Text: II Corinthians 4:8-9; Romans 8:28-39
Editor's Note: the following eyewitness report to Presbyterian constituents in Mississippi helps all of us understand better the challenges and ongoing needs of the Gulf Coast. See elsewhere on this Web site for information on how to contact Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and support New Orleans-Gulf Coast recovery efforts.
Beleaguered but unvanquished--two of William Faulkner's favorite words. They describe the people of God who are called according to His purpose; people like you who have risen to the occasion, to bring light to the darkness, hope in the midst of despair, food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, clothing to those who only have the clothes they're wearing, encouragement to those who have lost it all.
Editor's note: The following homily was preached at the funeral of the Reverend George McMaster at Druid Hills Church in Atlanta, Ga., by Dr. Patrick D. Miller, Professor of Old Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary. It contains great comfort for the church and is a welcome testimony to the gospel in these troubled, dangerous times.
Not long ago, when Mary Ann and I were visiting with her mother, she asked me what I thought about heaven. I was taken aback at the time because my mind was, as usual, on more mundane things. I don't recall what response I made at the time, except that it was not very helpful. But the question was a serious one from this 90-year-old woman whose husband had died some years before. It has stuck with me ever since and in these few minutes I would like to take it up again with a bit more reflection.
Heaven really has two connotations in Christian faith. One is spatial -- up there -- and one is temporal -- beyond death. In the first instance, heaven is a symbol for God's reality and God's rule. It is a pointer to transcendence, to the fact that what we mean by God is one who is above and beyond all that we are even if among us.
Heaven is a biblical and Christian way of speaking about the abode of God. Some of you are old enough to remember when the Russian premier Nikita Khrushchev scoffed at the notion of God and heaven when he noted that the Russian astronauts had not seen God or heaven when they went into space. His mockery reflects a widespread tendency to literalize the notion of heaven, when in fact it is a symbol and not a literal reality, at least as described in the Bible. As a symbol, however, it points to something real, but something we can only think of in images and pictures because it is beyond us, and we do not have direct experience of it.
It was easy to feel sorry for them. The poor, displaced, battered citizens of New Orleans confronted us with the disparity of economic life in America.
But as the days turned to weeks, another subtext began to surface, showing an even greater disparity. A surprising number of the poor were, in fact, rich in spirit. Despite having little, they showed an enormous depth of spiritual understanding and a remarkable display of extravagant faith.
An elderly woman, finally pulled from her house after days of waiting, seemed surprisingly peaceful as television crews filmed her rescue. When a reporter asked if she was glad the rescuers had finally arrived she said, "Yes, I'm glad to see them. But I had the Lord with me whether anyone else showed up or not."
Unlike many of us whose wealth obscures our spiritual sight, this woman gave contemporary meaning to the Bible verse written by the Apostle Paul: "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." (Philippians 4:12)
The Book of Order is a compendium of Presbyterian experience based on nearly three hundred years of practice, prayer and study of Scripture. Occasionally church officers get the mistaken opinion that it is a static document, forever fixed by someone in the presbytery or General Assembly.
Last week in New Orleans ... nobody took control. ... The rich escaped while the poor were abandoned. ... Partisans squabbled while the nation was ashamed. The first rule of the social fabric -- that in times of crisis you protect the vulnerable -- was trampled.
I have pondered these words by David Brooks on the Sunday (9/4) New York Times Op-Ed page almost relentlessly. After 23 years as pastor of a downtown church, I know the names of Richmond's vulnerable too well for comfort. Our congregation, together with more than 100 churches and synagogues in the city, has ministered to them, sometimes with opposition from the city and the powerful. We have served them lunches, listened to their woes, celebrated their joys, seen the plight of their circumstances in adult homes, and directed them to medical care or emergency assistance. We have preached their funerals. We have sheltered them and visited them, and with many agencies, have tried to keep them from homelessness. Their faces are the faces of those multitudes abandoned by the authorities in New Orleans.
The seminaries and their constituent congregations enjoy a deep and abiding relationship within the ethos of American Presbyterianism. In fact, in a time when much of our denominational ecosystem is under some degree of stress and decline, it is my observation that the seminaries and the great majority of our Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) congregations remain its healthiest components.
With respect to our ten PC(USA) seminaries, I have already had ample opportunity in my three years of serving as a seminary president to get a good look at the complexion of theological education in North America, and I believe they are without peer. They represent the gold standard when it comes to the quality of education, the quality of faculty, the quality of clergy being sent out into the church, the value base still alive in our denomination for the stewardship of the mind, and their sheer institutional strength and stability.
It is also interesting to me, in terms of the relationship our seminaries have to the church, that over the last decade, when Presbyterian seminaries have chosen presidents, they have overwhelmingly chosen pastors and not academicians--persons who, even if they have a Ph.D., are coming straight from the parish where they have spent most of their ministry. That is a profound statement, I believe, that at a deep level the church and the seminary want to be in still closer conversation.
