be times when we feel that God is far away. When the way we have felt the presence of God just doesn’t seem to be working. In these times, we have to try a new thing. If our quiet, private prayer is not connecting, perhaps we should try seeking God in community. If we’re feeling lost in the crowd, perhaps we should try seeking God in that quiet place.
This year at The Belfry, we’ll be doing a lot of old things and we’ll be trying a lot of new things. The scripture we read, the prayers we say, the meal we eat—these are ancient rituals, connecting us to Christians throughout time. They’re things we’ve been doing at The Belfry for a long time, too. But we’re also doing new things. We’re going to join forces with CA House for a Midday Mindfulness practice on Thursdays on the quad. We’re going to meet at Three Mile Brewing to talk about theology with folks from the Lutheran Church of the Incarnation here in Davis. We’re going to watch all eight Harry Potter movies, approximately one a month, all year. We’re going to do things we haven’t even dreamed up yet, because you all just got here!
We hope that by being here, you will learn more about yourself, and about each other, and about God, together. We’re overjoyed and deeply blessed to be in this ministry with you, and we’re glad you’re here. Whoever you are, wherever you’re from, wherever you’re going, you’re part of the community at the Belfry. Thanks be to God!