John 10:1-10
“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
The dictionary defines abundance as “plentiful: present in great quantities” and “well-supplied: providing a more than plentiful supply of something.” Synonyms include “copious, rich, profuse, and lavish.”
We know how our society defines abundant life: as a life of abundance, with a “more than plentiful supply” of wealth and power, and copious amounts of everything that wealth and power can accumulate.
I read a story this week about a church that had interesting views on “abundant life.” A writer tells the story about a friend of his who began following Christ in mid-life. “As a successful businessman, he chose to attend the flashiest and seemingly, most successful church in town. All was well whilst he parked the Mercedes with the other upscale cars in the lot on Sunday. This seemed to be just the right community of affirming and encouraging folk that would help him to follow Jesus. Some months into this adventure, [the author’s] friend went through an economic crisis which saw him lose everything. . . . Now walking to church, and wearing the same clothes week after week, he began to stand out from the congregating crowd. It wasn’t long before he was approached by two of the church elders, who asked to come and see him at home. During that visit in his home (now emptied by the Sherriff and the debt collectors), he was asked please to find another church community, as his circumstances ‘no longer witnessed to the abundant life’ that members of that church were called to live!”[1]
How tragic, to define abundant life by such empty things. And yet it is pervasive. I watched a video recently about product branding, about emotional branding. It used to be enough for advertisers to tell us that Bounty was the quicker-picker-upper. Now a product has to change our life, give it meaning. Starting in the 1990s, marketing folks studied brands which had a cult-like following. And what they discovered was that people joined cults and joined brands for the exact same reasons: “they need to belong, and they want to make meaning.”[2]
The object of emotional branding is to get consumers to connect emotionally and spiritually with your product, and according to the experts, “to fill the empty places where non-commercial institutions like schools and churches might have once done the job.”[3]
Wow and ouch. So now a sneaker or a computer is trying to fill the role that the church used to fill but no longer does: to provide a place of belonging, and a way to make meaning. That’s a lot to expect from a sneaker.
This is not the abundant life Jesus was talking about. It seems obvious to us that Jesus was not talking about possessions when he talked about abundant life. But it’s a little harder to define what he did mean. One theologian I like puts it this way: To have life abundantly means “the chance to not simply persist, but thrive, to not simply exist, but flourish. To have a sense of meaning, purpose, and fulfillment; to know and be known, accept and be accepted. I believe that if there is one thing that pretty much everyone . . . desires — even if they can’t name that desire — it’s this. More than that, I believe we regularly make all kinds of sacrifices in the hope to earn or achieve or purchase this life, and each time we fail it kills us just a little.”[4]
Our scripture tells us that how we receive true abundant life is through relationship with Christ or Spirit or The Divine. I don’t mean the “Have-you-accepted-Jesus-as-your-personal-Lord-and-Savior” kind of relationship, although that’s fine if you have it. To me, an authentic relationship with God means that we seek the voice of God, and we follow, like the sheep who recognize their shepherd’s voice.
I don’t claim to always recognize the voice of God. In fact, sometimes I can be quite hard of hearing. I remember one week, many years ago, when my sermon just would not come. It was Saturday afternoon, and I didn’t have a sermon. Then Saturday evening, then midnight. Well, I had a sermon, but it was lousy and I knew it. Finally, exhausted, I went to bed and set my alarm for a few hours later. I got up very early that Sunday morning, and as my computer started up I prayed, “Lord, I need your help! This sermon is not going to reach anybody, and I don’t know how to fix it, and I don’t have much time. Please help me!” An hour later I had a sermon . . . probably not the best I’d ever written, but I knew I was saying what I felt led to say.
As I printed the sermon and headed for the shower, I prayed again, “Oh, thank you, Lord!” And I heard the voice of God, clear as day, say to me: “Well, if you’d asked sooner!”
I have tried to remember that lesson: to ask sooner rather than later, to ask frequently rather than occasionally. And I’ve been asking a lot in the last six months. That’s how long I’ve been here, how long I’ve been your pastor. I have spent this time learning: learning the routine of our life together, learning which committee to ask for what, learning who you are and who we are together. All along the way I’ve been trying to listen for God’s direction and it has been leading to this day.
You see, I’ve been looking over my sermons since I started, and there are some patterns I didn’t recognize at the time.
On my first Sunday here, back in November, I said to you: “To be followers of Christ rather than just fans of Christ, we may need to leave some safety nets behind.” In December I said that during Advent we were preparing: preparing our hearts for new incarnations; preparing our souls for new manifestations of God among us; and preparing our ears for new voices. In January I said, as I placed water on your heads, “You are God’s beloved child. Remember, and be bold.” The next week I said, “Come and see what God might do.” In February I reminded you that “Our playing small does not serve the world . . .” And in April I said, “If God can breathe life into dry, dead bones, then just imagine what God can do with us—here—now” And on Easter there was “nothing on our tongues but Hallelujah!”
So now it’s time. Now it is time for us to leave some safety nets behind, to listen to new voices, to be bold, and to come and see what God can do. In other words, it is time to dream.
Depending on how you came into the building this morning, you may have seen this already. On the curved wall, in the hallway beside the sanctuary, you will find a new panorama that I’m calling our Dream Wall. Right now it is mostly blank except for three questions: What are you passionate about? What are the unmet needs in our community? What gifts do you bring?
I invite you to write your answers to these questions on that paper. These three questions (and your answers) will stay on the wall for three months. And then we will try to figure out how those things intersect.
I have a few instructions. First, be specific. Don’t write simply that you are passionate about “education” or “justice” or “church growth.” Tell us what kind and who and why. Second, don’t worry about making your answers connect. You may be passionate about one thing, and see an unmet need in a completely different area. So don’t worry about continuity between your answers. And if somebody has already written your answer, let us know. Write beside it a “yes!” or an “Amen!” or a “me too!” so we know how many people are passionate about the same thing. You may immediately know what you want to write on the wall, or you may need to think about it for a few weeks. It doesn’t matter. You have three months to answer three questions.
I’m calling this our Dream Wall because I’m hoping that the process will help us dream. It will provide a space where we can see one another’s passions and gifts, where our eyes can be opened to new possibilities. I don’t know what will come of this; I have no control over it. (Which, I’ll admit, makes me just a wee bit nervous!) It may reveal the vast diversity of this congregation, and give us permission and courage to head into different areas on our own. Or it may reveal the unified heart of this congregation, and give us a new vision for tomorrow. I don’t know. But I’m willing to trust God.
God is speaking, calling us forward. I don’t exactly where, but I do know it will be at the intersection of our passions and the world’s needs. And I do know that there, at that intersection, we as a church will find abundant life—a life of sharing and caring, a life of holding close and reaching out, a life of abundant mercy and lavish service. What are you passionate about? What are the unmet needs in our community? And what gifts do you bring?
Imagine what God can do with us now.