From the First Baptist Church in America pulpit
February 19, 2006
“It’s Not Just A Museum”
(Luke 13:10-17)
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Have ya’ll noticed how most people want on the front row of a ball game, the middle row at the movies and the back row of a church? I’m not sure what that says. But an elderly woman broke the mold, when she was greeted by a friendly usher who helped her up a flight of steps. "Where would you like to sit?" he asked politely. "The front row please," she answered. "Ah I wouldn’t do that," he said. "We’ve got some new preacher today. He’s probably boring." "Do you know who I am?" she asked. "Nope." "I'm the preacher's mother!" she replied indignantly. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. When she allowed as how she didn’t, he said, "Good!" A slippery word, that word “good.”

Reminds me of “Saving Private Ryan.” A World War II veteran returns to Europe 50 years after he was rescued from the war in Germany. But several American soldiers forfeited their lives for his. Now he’s an old man and brings his family with him, to grieve at the grave of one who died to save him; whose dying words were, “Earn it!” Ryan says to his wife as he fought back the tears, "Tell me that I’m a good man."

It seems like everybody wants to be called “good” but Jesus. When the rich young ruler called him “good Master,” even he squirmed. “Why do you call me good? Only God is good.” He was more interested in servant hood than being good.

Certainly we like to think our church is good. So what makes it good? Serving in the 4 corners of the country, I’ve learned that “good churches” are like “good preachers.” We’re all mixtures. There’s enough goodness in the worst of us. And enough badness in the best of us. That it behooves the rest of us to lighten up when we throw around that word, “good.” Like “Good Friday,” it can mean something else.

Most Americans think our churches ought to flourish like a Billy Graham Crusade. People streaming down the aisles and stuff. But if the church was as successful as the famous evangelist, there wouldn’t be a church. Since the ‘50's its what we look for in a “good” church. But we need to get out of the Book of Numbers and over into the Book of Acts!

Or Luke’s story about Jesus teaching on a Sabbath in a synagogue, when he startled the members and angered the religious for healing a crippled woman. But by this compassionate act on a hurting person, Jesus gives us the real standard by which we can measure our churches. And ourselves. This woman had been incapacitated for almost two decades. She was all bent over. So Jesus “set her free from her infirmity." Indignant because Jesus did the right thing on the wrong day, the religiously-correct synagogue ruler did what so often happens in church. He obsessed over the day and forgot all about the person. "There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days. But not on the Sabbath." And Jesus called him a hypocrite! No lie! For taking better care of their animals than a person! And “...the Sabbath-keepers were humiliated. But the regular people were delighted over it.”

Jesus was the guest preacher that day. And before he was through, he was embroiled in controversy ‑‑ stirring up trouble, pushing the boundaries of the acceptable, challenging social etiquette, disturbing the status quo, and aggravating those who liked to call the shots in church. All because he noticed this woman with a physical handicap and paused in the middle of his sermon to set her free. "...He laid hands on her. And immediately she straightened up and began praising God." And they didn’t like it, because what was good for her, was bad to them.

It’s easy for us to read this story today and miss the point. But those who first heard it didn’t miss the point. They were so offended by Jesus' actions that they refuted him. Why did they feel the need to do that? In the ancient world, the sick or handicapped were also stigmatized ‑‑ isolated and excluded from the religious community. It carried a tremendous emotional cost. Imagine the isolation of that!

“Bound for 18 years,” it wasn’t just physical bondage. It was also the social, emotional and religious quarantine. Because women were not allowed to participate in public worship in those days, it was really something when Jesus stopped preaching to recognized her. But when he healed her, and gave to her a rightful place within the worshiping community, he overstepped a couple of the religious taboos of his society.

But the worst of it was that he violated their interpretation of the Bible. We saw this week how the Islamic world responded to jokes. People died because some things are too sacred to laugh about. It didn’t take Jesus’ opponents long to pull the book on him. They quoted Exodus 20:9 verbatim: “Six days you shall labor. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work.” When you go beyond the sacred page, that’s taking it to the limit! Jesus knew the Law. And he’s bound to catch it from the legalists. But he also knew something else -- essential in his understanding of the kingdom of God. Jesus did a dangerous thing. He changed religion from ritual to relationship, where love comes first, above all else. Because if it doesn’t, church becomes something other than what God intended.

The Apostle said, “Though I speak with tongues...and have faith to move mountains...but have not love, I am nothing” (I Cor. 13). Love takes precedent over the Sabbath. More important than the Bible. It has primacy over our cultural traditions and orthodoxies. Even our fear of being controversial. Now we’re coming close to what a good church is. Everybody knows 1st Baptist is the oldest church in America. But why can’t it be known as the best! Never mind that it’s a museum. Is it a church? A good church that risks offending the righteous for trying to love somebody? What makes church good anyway? I think you know. But I get amused when people want to know how big is your church? “Big enough to have something in it to offend everybody!” Because when you use the word “good” in relation to a church, you have to ask, “By whose standards?” Ours or God’s? If our acceptance of people who are “different” offends; if our compassion, and love inflames, we’re in good company. Because we’d be a good church, according to God’s standards.

A woman called my office awhile back. And I could tell something was eating at her. She shared a lot about her background. But the real reason she came to see me was a theological question. She allowed as how she didn’t want to go to heaven! Neat! I don’t recall every meeting anybody who goes to church but didn’t want to go to heaven. But her reason was sound. Unfortunately, she had one of those persnickety, over-protective Moms, who had lots of probing questions every time she went out. “Who’re you going with? What are you gonna do? When will you be back?” Very suspicious. To get leverage, Mom would threaten her every time she might do something she didn’t approve of -- with heaven! Now I’ve heard of threatening folks with hell to get control. But here was a mom who threatened with heaven! “You’re not gonna go to heaven if you do that again!” “St. Peter will never let you thru the pearly gates!” And she admitted, “Now, I don’t even want to go to heaven!”

At 1^st it caught me off guard. We didn’t beat our kids over the head with heaven or hell. I did ground ‘em a few times. But not in any ultimate sense! Nothing to cause them to have to grovel before some preacher: “Will I go to hell for not wanting to go to heaven?” Its sad that our churches are full of folks who think to get people into heaven, you gotta give ‘em hell! But I’d expect better than that from a good church.

Let’s put it into today’s terminology and see if we measure up. A good church is people-oriented, mission-driven, Christ-centered. In a good church, the people are open-minded, open-hearted, open-handed. A good church will do something about outsiders--the poor, the broken-hearted, the captives and oppressed. And if it offends the nay-sayers, at least it’ll make God smile! If its good, it’ll be a place with quality worship; music that glorifies God, creative learning, and sacrificial sharing. In a good church, people are motivated so that service takes priority over status. And it doesn’t matter who gets the credit.

Like a hospital, it touches our wounds with healing. And is no more ashamed of sinners than an infirmary is of sick folks. Like a filling-station, it will inflate our emptiness with inspiration and spiritual power to accomplish our mission. And like a lighthouse, beaming the good news of the Gospel around and around in the community. Providing direction when times are dark. And a sense of purpose when times are uncertain.

Now I never make predictions -- especially about the future. But I will make a promise. Here’s the promise. Any church that’s like a hospital, a service station, and a lighthouse ... will never die. Dying or diminishing isn’t in the vocabulary of a good church. Because God won’t let it die. And the people won’t either.

And the folks in ol’ Providence will look at our church and say...

“Now that’s not just a museum. It’s a church. A good church. One I‘d be proud to be a part of.
All because it’s a place where the people try to be like Jesus.”