When Landmarks Fall, They Fall Hard

As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise. Galatians 3:26-29 

A landmark has fallen and it has fallen hard. The big oak that stood out in the yard helped visitors and others know exactly where the church is when traveling down the Trail. All you needed to say was, “Follow the Trail down past the white farm house with the horses and sheep, and then on the left look for the big oak tree. It stood there like the tree of Gondor for 250 plus years when on Tuesday evening the old oak came down thanks to a powerful micro cell or a minor freak tornado. The tree ripped in two pieces creating an amazing wooded play area that made you feel like you climbing through forest of Endor. Thankfully no Ewoks were harmed. Wednesday, the clean up crew arrived and they are began the process of clearing out the tree.

For an estimated 250 plus years, 25 plus years older than Bruington Baptist Church, this tree has stood where now a stump remains. For many in this church, this tree holds a special place in their heart, it is synonymous with the church, serving as landmark for hundreds of years; and it is special because of the years many families have watched their children play underneath, enjoyed picnics, conversations, the raking of leaves, the falling of acorns and the meeting of squirrels. This tree represented the church for so many years and for so many reasons. I, even, once alluded to the tree as a symbol of the church's strength and deep roots in King and Queen County. Now, I allude to the tree as it represents Bruington Baptist Church in 2013.

It's not an allusion of death, it is an allusion of change and one of openness. All that remains of this tree is a three-four foot stump and only memories; yet out of that stump something beautiful will be created, something that will honor the memories of what was and celebrate the future that is. Many people believe the old church is dying, and in many ways, how we understood church to be is indeed changing, but this tree shows that while we may be cut to our roots, we can still be used for something new, something beautiful, just because we are up in age or low in number, does not mean God cannot still use us.

It is true this is a sermon in which someone will respond, "It's a tree. You really think too much. You need a vacation or a drink or both." And yes, it was just a tree but for some within this congregation it is more than tree. To them it is a tree that has withstood the pressures and pains of the earth and endured the hardships of a revolutionary war, a civil wars and a great depression, yet it remained, only to be taken down by a freak and random act of nature (something so true of life). To so this tree is a close part of their life and our church, and without something they identified with for so long, it can be painful to move on. To them, it is a tree that feels very much like the Giving Tree.

Believe me, I understand an attachment to strange things. My dad once threw away several of my old GI Joes and I rushed to the dumpster where he tossed and climbed and took them back. Among them were the very first GI Joe I received for my third birthday or Christmas or something and the other was the very last Christmas present my Grandmother gave me before she died. These toys hang in my son's playroom because they are more than just toys, they are memories. But like the tree outside, these toys have endured hard battles and floods and vicious, destructive play that an 8 year old can cause, so they no longer look as they once did out of the box; but the memories remain and now they will be used in a different way than they once were.

The question was asked, "What will Bruington look like without it's landmark?"

The truth is we'll look different. I believe we will look as we truly are, a church that has a past to cherish and a future to challenge. A church whose community scars have been hidden from view and will now be visible. The pain of our own lives we thought was once something to keep hidden or in secret will be what draws others in, a sense of belonging to a group of people who struggle and experience the pain of life as we do. We will look different, we will not look as we did yesterday, but we will still be here. We will still be here because I believe there is still work left to be done in this place. I still believe we have a mission, a role to play in the kingdom of heaven, and I believe, with all my heart, we are not through being used.

As long as there are still teenagers and children, parents, adults (young and old) looking for a place where they know that there are no longer Virginians and Texans, no "Come Heres", no "Born Heres" no longer Gwathmeys and Ryalnds and Martins and Eades, or Greenwoods and Browders, or Bevans and Thompsons and Bagbys, or Schools and Wyatts, or Poores and Langfords, or Croxtons and Whartons, or Evans and Kendricks or Randalls and Porters, or Joneses and Princes, or Elliots and Locketts, or Halls and Shipes, or Walkers and Atkinsons and Stephens, or Mastins and Wrights, and anyone else who once, still, or will call this place home, we, all of us (as Paul writes in Galatians) are one in Christ, and we are none of us alone. We do indeed still have a purpose.

As long as there are people who are looking for a community of people who will love them and their idiosyncrasies, their hypocrisies, and love them in times of great joy and great sorrow, we still have a purpose. As long as there are people looking for a place where they can break open their alabaster jars as the woman did in the house of the Pharisee, and fall to their knees, cry their tears of sorrow and forgiveness, we still have a purpose. As long as there are those who have been regulated to the edges of society because of what something we don't like about them, because they do not fit our understanding of faith or understanding of life, or do not look and talk as we believe others should look and talk; as long as there are those on the margins of life being forced to live in the slums and disregarded like the young man who lived among the graves in Luke; as long as there are those who seek to be loved, healed, and belong, we, Bruington Baptist Church community, will always have a purpose. That purpose will always be to share the love of Christ by bearing with one another in love, actively helping those in need, and attentively listening to their fears, struggles, hopes, and dreams.

As we were gathered outside inspecting the damage, my son, Connor, ran over wearing his cape. He surveyed the damage, the fallen trees, and flexing his muscles said, "Don't worry! I can fix this." While he has yet to learn that not everything can be fixed, he has mastered the belief and faith that can move a mountain; and he reminds me that there is still work to be done because there are children in need of a place where they can learn to have the faith that can mend a broken tree. A place to belong.

A couple of Wednesdays ago, we explored the impact of the old hymn, “Amazing Grace” and how that hymn whether because of the tune or the lyrics, has the ability to touch Christian and non-Christian alike. We explored the history behind the tune and the man behind the music. We discovered that the U.S. Library of Congress has a collection of 3,000 versions of and songs inspired by “Amazing Grace.” We discovered that tune, like many negro spirituals sung by slaves, were built of the pentatonic scale, the five black keys of the piano. They didn't come to America knowing the “do re mi fa so la ti do” scale, they only had those five notes and they built the power and pathos of the negro spiritual on five notes. Many of the most powerful and beautiful hymns we sing today were written only using five notes.

We discovered the possibility that John Newton wrote the lyrics with the tune of an old negro spiritual because of his years walking back and forth, in and out of the bowels of his ship as a slave trader. The possibility that he heard this tune hummed as slaves were chained to the walls of the ship, and when he thought of the grace that spared him, he remembered that tune. Out of darkness, destruction, pain, evil, and the worse of humanity, came a hymn that within it's tune and lyrics, has the ability to draw in both the Christian and the non-Christian. The hymn, written 234 years ago, when played, gives a sense of meaning and belonging to everyone because everyone knows what it's like to never, truly, feel like they belong.

On a much similar scale, perhaps a smaller one, our church has that same ability. Something about this place has the ability to draw in others who are looking for a place to belong and a people to love them, and know about a God who so loved them. The old tree may have fallen and remnants of a stump remain, just as remnants of the original foundation lay under the sanctuary, and we are still here and we will still be here because we are more than a tree. We are a Christian community whose roots dig deep into the solid ground of Christ, and whose branches are open wide welcoming those who long to belong to a community of unconditional love.

What will Bruington Baptist Church look like now without it's tree? Everything we were and everything we are being called to be.