As we round into the final Sunday and week of Lent, we are coming to our last Soup+Bread study session – “Why Serve?”

We have been asking the “why” questions, beginning with the broad issue of “Why Faith?”. As we have gone along we have narrowed down the topics from Faith, to Christianity, to the Word, to Worship. Along the way we have been building a foundation for understanding why we do this thing called “Church” together. 

Now as we ask the question, “Why Serve?”, we are trying to get at what this foundation means for us in terms of how we ought to live our lives. But to get the answer to that question, you will have to come to the study on Sunday!

However, as a tangent to the question of “Why Serve?”, I will admit that I have often been interested by the monastic life. I cannot say that I would have ever really considered becoming a monk, but the idea of living in a community whose life together is gathered around a singular purpose and governed by ritual, rhythms and patterns has a certain appeal. In some ways I got a parallel taste of that life in my five summers of working at various bible camps. 

For quite a while now, one of my favourite TV shows has been Call the Midwife. It is a British drama set in the 1950s and ‘60s following a group of Anglican nuns and National Health Service (NHS) nurses/midwives serving the fictional community of Poplar in London’s East End. Of all the depictions of Christianity on TV, Call the Midwife has to be one of the best. 

The nuns and nurses live together in Nonnatus House, and from there they serve the community around them. Primarily they serve as midwives during the Baby Boom of the post-war era, helping women to safely give birth to the many children born during this time. Throughout the show, they cover several of the various health crises that marked the time, including the Thalidomide crisis and the Polio epidemic.

Interwoven with stories of their personal lives and those of particular characters in the community, the nuns and nurses live lives of service. The nuns punctuate their busy days of births, pre- and postnatal clinics and general medicine with daily prayer – morning, noon, evening and night. 

Several poignant moments of the show have shown the nuns praying the prayers of Vespers (evening) and Compline (night): “Into your hands I commend my spirit” with moments of Birth, Life and Death that go along with the practice of midwifery and medicine. 

I encourage you to check the show out. But the way Christianity is portrayed is so different from what is usual for Hollywood dramas. There are no Bible-quoting villains, neither are there heroes sitting in a church praying to an unknown God in a moment of desperation. God and the Church aren’t some foil for misguided virtue or judgmentalism. Faith, as a part of life, informs the care that the nuns offer to the community around them. God isn’t some outside force to be appealed to in a moment when all hope is lost; instead, God is a part of every moment of life. When the skills of midwifery and nursing fail to bring a new child into the world safely or to extend the life of someone sick, there are traditional prayers that remind the nuns, the people of Poplar and us that, in Life and in Death, God is there. 

Service, Caring and Empathy are the main themes of the show. And while not all of us can live such lives of service, the show provides a template for what it looks like to be bound by something larger than ourselves that calls us into the world as people of faith. As we ask the question, “Why Serve?”, an important place to begin answering that question is to explore all the “why” questions we have explored already, to know why Faith is important to us and how to take that Faith is the foundation holding our feet to the ground and turn it into a way of life. 

Pastor Erik+

Back when I was still going to seminary (pastor school), I found myself in church on a Sunday contemplating, “Why are we all here, doing this?” When I stepped back, I really wanted to know why all the people who were there on Sunday had come to sing, pray, read the Bible and receive the bread and wine together. Why did they do this, instead of all the other possible things that they could do on a Sunday morning?

Our theme of asking ‘Why?” continues this week. 

So far our Lenten journey has taken us through “Why Faith?”, “Why Christianity?”, and “Why the Bible?”.

Now we ask,“Why Worship?”.

As we have unpacked these “why” questions in our Lenten study, we have examined why we have faith in something rather than in nothing. We looked at how the life, death and resurrection of Jesus offer a compelling experiment of God’s mercy and grace. We have seen the ways that Christ the Word is witnessed to in the pages of Scripture. 

On this fourth week we start to put some of these pieces together as we contemplate why we worship. 

As we have already explored, there are a whole lot of complicated reasons that bring us to church, but once we are here it isn’t always obvious to ask why we are doing this rather than that. Instead, we often default to “I like that rather than this” and congregations can fall into the dread worship wars. Strong lines of preference are drawn over music styles, worship times, service length, the frequency of communion and a host of other things that can be easy to fight about. 

But they aren’t matters of “why.” Why do we come together? Why do we sing and pray and hear the Bible together? Why is that stuff important to do together in a church building rather than alone or in some other place?

And if we are honest with ourselves and each other, a lot of people are asking why it is important to take the time every week to show up at all – and they are coming to the conclusion that it isn’t important. A big part of that might be because we don’t often talk about the “why” of worship, but operate with a system that says, “It just IS important and you should all know why!”

Back on that Sunday in seminary, I wanted to know why we were all sitting in the pews for this strange worship of which we were a part. People don’t generally sing, pray and read the Bible with other folks anywhere else in their world, did they? So why did we do it here?

I have been thinking about that question ever since. While I know that there are at least as many reasons as there are people in the pews, I think it has something to do with knowing that we simply cannot do faith alone. We cannot believe it, practice it, hear it, teach it, and pass it on alone. And so God brings us together, even if is strange. Especially because it is strange and we don’t do the stuff we do in worship just about anywhere else in our lives. 

If you want to really unpack this question, you will have to join us for Lenten study this week. But suffice it to say, after 15 years serving in parish ministry, I am starting to see that, despite all the weird things that we do as a part of worship, that God is up to even more incredible things with us. And that coming together for worship is one of the few ways we can begin to see and imagine what God is doing with us. 

This is the fourth Lenten season of the Pandemic. It was during Lent that our first lockdowns began. Many people of faith remarked during that time that Lent never really ended in 2020. I think that remains true in 2023. 

Lent is a season for simplicity and paring back, for repentance and renewal. All the practices that make up Lent, giving things up or taking things on, are meant to be ways to disrupt our routines lived on autopilot, and make room for us to remember and reconsider our relationship with God and our call to discipleship 

One of the fundamental questions of Lent is “why?” Not only is this a question of Lent but a question of our time. 

As a new pastor in 2009 freshly out of seminary, I quickly realized that the “why” of church was often something we assumed but didn’t discuss. I realized that a big part of my role was going to be teaching people again (or maybe for the first time) why church matters. Life-long members, actively engaged folks, casual attenders and fringe members all the way to seekers and newcomers. It seemed that for many of the people I was serving then that it was assumed that we all knew why we should be at church, and that talking about it too much was a risky thing. 

I recall meeting with one family for baptism; the parents of the newborn were only a little older than I was. Grandma and Grandpa, who were strong active members of the congregation were insisting on the baptism, while the parents were hesitant. The mother said to me, “I haven’t been to church much lately. I stopped coming more because whenever I asked questions, I was told to stop questioning everything.”

I let that mother ask me any question she wanted about church, faith, the Bible and God. 

Asking questions, and specifically asking “Why?” is not only okay, it is important. A faith that cannot stand up to our questions is not truly faith at all but something more like a cult. A rich, deep and well-practiced faith is one where questions are essential, exploring “Why?” is the point. The church is one of the very few places in our world that has the capacity to address faith and the “why’s” of life, even when asked about the deepest parts of ourselves, our world and of God. 

This week as we start our Lenten study called “Why Church?”, we will take the time to lay out our questions and have conversations that have to do with anything we might be wondering, but that ultimately get to the heart of the matter. 

Asking “Why?” and taking the time to articulate “why” is so very important as we enter the Lenten wilderness and as we navigate the wildernesses of pandemic, declines, social change and change in our community and congregation. I invite you into this conversation and disciple this Lent. 

Let’s explore the questions together.