And maybe it's about time, the church and the seminary may be saying to one another. From the church's perspective, there is this sense--not always justifiable, in my humble opinion--that the seminaries are out of touch with the life of the church; that their faculties are not sufficiently engaged in the on-the-ground life of the church; and that the questions we pursue in seminary are not necessarily the questions that most concern the church.
What is the meaning of Reformed theological education for the life of the Presbyterian Church in these days of extreme diversity and conflict?"
These days, pastors and faithful disciples in the pews are wondering if the Presbyterian Church can hold together amidst all the tossing and turning. Some wonder why we don't just call a meeting, hire a good lawyer, get a divorce, split up the property, and move on. Seminary students wonder if there will be a church to serve after they graduate. We know it wouldn't be the first time the Church has divided, though concord after these divisions has lasted for only a short time. And we know from our constitution that Visible oneness, by which a diversity of persons, gifts, and understandings is brought together, is an important sign of the unity of God's people. It is also a means by which that unity is achieved. (Book of Order, G-4.0203).
In these days of extreme diversity and conflict, as we seek the peace, unity, and purity of the church, it seems as if we are walking a tight wire. The question becomes, "How shall we maintain our balance?" That's a question for Reformed theological education.
A few weeks ago, after Pittsburgh Seminary had announced that I would be its next President, the editor of The Presbyterian Outlook asked me, "Bill, why are you leaving the parish to return to the academy?" The short answer might be "the three great things about academia: June, July and August!", but real scholars know better. It never really slows down that much in the summer months with all the Hebrew and Greek courses, and all the continuing education events. Administrators and staff especially plow right on. Faculty members put the finishing touches on those tomes they have been trying to write all year.
Still, the editor's question hung in the air waiting to be answered.
Actually, there were two parts to the question: (a) Why are you leaving the church for the school and (b) What should the school be doing for the church these days?
Excerpts from an address at the Louisville Seminary Luncheon, 216th General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) in Richmond, Va, June 30, 2004 and published in the fall 2004 issue of The Mosaic of Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary.
For more than 150 years, this precious schoolhouse of the church has specialized in training good pastors for the church -- good pastors who have been called to live and hope as expectant servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. ... Reverently and expectantly, I want our first conversation as family to focus on a vision about the good pastors we hope to continue to train in our community of the Word at Louisville Seminary.
First, I believe the good pastor is a passionate/compassionate believer of the Christian gospel. Our people in the pews long for pastors who passionately/ compassionately believe what they preach and teach. Indeed, from a parishioner's viewpoint, one of the most priceless affirmations a preacher can receive is: "I can tell you really believe what you preach." That is, our congregations deeply yearn to call good pastors who will articulate with passion the belief that Jesus Christ is incomparably the most significant event in the history of the human race; that Jesus is God's own heart of flesh who crawled into the cradle of Bethlehem and who climbed onto the cross of Golgotha; that Jesus, in the words of Joseph Sittler, "comes to us in the world where we are, where we have been, and where we are going...."; that Jesus is the risen Lord and Savior of all times and all places; that to know God now in Jesus Christ is to know God forever.
I was sitting in my office in mid-May, writing thank you letters to donors, when the phone rang.
"This is Jordana Hochman from Morning Edition. I was referred to you by the Association of Theological Schools."
"Well, what can I do for you?"
"I have a question. Depending on your answer, I may want to interview you."
"So?"
The essence of her question: "Well, since the mainstream churches are dying--declining, at least-- and not hiring new clergy, what are your graduates going to do?"
"First, our graduates will do what they have always done--the great majority will go and serve and lead as pastors, educators, and scholars for local churches, many of which by the way are thriving. God's Word and God's work are being faithfully proclaimed and engaged, just as in every generation since the resurrection of Jesus."
"Is there a disconnect between congregations and seminaries? Isn't your enrollment declining?" she asked.
"No. On both counts. Our faculty members are all deeply involved in local church life. Members of the faculty ordained as pastors who have joined us since 1994 when I arrived have an average of nine years of experience leading local congregations. That is more experience on average than when I was a student here in the mid-sixties!
"We will have 104 degrees received--that's more than average for the last score of years at least. I understand several of our partner seminaries in the Presbyterian Church have increased enrollments and graduations now, too."
I proceeded to tell her about some of the recent graduates and some of the congregations they serve. I spoke of the heavy requirements in this and many other Presbyterian seminaries--both Hebrew and Greek language, lots of Bible, theology, history, ethics, worship, mission, and focus on skills for ministry such as teaching, evangelism, leading worship, and giving pastoral care.
© Copyright 2023 The Presbyterian Outlook. All Rights Reserved. Privacy Statement. Website by Web Publisher PRO
