This is a message on our expectations for one another. The other messages in this series are available here

Scripture Reading:
Matthew 5:13-16

City on a Hill

Message Files / Archive / WHF

Standing in the rain isn’t so bad if you can admire the blackberry vines. It’s not so bad if there’s a secret river beneath your feet. For the first five minutes, standing in the rain isn’t so bad. But after ten minutes, I could feel my perspective changing. I started to feel the weight of those heavy drops that tapped my head and shoulders. I started feel the rain soaking through the fabric of my jeans. I had spots of rain on my glasses. After fifteen minutes, something came into focus for me. I really, really wanted to get on the bus.

I knew I had to pace myself. I still had five minutes to wait. I took careful stock of my patience. The supply was dwindling. It’s the sort of thing you see in movies all the time. Someone gets locked inside a bank vault, or maybe they are in a submarine. In any case, there’s only a limited supply of oxygen. They have to breathe very carefully. Well, that was me. I only had a limited supply of patience, and I had to make it last.

I still had five minutes to go. Unless... the bus... was... late.

I felt a surge of panic at the thought. What if the bus was late? What if I had misread the bus schedule? On Saturday, this particular bus runs once every hour. If the bus wasn’t on time, I could be in for a long, long wait.

I tried to reassure myself: the bus will come. It will come. Buses are predictable creatures. Basically, they come when they’re supposed to come. To paraphrase Einstein, “Tri-Met doesn’t play dice with the bus schedule.” Buses have to be reliable. Otherwise, no one would use them. If buses appeared at random – like fairies in the moonlight – then they are no longer a serious option. Right? I mean, moonlit fairies are cool, but they are not a good way to get to work on time.

With rain dripping from the hem of my coat, I found comfort in this thought: The bus will do what I expect. It’s true. The bus came. It was more or less on time. The bus is useful to me because I know what to expect.

* * *

For the last several weeks, I have been using this time to talk about expectations. Expectations are nothing new. We use them all the time. Even if we don’t think about them very often, we routinely operate within a system of shared expectations.

Driving is a great example. In this country, we expect to drive on the right side of the road. This is not a matter of divine law. It’s not destiny. As you know, there are plenty of places in this world where people drive on the left side of the road. But in North America, we drive on the right side. If someone operates outside this shared expectations, the results are bound to be tragic.

Even when we go to the grocery store, we operate within a system of expectations. We expect to find a shopping cart near the front door. We expect to find a produce section and a dairy section and an aisle devoted to canned soup. At the grocery store, we expect to stand in line while we wait for a cashier. We expect that everything we purchase will go into bags. When we go into the grocery store, we know what to expect.

Unless, of course, we don’t.

When I was in Jerusalem, I kept seeing this local delicacy. It was a thin loop of bread studded with sesame seeds. It looked really good! After walking around the Old City for a whole day, I was starving. And I had my mouth all set for some of this bread. What could be more simple than buying bread? So, I entered a small market in East Jerusalem. Instantly, I was confronted by my own ignorance.

Should I grab the bread with my bare hands? Or would that be rude? All the other shoppers seemed to carry their items in a paper bag. I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t figure out where these bags were coming from. And there was no line at the cash register. It was simply a crowd of people – and they were all waving their paper bags at the shopkeeper. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Eventually, I had to admit defeat. I left empty-handed.

It made me realize, there are expectations... even when you least expect it.

Whether you go to Beaverton or Bethlehem, there’s bound to be a system of expectations. Whether you go to a grocery store, or a library or a church, there’s bound to be a system of expectations.

What do people in churches expect from one another?

Last week, I decided to do a little research. I went to church web sites are read whatever they had to say about “expectations.” These churches were all over the map – Illinois, Mississippi, California – even Australia. They were Calvinist and Unitarian and Baptist. So, it was a pretty good cross section.

As you might assume, different churches have different expectations.

The good people at Broadview Baptist Church expect to see one another in church every Sunday. And they are serious. If you’re gone for three weeks in a row, you are no longer a member in good standing. After three weeks away, you become a “Delinquent Member.” Do you know what happens to delinquent members? They get a call from the Telephone Ministry. That’s what happens at Broadview Baptist.

Meanwhile, the Unitarian Universalist Church of Fort Myers is a little more relaxed. After saying they expect people to attend services, they add this parenthetical clause: “(No, not every week. Hardly anyone does that. Just regularly.)” So, you know, if you come regularly on Christmas and Easter, that’s probably good enough.

Actually, there were a lot of Unitarian churches in my search results. I couldn’t figure it out. Unitarians are renown for their flexibility in all things. They wield the slightly flaming sword of moderation. Remember, these are the people who make it clear: “Hey, no one expects you to come every Sunday. We’re not fanatics or anything.” So why are these people publishing a list of expectations? They barely have any expectations! Why make a list?

Now, those folks over at Broadview Baptist are a different story! Over there, the Telephone Ministry hangs like the sword of Damocles over delinquent members. In a church like Broadview Baptist, it’s no surprise that all the expectations are lined up like terra cotta warriors outside the emperor’s tomb. These people have standards.

Speaking of lines, here’s one I found in Christianity Today: “The church should be less like a cruise ship and more like a battleship.” This is from an article on having expectations. Isn’t that a great line? It gets even better if you hear the whole thing. “‘The church should be less like a cruise ship and more like a battleship,’ says Ken Sande of Peacemaker Ministries.”

If you want the church to look like a battleship, then it makes sense to spell out every expectation. If you are sailing off to war, then it makes sense to talk about duty and responsibility and chain of command. Right?

* * *

Well, this is when I have to remind myself, there are expectations... even when you least expect it. If you expect tolerance, that is your expectation. If you expect trust and service to others, then these are your expectations.

You don’t have to be rigid to have expectations.

Over at the Reformed Church of Box Hill, their motto is, "By Faith Alone, By Grace Alone, By Scripture Alone, By Christ Alone" It sounds to me like they get together to be alone. In any case, I found two different lists on their web site. They have a list of expectations, and they have a list of requirements. I found this distinction very helpful. Because you and I are leery of requirements. For us, the spiritual life has very little to do with conformity to requirements. It’s not about that.

But expectations are something different. We all have expectations.

Even if we haven’t spelled them out, we have expectations of one another. We already do. We already have a system. For the most part, it works well for us. I think we can make it even better.

And here’s why I think we should.

We are the light of the world. We are a city on a hill. Our life together is a sign of God’s presence. The love we share testifies to God’s love. Jesus said, “By this all people will know you are my disciples, if you love one another.” The better we relate to one another, the more of a gift we become. We are the light of the world.

That idea inspires me. Let’s do some civil engineering. As a city on a hill, we have some decisions to make about how the busses run, how the children are nourished, how the stranger is made welcome.

What do we want to do together? Like the Quakers who first settled in Pennsylvania, our life together is a Holy Experiment. Holding to the values we share, we get to build a system that works.

As a city on a hill, what can we expect? How do we make our city even better for those of us who live here? And how can we throw wide the gates to our city, and welcome all those who seek shelter?