Exodus 1:8-2:10
Romans 12:1-8
Matthew 16:13-20
“And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”
I am struck by two things, the first of which is the image of Peter being the rock on which the church of Jesus is built. The second is that Jesus invokes the notion of Hades or Hell in this passage. Not even Hades will be able to overcome a solidly built, a rock-solid foundation for a church. Anytime you use the name of Hell in a pronouncement, you are getting pretty serious and dramatic. I heard one of the Presidential candidates use the term of Hell in a campaign speech. It had drama and I think brought up the amount of seriousness that he was aiming for.
I grew up on Albert Street on the East Side of town. It’s really the first of the houses that I ever remember, and as a little kid I vividly remember the basement. This is when a basement was really a basement. The basement was dark and cold, dusty and our house, in the 1950’s had a coal furnace. Is there anything more exciting for a little boy…it was an adventure to go down there! The coalman would come, open the metal door, put a chute down and shovel it in and it would rumble into the basement coal bin. I imagine lots of coal dust was a part of the basement. I know it was, but I don’t remember thinking it too unusual to have black coal dust in a few things down there…after all…it was the basement.
But I was a pretty astute little kid and I remember the color and texture of those cement, slab walls that formed the foundation of the house. I remember clearly that there were no cracks. I never remember Dad having any concerns about leaks in the basement or a wall collapsing. I suppose the house was 30 years old in 1955. I just drove past it a couple weeks ago when I was in town. It still stands. If I could, I would like to find that stonemason or cement contractor or whomever and tell him thanks for making my childhood home solid and free from the worries of collapse or financial ruin. A foundation is a very unglamorous part of a building. Very unglamorous. But, any homeowner will tell you that absolutely nothing else can exist unless the foundation is anchored.
So it is with Peter. This particular passage encompasses a lot of theology. This passage is a center of debate. In Catholicism, the rock is Peter. In Eastern Orthodoxy and Protestantism, the rock is the confession of the Christ. I believe in the Roman Catholic Church, the Pope is understood to be in the direct succession of the great Apostle Peter himself. Granted, the line of Papal succession has taken a lot of twists and turns including an era when there was several Popes at one time all duke-ing it out for legitimacy. But, for all of you sitting here today who grew up in the Protestant church, you must remember that we were indeed, at one time congregants in the Roman Catholic Church before our ancestors split. But, I have to say that I really like the notion that this church. The church down the street. The church on the other side of town were built on the rock of Peter.
And here is what is good news for you and me, Peter makes no claims to be the exclusive rock on which the church is built, and he goes on to designate all of us as “living stones” in the building of the church. What I always like about Peter is that he is a very human man. He walks on water but sinks when his faith falters. He declares that Christ is the son of God and that he will never deny Christ and then denies him three times. Very human. So, the foundation of this church is built on a very human man, yes, a great man…but human, and it appears as if God’s grace is that which keeps it going.
So, let’s take a moment to think about this “living stones” part of the church. If you and I are living stones, it must mean that we are not static/unchanging. It says to me that we in the church are living and so growing. Something does not grow very well if it is ignored. I mean, if we want to shape and grow something, we must work at it.
Last week the New Perspectives Youth Group and advisors met and planned for next summers work trips. They are considering several options. This past week, I came across a story of some living stones in a church which my previous church worked with in New York City on one of our previous work trips. Our youth might end up there next summer. Maybe. Maybe not. It certainly spoke of change and growth.
There is in NY City an Episcopalian congregation which had been around for many years. It’s named, The Church of the Holy Apostles and its building is a landmark with high arched ceilings and gorgeous stained-glass windows. Over the years, the congregation dwindled as the neighborhood changed until the membership of 200 could not pay the bills to keep it going. So, around 1982, the new rector said to the church “If Holy Apostles is going out of business, it might as well do some good before it does.”
So, they launched a free-lunch program. Thirty five people showed up the first day. Over the years it grew and it was serving 900 lunches daily and bursting at the seams of its mission house. In 1990 they were repairing the roof and a fire broke out and caused major damage. During renovation and restoration, with the pews out, members came up with the idea: Why not leave the pews out, and use the worship space, which was empty and unused Monday though Friday, for the lunch program?
Stop for a moment and think about this church in Dublin and THIS sanctuary having stone floors and movable tables and serving 1200 meals a day. Hard to imagine. In the New York City church… on Friday they take the tables down and set up folding chairs for the weekend worship.
