Why I Am A Disciple

Isaiah 43:16-21
Sunday, January 7, 2007

Today I will share a bit of my story—how I became a member of the Disciples of Christ, and why I continue to be a Disciple. I come from a long line of religious-minded people. They were ministers, farmers and educators. They reflect many lines of religion in America. They came to America from England, Ireland, Germany and Sweden between 1635 and 1852. They include religious enthusiasts and reformers, radicals, conservatives, liberals and moderates. How I became a Disciple is part of this story.

My earliest American Hull ancestor was the Reverend Joseph Hull. He was a 17th century Oxford-educated minister of the Church of England. Attempting to find middle ground between the established church and the Puritans, Joseph ran afoul of both. He led a colony to New England where he lived for a decade (1635-1645). Tired of conflict with the Massachusetts Bay Puritans, Joseph returned to England where he again served in the Church of England. Near the end of his life Joseph returned to Maine where he died in 1665. Some of his grandchildren married Quakers and settled in Rhode Island. Here is a brief list of religious highlights In subsequent generations:

In 1950 my parents married in the First Baptist Church of Torrance, CA. My father was the town's superintendent of schools. My grandfather Hull presided over the ceremony. In my grandfather Hull, the ancestral fundamentalism had dissolved into theologically progressive and socially conservative Christianity. Grandfather Angus Hull believed alcohol was evil, but he thought Jesus intended us to reform society in order to improve conditions for the poor and underprivileged. Uncle Angus Hull Jr literally marched with Martin. But the American Baptist church in my home town was not progressive. It preached end times fundamentalism. If you die tonight do you know where you will end up? Neither of my parents could stand it. And so they joined the Disciples of Christ congregation in town under the interim ministry of Rev Walker. I was two and have been a Disciple ever since. My grandfather said that if he had not been an American Baptist he would have been a Disciple.

Shortly after my parents joined the Torrance church Rev. Milton Sipple arrived from Iowa to serve the church for 20 years. All of 5' 3" he stood on a box behind the pulpit and preached in an academic hood. He baptized me at the age of 11. He was not a warm man and I cannot say that he was a role model for me. However, he did preach a moderate brand of Christianity.
During the course of my life I have sampled other forms of being Christian. I was re-baptized in the ocean during what I call the fundamentalist phase of my life. On Sundays I continued to attend the Disciples of Christ congregation I was raised in.

I then studied at a conservative Wesleyan College (where many of the religion faculty were graduates of Asbury Seminary), at an evangelical seminary (where the largest group were conservative Presbyterians), and at a liberal United Methodist seminary. During the course of my education I journeyed away from and back to my moderate and liberal roots. While I have studied and worshipped with many different traditions, I have always been a Disciple. The Disciples are the place I call my spiritual home.

Today's passage from Isaiah has been one of my favorites since I first studied it in college. Despite its reference to Egyptian warriors in the sea—or perhaps because of the referece—it is a passage that fires the imagination. The poet prophet employs a trick. He (or she—my graduate school professor Wm Brownlee thought the writer was a woman) reminds the listener of the glorious past: remember the Exodus when God rescued us!

And then the prophet tells the same listeners to forget the past. How can we forget it now that the poet has reminded us so eloquently? And why should the we forget? Because God is poised to do a new and even better thing. Mired in Babylonian exile, far from their Judean home, the poet-prophet describes the desert transformed—no longer uninhabitable. God will make it a refuge in order to lead the people home. They will declare God's praise.

And because of its beauty this passage has been retained in our sacred text for 2500 years and is used again to remind us of the past while pointing to the future. For such a time as this. Beargrass Christian Church has a long and glorious heritage. Founded in 1784—before Kentucky was a state—our spiritual ancestors were Baptist for 45 years. It was a small frontier country church. We were served by pastors who shepherded several congregations. William Kellar of Harrods Creek Baptist, preached here for many years. Until he fought a bear in 1817. He killed the bear but later died from his wounds. His protégé Benjamin Allen took over leadership. In the 1820s when Alexander Campbell began to preach reform to the Regular Baptists, Ben Allen took up the cause. Ben preached at Harrods Creek and Beargrass and elsewhere. In 1829 Ben started another congregation at Goose Creek. By 1831 Ben and his congregations were kicked out of the Baptist association for their Campbellite views. By 1842, five years after Ben's death, Beargrass and Goose Creek united. They called themselves Beargrass Church of Christ—and many other things—over the next few years. But they had already been Disciples for more than a decade. These stories are our Exodus, our flight from Egypt. Remember the glory of God. And then we arrived on this corner 90 years ago. And the congregation grew. And prospered. And changed. Today we are in our third place of worship on this corner. Remember our glorious past? Forget it—God is about to do a new thing. And what is that new thing? Where will God lead us?

We are being led to spread the Good News of God's love. Jesus reminded us of that our obligation is to love God: Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God. But Jesus also lifted up the ancient words of Leviticus: Love your neighbor as yourself.

What I love about the Disciples in general—and what I love about Beargrass in particular—is our faithfulness to Jesus' call. Our journey in faith to live out the call to love God and neighbor. What keeps me a Disciple is that we have freedom to live out this call as we see fit.

For me, the symbolism of unity that we have as we gather at the table is a metaphor for the work we are called to do. The communion table means different things to disciples. Some believe the bread and wine are transformed into body and blood. Some think it's only a remembrance of Jesus sacrifice. Others are put off by what they perceive as an overemphasis on body and blood. But we come together to remember Jesus, to worship God, to celebrate with each other and to love our neighbor.

And that metaphor of the table leads us into the world to spread the love of God. To remember Jesus' call to love. We are called to love our neighbor. To bring about transformation. To make this world—and the next—a better place.

Our table ministry has led us to have multiple types of worship at Beargrass. Some of us love the pipe organ and don't want to worship without it. Others love the band and upbeat songs and can't imagine giving it up. Some of us want to worship in the cozy chapel. Others love the vibrancy of a large sanctuary. The fact that we all have different tastes, and theologies, is a sign of our ministry. We are able to reach out to many ways of being Christian. Not all—there are forms of Christianity and ways of living out faith that are not at home in our midst. We value women in ministry and women at the table and women as board chairs and we don't insist on literal interpretation of Genesis. For some, those are deal breakers. For most of us, they are essential to who we are. They help define our ministry of justice and outreach. They help us know how big our neighborhood is. Love your neighbor—for Disciples it is God's way.