Introit: My Shepherd, You Supply My Need - 80
Welcome/Call to Worship
Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley. To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here!
This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing.
We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. There is also a nursery available. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that reality a gift.
There are information cards in the pew in front of you—if you are a guest, or if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship.
For those watching online or for those who would like to follow along, our liturgy for every service is posted on our website before the service begins.
We invite you to Sunday School at 10 AM every week. There’s classes that meet in the Seekers room and the Parlor. There is also a combined children and youth class that meets in the MUB. Godly Play meets behind the sanctuary for our younger elementary students.
Sting Fling is this Saturday! We’ve got our church fans, our water bottles, our beautiful lattice where people will be invited to leave a prayer and take a blessing with them. We need volunteers for the afternoon portion. If you can do a two-hour shift, please sign-up on Realm or on our sign-up sheets at each entry table.
And mark your calendars for our final Gospels and Groceries of the year on Wednesday, September 28. We’ll bring food for the Little Free Pantry and have a hymn sing.
To keep up with all the life we live together here at Azle Christian Church, make sure you follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. Make sure you’re downloaded the Realm app to stay up to date!
We continue our back-to-school worship series this morning: Study Hall: A Series on the Letter to the Colossians.
Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.
Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.
Call to Worship: We Call Ourselves Disciples - 357
Litany of Faith
One: Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seat of the scornful!
All: Their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on this law they meditate day and night.
One: They are like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither;
All: Everything they do shall prosper.
One: It is not so with the wicked, they are like the chaff which the wind blows away.
All: Therefore the wicked shall not stand upright when judgment comes.
(From Psalm 1)
Pastoral Prayer
The Lord be with you.
Join me in prayer…
(“Called beyond Comfort Zone” from Walter Brueggeman)
Holy One,
We are among your called.
We have heard and answered your summons.
You have addressed us in the deep places of our lives.
In responsive obedience we testify,
As we are able, to your truth as it concerns our common life.
We thank you for the call,
For the burden of that call,
For the risk that goes with it,
For the joy of words given us
By your growing spirit, and
For the newness that sometimes comes from our word.
We have indeed been in the counsel of your summoning spirit,
And so we know some truth to speak.
But we are, as well, filled with rich
Imagination of our own.
And our imagination is sometimes
Matched and overmatched
By our cowardice,
By our readiness to please,
By our quest for well-being.
We are, on most days, a hard mix
Of true prophet and wayward voice,
A mix of your call to justice
And our hope for shalom.
Here we are, as we are,
Mixed but faithful,
Compromised but committed,
Anxious but devoted to you.
Use us and our gifts for
Your newness that pushes beyond
All that we can say or imagine.
We are grateful for your word fleshed among us.
And so we sing together the prayer that Jesus gave to us…
After Prayer: The Lord’s Prayer - 310
Children’s Moment
Anthem: If You Want Me To - Ginny Owens
Sermon
Colossians 1:24-2:5
1:24 I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church. 25 I became its minister according to God’s commission that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, 26 the mystery that has been hidden throughout the ages and generations but has now been revealed to his saints. 27 To them God chose to make known how great among the gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. 28 It is he whom we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone in all wisdom, so that we may present everyone mature in Christ. 29 For this I toil and strive with all the energy that he powerfully inspires within me.
2 For I want you to know how greatly I strive for you and for those in Laodicea and for all who have not seen me face to face. 2 I want their hearts to be encouraged and united in love, so that they may have all the riches of assured understanding and have the knowledge of God’s mystery, that is, Christ, 3 in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. 4 I am saying this so that no one may deceive you with plausible arguments. 5 For though I am absent in body, yet I am with you in spirit, and I rejoice to see your orderly conduct and the firmness of your faith in Christ.
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
For the first six years of our marriage, JD and I attended Church of Christ churches. If you know anything about the Church of Christ as a denomination, you’ll know that they typically worship without the use of instruments and they do not allow women to speak in worship.
It’s another story for another time, but if you can believe it, I am a pastor today because of my experience in the Church of Christ. And it’s not out of spite, but out of a good, nurturing experience at a little church in Austin, Texas.