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking OMG is Tussing suggesting that we tear everything out and start a soup kitchen? No, not at all. I am saying that the church and the building in New York City were built on such a solid foundation that they could contemplate using their sanctuary worship space for serving the hungry. Their people were such living stones that they could envision a ministry of serving more and more by the creative use of the sanctuary.
Now stop for a moment. I am going to ask you a question…this is merely rhetorical and theological…and those of you who are not paying attention up to this point had best continue to not focus or turn all attention to my question. It’s a simple question … can you think of anything more sacred than to use a church sanctuary for the feeding of the hungry. Can any of you think of anything more profound that Jesus ever said, than to feed the hungry? When I was in NYC, the notion of feeding the homeless and hungry in the sanctuary seemed nuts, at first. By the end of the lunch which we assisted with, it made perfect sense. OK, that’s the end of the story and my question of you. I will add this postscript that I am not in any way advocating we do this, because I know that some of you will be eating at Whole Foods later and say, “so was Tussing suggesting we do the same?” No, I am not saying that at all…but I do want you to think seriously about this notion of building on the rock of the Apostle Peter. I do want you to consider yourselves living stones.
So, I tell the stories of my home on Albert Street because we need to recognize that a foundation is not glamorous but so essential to everything else. I tell the story of All Apostles Church and their soup kitchen because it forms the bedrock of all that they now do. But, the problem in all this is that building and molding a foundation is not exciting. Building upon that rock foundation is the exciting part, but we cannot do the exciting part until we do the essential part. Jesus said, upon this rock will I build my church. Building the church is the exciting part. Setting the rock foundation in place is the less exciting but absolutely essential element of any ministry. Ours included. And in today’s hurry up I want it now society…that is a difficult thing to convey to the congregation. So, let me offer a final little story which is rather indicative of all that we must do and endure and wait for.
Not long ago, I was in San Francisco and went north a bit to Point Reyes by the ocean and one of the places I wanted to visit was this isolated lighthouse. Like all lighthouses, it was on a desolate shore, nearly inaccessible and it too time and perseverance to reach it. As I drove through the National Seashore Park office, I noted that the lighthouse was closed to the public on the Wednesday. It was Wednesday. But I thought, I am not going to see the lighthouse itself necessarily, I am mainly going for the journey to the lighthouse. I am going to experience the drive, the seashore, the isolation, the loneliness. I kept driving. I enjoyed it all. I kept telling myself…”so what, the lighthouse is closed, I am enjoying the journey.” And I did. I finally got there. The fog had the peninsula totally covered. And the wind was howling quite ferociously. It was like a blinding snowstorm in say, March. I parked the car in the tourist area and started the quarter mile walk along the ridge to the lighthouse. The wind blew, the fog enshrouded and every 100 yards a person or two would emerge coming towards me from out of the fog. It was like a Spielberg movie with aliens emerging every so often. I walked on towards the fog, wind and closed lighthouse. I got there and the elements were breathtakingly real. I enjoyed and wallowed in the cold, wind, and fog. The lighthouse steps were locked and you could see them disappear in the fog towards the ocean. I loved every bone-chilling minute of it. I looked. I felt the ocean right there and the forces of nature and realized that my long trip was well worth it. And I walked through the fog and wind back to the parking lot. As I got to the lot there was a group of four adults getting out of their car. They were unprepared for the chill of the ocean breeze and the daunting walk to the lighthouse. One of the women saw me emerge from the fog and knew I was returning from the unseen lighthouse and she said to me, “Is it worth it? Is it worth it to walk all the way to the lighthouse in THIS?”
I told her the lighthouse itself was closed but the journey there was breathtaking. She asked me again, “But is it worth it.”
I told her, “It was to me.” And she got back in her car and drove off.
Building a foundation on Christ is a windswept journey and much of it is often enshrouded in fog. The exciting stuff comes later but the foundation comes now. “Is it worth it?” It is to me.
Our final destination on our River Walk was near to where we began. The other day we attempted to find the huge and beautiful Assumption Cathedral. We found it today. The private school was letting out and hundreds of kids, parents, motorcycles and cars were flowing to and from the school. The kids looked like kids in Dublin. Snacks, laughing, fiddling with Iphones. Doing homework, looking excited or bored as the parents came to pick them up. We headed for the cathedral itself, eager to take a look. Out front was a statue of John Paul II who visited in 1984. Next to his statue was one of St. Peter himself who was holding the Keys to the Kingdom.
Alas, St. Peter did not also have the keys to the cathedral. It was locked up tight.