Nancy E. Petty

Pullen Memorial Baptist Church

January 20, 2008 – Second Sunday after Epiphany

Text: Isaiah 49:1-8

The Life and Work of a Servant Church

Last week I suggested that a fundamental question for people of faith is whether we will choose to worship Jesus or follow him. It is a question that each of us must struggle to answer individually; not so much so with our words but with our very lives in how we treat our neighbors as well as our enemies and how we respond to the needs of the world. This week I want to ask another question; one more corporate or communal in nature. My question is: What kind of church will we, Pullen Memorial Baptist Church, choose to be in 2008? This may seem like an obvious question for a church like Pullen that has the reputation of having, shall we say, a colorful and somewhat rebel-rousing history—a history that, from its inception, has been described by others as radical and liberal thinking, social justice-acting, and peace-promoting. But sometimes it is the obvious question that we forget to ask and I have learned that when we forget to ask the most glaring or obvious questions in life we live in danger of losing sight of what we want our response to be. And so today, I come asking what may seem to be an obvious question for our church: What kind of church will we, the Pullen Memorial Baptist Church, choose to be in 2008?

Our world is full of all different kinds of churches engaged in various ministries and missions. Frequently, when I pick up our local paper I read about some of these churches: coffee house churches focused on bringing the younger generation back into the fold; congregations committed to family ministry with building projects designed for such; churches with praise bands and Christian rock music hoping to more fully engage today’s youth; evangelical churches whose sole purpose is “winning people to Christ” and “saving the souls of the lost”; church-like organizations calling men back to their primary role of being the “head of the family”; and there are even churches in our city whose main mission is one of preaching financial prosperity. My purpose in mentioning these is not judgment. I fully believe that God’s kingdom is inclusive and that we are not all called to the same mission. But in the midst of such diversity, the question, “What kind of church will we be?” begs our full attention and our most intentional response.

On occasion, I will hear someone lament that they wish they could come to church and not have to hear about all the bad things happening in the world. “Why do we have to be so political?” they ask. “Why do we have to be reminded of all the suffering in the world?” “Why do we always have to talk about the war or gun violence or how bad we’re treating the environment?” “Why do we have to talk about homosexuality all the time?” “Can’t we just come to church and be comforted?” “Can’t I come to church and escape the world for just an hour?” When I hear such comments I am reminded of how overwhelmed most of us feel on a weekly basis with all the problems of this world. In a culture focused on instant information, supported by sophisticated technology, we are inundated daily with images of suffering and affliction; disaster and devastation; despair and hopelessness. And some days it is just way too much to process.

A natural and human response to the despairs and problems of the world, not to mention our own personal problems, is to long for a place where we can escape and experience some relief. And it’s reasonable to long for the church to be that place. I understand wanting a safe and comforting place for the aching soul. I “get” wanting to have an escape from all the confusion, complexity, chaos, intensity, and divisiveness that is a part of our world and our individual lives. More than anything, I, too, want the church to be that place—a place of comfort and safety; of encouragement and hope—for you and for me. But one thing I am clear about: I don’t want to be a part of a church that provides comfort and safety apart from addressing my everyday life experience and the realities of the world in which I live. I don’t want to be a part of a church that offers false encouragement and ungrounded hope just because it might sound good or make me feel better in the moment. For many of us, the church has already told us too many lies and left us with too many empty hopes and promises. They told us, “All are welcome. God loves you.” and then they said, “But not you or you or you.” I don’t want to be a part of a church that doesn’t ask the hard questions of our faith—politically, socially, environmentally, spiritually, economically—for fear of what it might mean for how I am to live in the world as a person of faith. So I ask again, “What kind of church do we want to be?” Do we want to be a church that makes a difference in people’s lives or do we simply want to be a church that makes people feel good?

In the prologue of his book, Our Heritage and Our Hope, Roger Crook writes: “The enduring ideals, the fixed commitments, and the confident hope which have characterized [Pullen church] demand a continuing embodiment in a believing, worshipping, and working fellowship… Pullen Memorial Baptist Church will not be a club for religious people but a community of faith. The congregation will not be held together by their friendship with another but by the love of God. They will not be a people who come to enjoy the Sunday morning service but a people who present themselves in worship before God. They will not be a people who measure success by numbers but a people dedicated to making a difference in the world. They will not be a people concerned with the survival of the church but a people committed to the ministry of the church. They will not be a people bound by the past but a people who draw strength from the past. They will not be a people who despair of the future but a people whose heritage offers hope.”

I thought of Roger’s words when I read our text from Isaiah 49. The beginning verses of Isaiah 49 is a beautiful poetic hymn commonly referred to as a “servant’s song.” It depicts Isaiah’s own understanding of his call, even while in his mother’s womb, to be God’s servant. And while he voices his doubt in his ability to be God’s servant saying, “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity,” the beauty of Isaiah 49 is that he also re-commissions himself as he is reminded that as God’s servant he is called to be “a light to the nations.”

What this phrase “a light to the nations” means has been variously interpreted. What seems clear, though, in all the interpretations, is that the nations are to be illuminated through the servant’s activity and existence. A light is not a focus of attention itself, but serves to open eyes and hearts to something previously not perceived. To be “a light to the nations” does not mean going out and converting “peoples from far away” by word. Instead it means bearing the affliction and hardship of others thereby conveying to them God’s compassion and mercy and justice. This is the life and work of God’s servant and of God’s servant church—bearing the affliction and hardship of our world so that through our activity and our existence we become “a light to the nations.”

Every time John T. Pullen stood with the outcasts of Raleigh, the forgotten women and children of this community, he was being a light to the nations. In 1937 when Edwin McNeil Poteat addressed his fellow Baptists at Ridgecrest and accused Southern Protestants of standing by complacently “as constitutional rights are denied millions of fellow citizens” and called upon them to “accord the Negro his civil title and discontinue racial segregation in public worship” he was being a light to the nations. In the 60’s and 70’s when W.W. Finlator spoke an unpopular word against war and marched with union workers for their rights, he was being a light to the nations. Throughout that same time period Geraldine Cate was being “a light to the nations” as she ministered to the men and women in our local jails and prisons. But more than these individuals, this church has been “a light to the nations.” We have said that “All are welcomed and that God loves you as you are” and we have meant it—both in our activity and existence. We have asked the tough questions of our faith and in so doing we have discovered a depth of theological integrity that has renewed us to live more faithfully and authentically—both in our activity and existence. This church, throughout its history, has wrestled with the hard theological, political and social questions of the day and ironically, in so doing, it has been a safe and comforting place to many a people who had all but given up on the church. In the best sense of the word, Pullen Memorial Baptist Church has been a servant church—bearing the affliction and hardship of others thereby conveying to them God’s compassion and mercy and justice. We have a history of being “a light to the nations.” And we have a heritage of offering hope to a confused, hurting, and complex world. “What kind of church will we choose to be in 2008?” With courage and conviction may we answer: a servant church! And in so doing, we may also hear God saying to us: In a time of favor I have answered you, on the day of salvation I have helped you; I have kept you and given you as a covenant to the people. In 2008, may our church continue to be “a light to the nations.”