Looking Ahead
As I was preparing for this week’s service and saw Ecclesiastes 3 on the lectionary (it was actually on the lectionary for New Years Day, but I don’t mind taking liberties by a couple of days), it occurred to me that I reference this scripture a lot, but I’ve never preached on it directly. I’ve kept coming back to it in my own mind, and in conversations with others, as American Christianity has found itself divided this year.
Congregations that continue to meet remotely, or gather in small groups with masks and distancing, like ours, are accused by some of “living in fear” or “not having faith.” To some Christians, true faith can only be expressed by disregarding all sense and safety and trusting God to stave off the inevitable. To me, it’s a little bit like putting a loaded gun to your head and pulling the trigger – you can either trust God to stop the bullet, or you can trust that God’s given you enough intelligence not to do such a fool thing in the first place.
But getting back to Ecclesiastes – with our common sense and our precautions, we are living into the Biblical time that Solomon talks about, that there is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing. There’s nothing unbiblical or un-Christian about recognizing that now is a very literal time to refrain from embracing.
We hope, with God’s guidance, with the intelligence he has blessed humanity with, with the work of scientists and our health care systems – we hope that in the coming months this time to refrain from embracing will begin to come to an end.
So the question then is, “what comes next?”
Certainly, some things will go back to the way we remember them before 2020. We’ll go back out to restaurants without worrying about capacity limits or remembering our masks. We’ll fill stadiums for concerts and ballgames again. We’ll send our kids off to school in crowded classrooms without a second thought.
But we also know some things will be different. We may see many white-collar people continue working from home, not as an accommodation to the pandemic, but as a way of life – more convenient for the worker, more cost-efficient for the employer. School districts that can provide computers and internet access to all of their students may have said “farewell” to the much-beloved snow day. And churches have changed how they do things. In March and April we all got a crash course in how to put our services online. Some of us managed to get the basics down; others are streaming services with all kinds of bells and whistles. But at the very least, churches will probably be expected to maintain some kind of online worship presence going into the future.
This is good for accessibility – for reaching people who may be shut in, unable to travel to church, or may have simply moved away and want to continue in fellowship with their home church. But all of our virtual activities are no replacement for real, in-person interaction. The kinds of face-to-face events that we all crave. As much as we’re still in this season of refraining from embracing, we long for the time to embrace again. We want the handshakes, the hugs… there are new babies – grandchildren, nieces, and nephews that we want to hold, not just see through a window or a computer screen. So I see technology aiding us as we move forward, but not replacing the human connections we all need.
Other things will be different too, not just how we use technology, but how we connect with people. I know there’s a real hunger in this congregation to engage with our local community more. That we want to be a resource that people inside our congregation and outside of it can depend on. That we want to be more missional; more charitable; and more neighborly. That we want to be a place where things happen. Kingdom work like food and clothing drives; fellowship work like dinners and community projects; and, of course, worship – where people across generations can come to pray, to engage in a time of blessing, to hear God’s Word, to restore the soul and have a moment of peaceful sanctuary in a busy and hectic world.
In many ways, those thoughts are still aspirational. We have plans, and ideas for plans, but like so much else, our plans are at the mercy of the pandemic. But still, we move forward. Just this past week we sent in an application to the State to start operating under the name, “Faith Community Church of Hazlet.” We had to add the “of Hazlet” in there because there are already two Faith Community Churches in New Jersey; one way up north in Wyckoff, the other down in Atlantic City… both far enough away that we shouldn’t be confused with either one.
But we start with those aspirations. Who we want to be. What we want to be known for. How do we serve God? And we take steps towards making each of those aspirations a reality.
Because I think we all know that to get together as we do and worship as we do is all well and good. Indeed, worship is the primary reason we exist. Without worship there is no church. But without a community presence… without a reason for others to take note of who we are or what we’re doing… without giving people a reason to take a chance on us and buy into what we’re offering… we’re likely to continue dwindling. Which I don’t think anyone in this building wants.
So as we look to the year ahead… and likely several years ahead, we know we need to continue to make ourselves accessible, through technology and how we interact with the community. We know we need to make a mark in the town and give people a reason to think about us. We know that when the masks come off and the handshakes resume, we need more faces to come through our doors and more hands to shake.
And we also need money. We have a wonderful worship space, and that costs money to maintain. This building brings me to tears – in a good way – every holiday season when it’s all decorated for Christmas with the tree and the greens and the red bows… it almost makes me feel like I’m in a little village chapel in the Black Forest or somewhere like that. There’s a fairy tale feel to this place. And, I know, just about every church decorates and looks beautiful around the holidays… but they don’t all evoke that same intimacy and love for me that this place does. I love this church, this building, this little corner of God’s kingdom that we call home.