So when JD and I lived in Austin, we attended this old church right off the campus of the University of Texas. It had been a historic Church of Christ, built over 100 years before we arrived, with lots of stories and winding staircases.
It had a beautiful sanctuary that slanted toward the chancel with high stained glass windows and majestic lighting. The sanctuary had a mixture of old and new. It had screens in the front and a brand new sound system, but the faded teal carpet hadn’t been updated since the 1970s.
The size of the room suggested that it was a very large church, able to seat 700 people, which it did in the 1960s, but on any given Sunday morning, there were about 70 people scattered about the space.
The first Sunday JD and I attended, we stepped into the dated sanctuary and heard the old a capella hymns and saw a lot of white hair, and thought, “I don’t think this is the place for us.”
But then something strange happened.
A woman got up to pray. A married couple presided over the table. Another woman served us communion.
JD leaned over to me at some point in the service and said, “Are we in the Twilight Zone?” We had never seen something like this before in a Church of Christ congregation.
And then another strange phenomenon occurred.
That day, it took us 30 minutes to exit the sanctuary because people kept coming up to introduce themselves to us.
We returned the next week and found ourselves at lunch with one of the elders and his spouse.
And then the next week, we were being handed a donut in a Sunday School class and being asked our thoughts on a scripture.
And then the next week, I was sipping a glass of wine at dinner at another elder’s house, whose wife regularly gathered young women of the church to listen to and pray for and feed them.
And then the next week, we were being asked to lead at the table.
And then the next week, we got a card in a mail from Gloria, a 70-year-old woman who spoke like she was a 1940s movie star and dressed like Diane Keaton, thanking us for the meditation we gave saying, and I quote, “Thank you for your thoughts at the table. They were fresh and not old-fashioned. See you this Sunday. Love, Gloria.” I still have this note.
And before we knew it, I was teaching a Sunday School class, and we had seen the inside of every elder’s house because they kept inviting us over for dinner, and we served communion regularly, and we got used to all the hugging (mostly). We were integrated into this church and truly felt like we belonged, and we didn’t even really try that hard.
You see, in the early 2000s, the church elders voted for an egalitarian step forward. They wanted to stop blocking women from leadership in worship. The church at the time had a few hundred members. But after the vote and implementation, the church lost a lot of members. Many people left in protest over the decision. Despite necessary social change, it is still a very unpopular move in the Church of Christ at large.
But I have to imagine that the eldership knew something like that might happen.
They did it anyway. They voted to include women in worship leadership. Of course, they didn’t allow for women to hold all the roles available to men. Their step forward was big but not enough for many.
But I admire their courage. The courage it takes to know you will likely lose a lot because of a decision, and to do it anyway. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s long past due. Because they knew they were stifling half the church, their own beloveds.
And though it took a minute to steady themselves as a congregation, what was devastating one day became the doorway to an even-more inclusive and thoughtful environment.
And years later, the ripple effects of that courageous and inclusive move washed over me and JD. Because the church had made the move to open their minds and their hearts, their arms naturally opened, too. Their doors opened. Their homes opened. Their vision of what was possible, of who was in, of who had something to give opened up to a horizon they were always stretching toward.
For example, the church had a very nice covered patio with picnic tables and benches next to a playground that parents often used after church. One summer, the church leaders noticed that it was being regularly trashed with beer bottles and food wrappers. They sometimes found homeless folks sleeping off the night before on the benches. Instead of calling the police or telling the people to never come back, they invited them to their long-loved Wednesday night meals, a tradition that had been in place longer than anyone could remember.
But new people necessarily bring change. And these homeless folks were rowdier than the older folks who attended the meals. They stunk. They disrupted the Wednesday night devotional with questions.
But instead of kicking them out or packing them a to-go box and sending them on their way, the church let their beloved Wednesday night fellowships change. They let themselves be changed by their guests.
The dinner organically became an outreach event. The congregants told their new friends to bring their friends and instead of listening to a sermon, they all would discuss a scripture together as a group. The church members started bringing home their new friends to shower and to get a home-cooked meal. They even helped one couple secure housing and a job.
You see, this church knew from a painful, formative experience that letting go of something they loved dearly, be it fellow church members who could not tolerate inclusion or letting go of the the way they liked things done, was not all loss. That they didn’t have to fear the death of what was. They were resurrection people, after all.
