“The Servant of All”                                                                                     Vance L. Toivonen

READING                   Isaiah 49:1-7

Listen to me, O coastlands, pay attention, you peoples from far away! The LORD called me before I was born, while I was in my mother's womb he named me. He made my mouth like a sharp sword, in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me away. And he said to me, "You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified." But I said, "I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my cause is with the LORD, and my reward with my God." And now the LORD says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him, and that Israel might be gathered to him, for I am honored in the sight of the LORD, and my God has become my strength he says, "It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth." Thus says the LORD, the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One, to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations, the slave of rulers, "Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the LORD, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you."

READING                   Myron Rogers, The Paradox and Promise of Community

Clarity of purpose at the core of the community changes the entire nature of relationships within that community. These communities do not ask people to forfeit their freedom as a condition of belonging. They avoid the magnetic pull of proscribing behaviors and beliefs, they avoid becoming doctrinaire and dictatorial, they stay focused on what they are trying to create together, and diversity flourishes within them. Belonging together is defined by a shared sense of purpose, not shared beliefs about specific behaviors. The call of purpose attracts individuals but does not require them to shed their uniqueness. Staying centered on what the work is together, rather than on single identities, transforms the tension of belonging and individuality into energetic and resilient communities.

SERMON

Why are we here? My son asked me that question not too long ago. It kind of took me by surprise, although it should not surprise me, I suppose, that at the age of 21 he should begin to wax philosophical. In response to such a question we might be tempted to spew forth platitudes of one sort or another; we are here to love our neighbors, or to be productive in society, or to create a better world. Or we might echo the hue and cry of duty to some cause, or to the nation, or to whatever other system requires our allegiance.

Since September 11^th, 2001 we have heard a lot about patriotism in this country, calling us to be loyal and dedicated citizens. But the word “patriotism” is still largely open to debate, in spite of the fact that there are leaders who may wish to seal the definition for us. This morning in our Old Testament class with Amy-Jill Levine we heard about the two creation stories in Genesis. In one story God says to the humans, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth." In the other story God says simply “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it”  Either of these God statements could be extrapolated into a philosophical response to that question about why we are here. In one case we are here to subdue creation and have dominion over the earth. Historically there are more than enough human beings who have taken this tack when it comes to their philosophy of existence. In the other case the human being is seen as a care-taker, a tender of the garden of this world.

Daniel Quinn makes this distinction in his book Ishmael as being the difference between what he calls Takers and Leavers. The Leavers represent chapter one in human history, according to Quinn, and the Takers chapter two, the chapter we are currently acting out. To refer back to those two Genesis stories, the Takers would be indicative of story one, subduing and having dominion over the planet. To quote Quinn, the world for the Takers “is a human life-support system, a machine designed to produce and sustain human life.” (Daniel Quinn, Ishmael).

In contrast to the Takers, the Leavers work together with creation, tending and keeping, understanding that there is indeed a symbiosis between humankind and the rest of creation. Most all of the conflicts and tensions in this world boil down to these differing approaches to the question of existence. Ancient Israel also lived in this tension. In the first reading today Isaiah speaks to Israel, reminding her that she is not about vanity and self-service, that she is not an island among the nations of the world. She is, rather, the servant of the world, a light to the nations. To understand herself in this way definitely changes her foreign policy from protectionism to pluralism, from internal tribalism, to a broader dialogue with the world. I am not a foreign policy person, but it would be interesting to hear the experts talk about how the Israel of today fits Isaiah’s model, namely to be the servant of all.

Why are we here? How we answer that question has a lot to do with how we live together in community, how we relate to each other, how we relate to the stranger and the foreigner. We gather here together at Hope Church, a group of individuals who might answer that question of existence in a variety of ways. All of our responses would likely make a contribution to the dialogue we share together. But there comes a moment in our life together when we realize that we cannot continue to exist upon the vapors of individuality that fuels our community. We must seek some connective tissue, some “clarity of purpose” to use the words of Myron Rogers. We must know as a collective, as a “we” the answer to the question, why are we here at Hope Church?

The best tool we have for that right now is the statement of purpose that is printed in the bulletin each week, and that hangs on the wall at the door to the entrance of this building. I do not think we have improved upon it, and I certainly wonder whether we would need to. The work that bore this fruit was done well. But if we do need to make revisions, the conversation begins with what is here. Is this a true and accurate reflection of our common sense of purpose here at Hope Church? When you read these words (and I encourage you to do so) do you find your inner reality to be in concert with what you are reading?

When we are scattered or conflicted, our statement of purpose is there to remind us of our center, of our reason for being. Whenever someone asks, “Why are we here…why Hope Church?” we can simply point to this document and inform them of our sense of purpose. Better yet, we can grow to internalize this statement of purpose in order that we do not falter or stumble when defining ourselves to the world. Furthermore, we need to take the whole statement. We cannot pick and choose based upon our individual preferences. This is not a smorgasbord that is intended to cater to the whims of the individual. This is a definition of an entire community. We must grow to see this statement as a whole, just as we must grow to see ourselves as a whole.

If we cannot do this, then perhaps we need to revisit our statement of purpose. Maybe we need something more compact. Myron Rogers tells the story of a school, a junior high that settled on three simple rules, “Take care of yourself. Take care of each other. Take care of this place.” After an evacuation in a rainstorm the principle reported returning to find eight hundred pairs of shoes in the lobby. The students had collectively made a decision about how to “take care of this place.”

I would hope that at the very least we would adopt a similar philosophy here at Hope Church. I think those junior high rules are terrific foundational pieces for any community, including ours.. If all of us could grow in our consciousness that we are not merely a collection of individuals, but rather that we are one as a community, we would strengthen the modeling of our purpose for being here. To the extent that we live out our statement of purpose in this community, and in the world, to that extent will we be a light to the community.

It is the internalization of this common sense of purpose that will ultimately energize us. When we have a passion for the call, a passion for worshipping God, a passion for tolerance and open-mindedness, a passion for the teachings of Jesus Christ, and other great teachers of wisdom, a passion for the interconnectedness of all of life, and a passion for loving and caring for one another, then the community around us knows who we are, this community called Hope Church.

Passion is the key. Margaret Wheatley turned the writing of Roger Rosenblatt into the following poem titled, The Best in Art and Life:

The best in art and life

comes from a center

something urgent and powerful

an ideal or emotion

that insists

            on its being.

From that insistence

a shape emerges

            and creates its structure out of passion.

If you begin with a structure,

you have to make up the passion,

            and that’s very hard to do.

To the extent that we have a passion for our purpose, a passion for our reason for being, to that extent we will experience true joy and peace as a community. Service is a part of that, and so we can answer the call of Isaiah to be the servant of all. But it is only a part of the greater sense of purpose that we have. As Rosenblatt suggests, mere structure will not get us there. Passion will.

So, what did I say to my son when he asked me that question. I wasn’t prepared for it, so I did the best I could at the time. I said I wasn’t sure if there is ultimately a why. It’s about being human, as fully human as possible. The why is born of the moment we are in. As I reflect now upon my response to him, I am tempted to elaborate as I close this sermon…Each moment presents itself to us as opportunity, and, as we grow older, more and more as gift, perhaps. So the choice I make in each new moment gives birth to the why, teaches me the why. To the extent that I am willing to be present in that moment in a way that enhances both myself and the world in which I live, to the extent that the gift becomes a gift, the why is born to give light and hope and joy to the world. On this Sunday, and in this moment, that’s the best I can do. Together? Who knows what might be possible?