Building maintenance costs money. Mission costs money. Fellowship costs money. Keeping a pastor gainfully employed costs money. And I say this, not to hit you up for cash, though I’m certain the offering plate wouldn’t crumble under the weight of a few more dollars, but to say that stewardship will be a big part of what’s next for us. Stewardship, not just in the form of our pledges and the checks we write each week, but in the form of how the church pays for itself. And, of course, the big movement on that front is the work that so many people have been doing to get our property approved for the daycare use variance.
There are still a lot of details to be hammered out, and still some hoops to jump through, but we hope that in the coming months we’ll have contracts agreed to and building upgrades done and a tenant daycare up and running, which, we hope, will go a long way towards stabilizing our finances in the years to come.
I realize I’ve strayed off the path a bit from the words of Ecclesiastes. I hope you’ll forgive me for that. But I felt it important, this Sunday, this first Sunday of the New Year, to take a little bit of time to look ahead, and talk about what our hopes and goals for the next year are.
Because we’ve been in the time to weep; the time to mourn; the time to scatter stones; to tear; to refrain from embracing. And we know we have some months left in that time. But we also yearn to leave that behind us. And to return to the time to laugh and dance, but also to mend, to build, and to embrace. Most especially to embrace.
So we look ahead. We can’t predict the future, but we can prepare for it. We don’t know which of our plans will work out, but we still do the best we can. Because we want to continue to be a church in this community that people can look to for years and years to come. That people look to for service, for comfort, for blessing, and for friendship.
And I believe that if we worship well… if we do mission well… if we are responsible stewards of God’s church… and we welcome people in the love of Jesus, then I pray and I trust that God will bless us for those many years to come. Amen.
Let us pray.
Holy Lord, we thank you for staying with us in trying times; for seeing us through a difficult year; and for giving us hope for the future. Lord, we know that what lies ahead is known only to you. We pray that you will be merciful with your people, that you will bless us to be a blessing to others, and that our efforts in your name will find fertile soil and bear fruit. We pray in trust and gratitude to you through the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
As I was preparing for this week’s service and saw Ecclesiastes 3 on the lectionary (it was actually on the lectionary for New Years Day, but I don’t mind taking liberties by a couple of days), it occurred to me that I reference this scripture a lot, but I’ve never preached on it directly. I’ve kept coming back to it in my own mind, and in conversations with others, as American Christianity has found itself divided this year.
Congregations that continue to meet remotely, or gather in small groups with masks and distancing, like ours, are accused by some of “living in fear” or “not having faith.” To some Christians, true faith can only be expressed by disregarding all sense and safety and trusting God to stave off the inevitable. To me, it’s a little bit like putting a loaded gun to your head and pulling the trigger – you can either trust God to stop the bullet, or you can trust that God’s given you enough intelligence not to do such a fool thing in the first place.
But getting back to Ecclesiastes – with our common sense and our precautions, we are living into the Biblical time that Solomon talks about, that there is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing. There’s nothing unbiblical or un-Christian about recognizing that now is a very literal time to refrain from embracing.
We hope, with God’s guidance, with the intelligence he has blessed humanity with, with the work of scientists and our health care systems – we hope that in the coming months this time to refrain from embracing will begin to come to an end.
So the question then is, “what comes next?”
Certainly, some things will go back to the way we remember them before 2020. We’ll go back out to restaurants without worrying about capacity limits or remembering our masks. We’ll fill stadiums for concerts and ballgames again. We’ll send our kids off to school in crowded classrooms without a second thought.
But we also know some things will be different. We may see many white-collar people continue working from home, not as an accommodation to the pandemic, but as a way of life – more convenient for the worker, more cost-efficient for the employer. School districts that can provide computers and internet access to all of their students may have said “farewell” to the much-beloved snow day. And churches have changed how they do things. In March and April we all got a crash course in how to put our services online. Some of us managed to get the basics down; others are streaming services with all kinds of bells and whistles. But at the very least, churches will probably be expected to maintain some kind of online worship presence going into the future.
This is good for accessibility – for reaching people who may be shut in, unable to travel to church, or may have simply moved away and want to continue in fellowship with their home church. But all of our virtual activities are no replacement for real, in-person interaction. The kinds of face-to-face events that we all crave. As much as we’re still in this season of refraining from embracing, we long for the time to embrace again. We want the handshakes, the hugs… there are new babies – grandchildren, nieces, and nephews that we want to hold, not just see through a window or a computer screen. So I see technology aiding us as we move forward, but not replacing the human connections we all need.
