SHAKE OFF DULL SLOTH
Psalm 92; Hebrews 10:19-25

A sermon given by the Rev. Richard H. Taylor
September 19, 2004 / Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

“Awake my soul, and with the sun
thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise
to pay thy morning sacrifice.
“Redeem thy mis-spent time that’s past,
live this day as if ‘twere thy last:
Improve thy talent with due care;
for the great Day thyself prepare.” 1

During my sabbatical I did more than the outline of work on church history that I had prepared before leaving. I also worked on sermon outlines. And I attended church. Actually, I attended church because I need to worship. I simply can’t imagine spending a Sunday without worship. Something inside me would feel wrong.

But I also have to admit, when a person who professionally leads worship attends the worship of another church, there is also a professional side that takes over some of my attention. What is worship like elsewhere? Would I get any good ideas? Would I hear a spectacular sermon? Would I find the perfect Church? I must admit, its interesting watching a church from the pew side of things.

I was gone for ten Sundays. On the way out I was asked to preach at my former congregation in Pennsylvania. On the way back I went to church with my sister-in-law at her congregation. During the eight Sundays I was in Chicago I went to six different churches: once with a friend to theirs, and to five in the neighborhood where I was staying. After the six different ones, I went back to one I liked two more times.

As you might expect, on all but two Sundays I went to United Church of Christ churches. I did not find the perfect church. Nor did I hear the greatest sermon ever given.

Well, what’s going on in other churches?

Now my loud voice sometimes got me invitations to join a choir. But I also stood at many a social hour with nobody speaking to me. It was a let down too when I discovered one church had cancelled social hour for the summer.

Surprisingly every Church in Chicago was racially integrated. I thought we were ahead of the ball on that one, but it seems to be changing. Also, every church in Chicago – even though it was the summer – unlike us, tried to do something in the service to acknowledge and welcome children, even if they didn't have many.

I found that I liked bright, clean, and beautiful buildings, and had trouble with the ugly, the dark, and the dirty. Even though some of the buildings were big, I found that I liked it better when the people tried to sit near each other. When they were scattered all over the place, people seemed unrelated to each other.

Some churches had cold formal liturgies, others were disturbingly loose around the edges. Sometimes there were long pauses in the service when people were walking around or looking at each other, and you wondered who had missed a cue, or if they took their time like this all the time? Several times I had people come up to me and look at me like I was supposed to be doing something that was not explained in the bulletin. I had to quickly look around and find out what was going on. So I really liked it when one church carefully explained in their bulletin what to expect.

I liked it where the music was accessible and you were welcome to participate. Some churches had music that obviously no one knew, and their was mumbling and silence. Some music was lively, well done, and worshipful.

Many churches wanted to be sensitive to prayer concerns and joys, but some seemed to comfortably welcome these thoughts, while others seemed stilted, awkward, or confined.

I heard all kinds of sermons. One was an intellectual lecture with huge vocabulary, impressive scholarship, and little point. Another was given by a seminary student giving – she admitted – her first public sermon. Someone had told her to preach without notes, and she got lost. I found myself praying for her in the sermon time so that she could be more relaxed.

Only one service had something happen where I felt I didn't want to visit there again – and it was an arrogance on the part of the preacher. Some of the lay people there felt quite nice.

So these are some of my professional assessments.

But let me say, when I sat back and thought about worship this summer I was very pleased. What I really came away with was that in many places, and many ways, people are faithfully trying to be the church. In each of these places there were people who wanted to worship, who wanted to be with each other. Hardly a service would go by where you didn't find some mission cause that the church cared about. Several churches were open and affirming, and others were considering it. Races were coming together. Children were being welcomed. Scripture was being read and thought about. God’s name was praised.

While we so often bemoan what is happening to the Church, and perfection does not exist, there are people who are being faithful, who open the doors, arrange the flowers, practice the songs, prepare the sermons, engage in mission. God’s name be praised!

I was reminded of my experiences attending Black services when I lived in Michigan. Time and time again in African-American churches I heard the deacon or the pastor begin the service by giving thanks for the day. Some would begin by saying “Thank you God for waking me up this morning, and giving me another day to praise your name.” It had a kind of immediacy I have seldom seen in white churches. White churches are often all caught up in long range plans. They have such long, complicated agendas that they fail to give thanks for the here and now, for this very day.

But what I felt in Chicago was this: isn't it wonderful? I can wake up on a Sunday morning, where I am a total stranger, and just wandering down a street I can find a place where God’s name is praised. I felt like the Psalmist: “It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto thee, O Lord most high; to declare thy steadfast love every morning, and thy faithfulness every night.”

What a wonderful thing it is to be able to worship. I hope you have that sense in your life, and if not, I pray that you may be able to grow into it.

The writer to the Hebrews also talks about worship. The apostle says that through Jesus we can have “confidence to enter the sanctuary.” The apostle recommends that we should approach “with a true heart, and full assurance of faith.” Then the epistle says “Let us provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together as some have done, but encouraging one another.”

That’s what I want to do for you this morning: to encourage you in your life of worship. Beneficent, like the churches I visited is not a perfect place. There is something here which will probably seem strange or rub you the wrong way. But there is also a group of faithful people who have arranged the flowers, and practiced the songs, and opened the doors, to prepare for yours and God’s great day.

The apostle says that one of the uses of worship is to “provoke one another to love and good deeds.” Maybe that’s why some people don’t come to worship. Go there and someone might provoke you. That’s what happened to me this summer: I got provoked about AIDS, and the needs of people in Angola, and individuals facing health crises, and the need to hassle governments in the cause of justice, and seeking donations for the hungry, and the challenges of people’s transition to retirement, and what it means to feel welcome in a big city when visiting from Oberlin, Ohio. All these things provoked me to “love and good deeds.” I liked being provoked. I hope you do too. Perchance some who neglect worship want to be distanced from love and good deeds. Too bad. Worship can be resilient and fulfilling.

So I encourage you on this Sunday and future Sundays to consider the joy of worship.

“Awake my soul, and with the sun
thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise
to pay thy morning sacrifice.
“Redeem thy misspent time that’s past,
live this day as it ‘twere thy last:
Improve thy talent with due care;
for the great Day thyself prepare.”

Amen.

1 – Thomas Ken (1637-1711)