First Presbyterian Church
Rev. Sam Pendergrast
October 5, 2008
Philippians 3:4-14
"Pressing On Toward the Goal"
The story is told of a frontier preacher from the pioneer days. He was one of those who ministered to the families who were the first to settle the territory out beyond the Mississippi River. He spent his days traveling the open country, and whenever he would encounter a settlement, a family of homesteaders or people heading west he would stay with them for a while to listen to their stories, provide human companionship, preach a little bit, baptize babies and sometimes bury the dead. One day he came upon a lonely sod house on the prairie. The only person he saw was an elderly woman, sitting in the shade beside the house. Greeting her, he commented on the weather, asked about the crops, and then asked about her family. Her sons were out working the fields. Her daughters were married and had moved away.
"What about your husband?" asked the pastor.
"He's gone on ahead." said the woman tersely.
"I'm sorry to hear that. How long ago did he die?"
She gave him a look and then spat into the dust. "He ain't dead. He's just gone on ahead."
Some of those old pioneers were restless types - never satisfied, always looking for what was across the next river or over the next mountain, ready to move on. They didn't let much grass grow under their feet. Some of them, like the old woman's husband, literally embodied the Apostle Paul's statement: "I forget the past and I strain ahead for what is still to come." That old man may not have been looking for Jesus. In fact, he may have been running away from something.
God doesn't call us to run away from our responsibilities. Sometimes God's call may require us to get up and move. Sometimes God's call invites us to discover what is new in our own soul and in our own familiar surroundings. Always God's call invites us to watch and listen and to welcome God's new reality into our lives and to grow in our walk with Jesus, and to be free of getting stuck in the past.
Paul easily could have stayed stuck in his past. He had a good thing going. He had inherited faith from a rich tradition. He had been raised and trained according to the Law. He had been taught by the best rabbis. He was as righteous as any Jew could be. He kept the Law. He had risen to the top of his profession. He had power and position. He was using his authority to round up the heretics who were followers of that poor, misguided Jesus fellow who claimed to be the son of God. What did he need to change for? He had it made.
As we know from the story of his conversion, he had an experience of the risen Jesus that changed his life. He says that now he regards all of his position and accomplishments as trash in comparison to the wealth of his relationship with Jesus. It is that relationship that he wants to grow and to lead him toward the promise of life in the resurrection when all things are made new. And he does not want to stop until he reaches that goal. He knows he is not there. He knows that there is always more to know, to learn and to experience. He knows that he will never get there in this life, yet still he presses on. Of all things in the world, the thing he wants most is for his walk with the Lord to grow deeper and deeper until his life shows the love, power and grace of Jesus to the world. He knows he will never get there completely. Still, that is the end toward which he moves.
I can identify with Paul in some ways. I was born to a Presbyterian family. On my mother's side of the family, my grandfather and great-grandfather were pastors. My twice great grandfather was an elder and lay preacher. Their family name is Lapsley, which is my middle name. If you know the Presbyterian Church, you know that there is a presbytery in Alabama named "Sheppards and Lapsley Presbytery." It was named for my grandfather's uncle, who went with an African-American minister named Sheppards in the 1890s to what was then called the Belgian Congo as a missionary for the old Southern Church. They were the first PCUS missionaries to the Congo and the first bi-racial mission team ever sent out by the church. It is a proud heritage.
I was raised in the church. When I was twelve I memorized the Children's Catechism and was given a pocket New Testament. I was a leader in the church youth group. I worked at our presbytery camp summers during high school and college. At college I was a worship leader for the Sunday services in the student center. Later on, before I went to seminary to study, I worked in the church full-time for two years as a youth ministry intern. At Louisville Seminary I was an 'A' student.
All of that and two dollars will get me a large coffee down the street at the Daily Grind. It makes a good story. It may impress someone. But it's all in the past. All of my credentials and my history without the love, forgiveness and power for new life that comes from knowing Jesus are worthless. Echoing Paul, I count all of that as rubbish compared to knowing Jesus as Lord. Without him, I have nothing to give anyone except old stories. Without him, I have nothing to offer but nostalgia. Without his forgiveness, without his power to make me new each day, without his grace, without the faith, hope and love that comes from my relationship with him, I would be left trying to do it all by myself.
If my ministry and my leadership in the church were all up to me, we'd all be in trouble. If I only looked backward and traded on my pedigree and background, I would quickly burn out. The only way any of us can be effective ministers is to turn to God each day to be filled, to know that no matter how badly we may have messed up the day before, we can begin again. We are not trapped by the past. No matter how inadequate we may be, God always has more to give us. And on the other hand, no matter what we may accomplish, God always has more in store for us. No matter how good we feel about how the church is doing or how thankful we are for the fresh energy and signs of hope, we have only begun to scratch the surface.
The way you have expressed your appreciation for my ministry among you has warmed my heart. I am grateful for your words of thanks and for the comments some of you have made wishing you could keep me. I am thankful for the work God has accomplished during my time here. I am experiencing the grief of leaving you as I move on to accept a call to the church in New York. I pray for continued growth during the rest of this interim period as your PNC continues to search. I am thankful for your prayers as I begin my new ministry. It would be unnatural for us to feel otherwise after what we have been through together.
With all that in mind, I urge you to keep pressing on toward the goal. There are a lot of reasons you or I could get stuck. I could look back and long for the good old days. I could bask in the satisfaction of work well done. I could be afraid of taking the risk of trying something new. We all need to keep pressing on. No matter where you are in your relationship with God, there is always more. Whether you're an old-timer here or if you just joined, the Lord invites you to go deeper, to climb higher and to keep on growing. I love that image from the last book of the Chronicles of Narnia series. When they get to heaven they are always going "further up and further in" and the further they go the bigger and more wonderful it becomes, like an onion in reverse with every layer bigger than the last.
This congregation could easily be tempted to look back and trade on its pedigree. You've been here on Third Street for more than 150 years. You have a beautiful sanctuary and a heritage of good music. You've told me stories of the saints and patriarchs of the church - Harriette Denham, Reverend Von Thurn and others. You remember days when the world was different and the church was different, and you have precious memories of those times. I hope you will remember and that you will keep pressing on. Look ahead to what God has in store for you next.
One of the main reasons I say that is that the last ten people who joined this church didn't know a thing about how this church used to be. The fact that certain prominent people used to be members in the old days doesn't mean a thing to them. They don't know the Cochrans or Mary Duke Ford. They don't remember the old days or what you used to do at Christmas. It's not that those people or traditions aren't important. But the past doesn't define the church. The future God is bringing into being, the thing we call the Kingdom of Heaven, is what defines the church.
The newest members came to this church and joined this church because they are looking for a closer walk with God. They came here because they want to grow in faith. And they came here because they met you and were welcomed into the fellowship of this church. They didn't join a church that used to be. They joined a church that is now and that is going somewhere new. They joined a church that God is calling into the future.
And the next ten people who will join you in the journey of faith will join because you are open to the Spirit's leading and are eager to press on into the future. They will join this church because they meet people who, in Paul's words, "want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection." People don't join a church that used to be something. They join a church that is something.
Tell your stories. Give thanks for the way God has led you in days gone by. And let go of the power the past has to trap you. Strain ahead for that which is still to come. You've probably heard the story of the woman who died and at the funeral home people were asking why she had a fork in her hand. "That was her wish," said her daughter. "Whenever she was at a dinner party and the plates were being cleared, if someone said, 'Keep your fork.' she knew that something good was coming. When she died, she knew something good was coming."
Something good is coming. We can keep pressing on knowing that whatever we have done and wherever we have been, there is something even better waiting just around the bend.