Other things will be different too, not just how we use technology, but how we connect with people. I know there’s a real hunger in this congregation to engage with our local community more. That we want to be a resource that people inside our congregation and outside of it can depend on. That we want to be more missional; more charitable; and more neighborly. That we want to be a place where things happen. Kingdom work like food and clothing drives; fellowship work like dinners and community projects; and, of course, worship – where people across generations can come to pray, to engage in a time of blessing, to hear God’s Word, to restore the soul and have a moment of peaceful sanctuary in a busy and hectic world.
In many ways, those thoughts are still aspirational. We have plans, and ideas for plans, but like so much else, our plans are at the mercy of the pandemic. But still, we move forward. Just this past week we sent in an application to the State to start operating under the name, “Faith Community Church of Hazlet.” We had to add the “of Hazlet” in there because there are already two Faith Community Churches in New Jersey; one way up north in Wyckoff, the other down in Atlantic City… both far enough away that we shouldn’t be confused with either one.
But we start with those aspirations. Who we want to be. What we want to be known for. How do we serve God? And we take steps towards making each of those aspirations a reality.
Because I think we all know that to get together as we do and worship as we do is all well and good. Indeed, worship is the primary reason we exist. Without worship there is no church. But without a community presence… without a reason for others to take note of who we are or what we’re doing… without giving people a reason to take a chance on us and buy into what we’re offering… we’re likely to continue dwindling. Which I don’t think anyone in this building wants.
So as we look to the year ahead… and likely several years ahead, we know we need to continue to make ourselves accessible, through technology and how we interact with the community. We know we need to make a mark in the town and give people a reason to think about us. We know that when the masks come off and the handshakes resume, we need more faces to come through our doors and more hands to shake.
And we also need money. We have a wonderful worship space, and that costs money to maintain. This building brings me to tears – in a good way – every holiday season when it’s all decorated for Christmas with the tree and the greens and the red bows… it almost makes me feel like I’m in a little village chapel in the Black Forest or somewhere like that. There’s a fairy tale feel to this place. And, I know, just about every church decorates and looks beautiful around the holidays… but they don’t all evoke that same intimacy and love for me that this place does. I love this church, this building, this little corner of God’s kingdom that we call home.
Building maintenance costs money. Mission costs money. Fellowship costs money. Keeping a pastor gainfully employed costs money. And I say this, not to hit you up for cash, though I’m certain the offering plate wouldn’t crumble under the weight of a few more dollars, but to say that stewardship will be a big part of what’s next for us. Stewardship, not just in the form of our pledges and the checks we write each week, but in the form of how the church pays for itself. And, of course, the big movement on that front is the work that so many people have been doing to get our property approved for the daycare use variance.
There are still a lot of details to be hammered out, and still some hoops to jump through, but we hope that in the coming months we’ll have contracts agreed to and building upgrades done and a tenant daycare up and running, which, we hope, will go a long way towards stabilizing our finances in the years to come.
I realize I’ve strayed off the path a bit from the words of Ecclesiastes. I hope you’ll forgive me for that. But I felt it important, this Sunday, this first Sunday of the New Year, to take a little bit of time to look ahead, and talk about what our hopes and goals for the next year are.
Because we’ve been in the time to weep; the time to mourn; the time to scatter stones; to tear; to refrain from embracing. And we know we have some months left in that time. But we also yearn to leave that behind us. And to return to the time to laugh and dance, but also to mend, to build, and to embrace. Most especially to embrace.
So we look ahead. We can’t predict the future, but we can prepare for it. We don’t know which of our plans will work out, but we still do the best we can. Because we want to continue to be a church in this community that people can look to for years and years to come. That people look to for service, for comfort, for blessing, and for friendship.
And I believe that if we worship well… if we do mission well… if we are responsible stewards of God’s church… and we welcome people in the love of Jesus, then I pray and I trust that God will bless us for those many years to come. Amen.
Let us pray.
Holy Lord, we thank you for staying with us in trying times; for seeing us through a difficult year; and for giving us hope for the future. Lord, we know that what lies ahead is known only to you. We pray that you will be merciful with your people, that you will bless us to be a blessing to others, and that our efforts in your name will find fertile soil and bear fruit. We pray in trust and gratitude to you through the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.