In this section of the letter to the Colossians, Paul waxes poetic about the suffering of Christ and how it correlates with his. He notes that spiritual maturity, the kind he wants for this church in Colossae, means coming to terms with the possibility of death. That is a vital part of the Christian story.
But he also notes another part of spiritual maturity—and that’s the recognition that Gentiles are part of the beloved people of God. They are not second-class citizens or people who have to put in the time—they are the riches of the glory of Jesus Christ.
Because rather than being newbies who had to learn what it means to be a follower of Christ, these Gentiles had something to teach the church in Colossae. They brought a rich and glorious understanding of God that would necessarily change the understanding the Colossians already held.
And perhaps what the writer of Colossians understands is that the church in Colossae is not owned by the original Colossians. It doesn’t matter who was there first or longest. The church is Christ’s alone. Christ is the treasure.
This reminder to the church that Christ and the church are given to the Gentiles too is not unique to Colossians. It’s something that has to be reiterated in multiple epistles. In the book of Acts, Peter has a dream where he is told that Gentiles get to be a part of the church, too, just as they are, without having to be circumcised or obey dietary laws, and he resists initially. He can’t believe it.
But he goes to a Gentile person’s house. And what he experiences is a hospitality and curiosity from a Gentile that he could not initially express himself.
And he is changed. The entire Christian mission is changed. We are Christians because of it, thanks be to God.
It is a feature of religion that people will feel possessive of their religion. Even territorial. They will do outrageous things out of a sense of being protective. They will set traps of destruction and death for themselves because they would rather die within their walls than open the gates. From the beginning of our Christian story, that has been true.
Yet the story of Christ, the story of the church, is to open the gates. Because this, all of this, it’s not any of ours, really. It’s not yours, it’s not mine. It’s not the matriarchs and patriarchs of the church. It’s not the founders. It’s no Barton Stone’s or Alexander Campbell’s. It’s not Martin Luther’s. It’s not the Pope’s. This church is Christ’s. And we’re the guests.
We say at the table that all are welcome because it’s not our table. It’s Christ’s table. This is not our church. It’s Christ’s church.
And so I wonder what that looks like. Because it’s easy to say. It’s simple to say with earnestness and conviction. But what does it look like in practice?
For the church in Austin, it meant saying yes, finally, to a group of people that had long been shut out, even if it meant the church lost a huge chunk of its members. Even if it meant the church closed because too many left.
It meant that they let go of a beloved ministry, a long-standing tradition that held memories and meaning, in order to be changed by their homeless neighbors. In order to give themselves away, one plate at a time, one yielding at a time, one Wednesday night at time.
And because of those difficult decisions, because of their baptismal way of life dying to themselves and rising in new life, they were transformed.
Their sense of welcome and integration and curiosity about what God was doing in each new person that entered their doors allowed life to spring up again. For little sprouts to push through the dirt. They nurtured these little sprouts through evening dinners in their home, through learning everyone’s name and story who entered the door, through embracing the way the church dynamically moved in a fresh pattern with each new person.
They matured in the faith; after all those years, they were still maturing. They were still growing. They were still evolving. Because they knew the church was not theirs. They were not the gatekeepers, they realized.
And what does it look like for us here at Azle Christian Church?
Where in church life do we feel possessive? Protective? Territorial?
What conversations about this church feel tender and tricky?
What are the parts of church life that we feel like we will die without? And how might we remind ourselves that death is not something we as Christians must fear?
Where can we still mature? Where are we still standing at the gate?
What riches of the glory of the mystery of Christ will we see when we step back from the gate? And let ourselves free fall into that mystery?
Amen.
After Sermon: Christ, You Often Sat at Dinner - LYRICS HERE
Sharing Our Resources
There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. You can give online on our website, on Venmo, or in the offering plate as the deacons come by during our final song.
Invitation
If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.
Benediction:
Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.
Our benediction for this series is from Colossians 3:
May the word of Christ live in us richly.
And whatever we do,
Whether in speech or in action,
May we do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus,
Giving thanks to God.
Amen.
Benediction: We Are Walking - 442
Doxology