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Chapel service on November 12, 2017
Homily by Natalie Vaughn
1. This is a stewardship sermon.
2. I attended 13 different schools between 1st grade and
my senior semester. Two years I moved 3
times, typically I hopped between grades to my new location. Sometime between 1st grade beginning and 2nd
grade ending my parents divorced and my mom remarried an abusive jerk. He couldn't decide if he wanted to live in
Texas or Alaska so we moved back and forth three times. The summers we "lived" in Alaska, I
would come home to Texas to get a recharge on my accent and visit my dad and
grandmother. I never had a place to call
home.
Now, I should say that one thing that was consistent,
despite the divorce, was I was brought up in a strict church, home, and
school. Deacons were men. SS teachers were women. In school we memorized passages of scripture,
boys kept their hair shorter than their ears, girls wore skirts passed their
knees, boys wore button down shirts and ties, and NO one ever wore denim. It made dressing up for costumes during
homecoming week a little hard. I mean, how are you going to dress up for the
70’s if you can’t wear denim?
Because of all the moving, I never was able to
unpack. I'm not talking about the boxes,
I'm talking about me. I knew I took the
strictness of my school as hog-wash and NOT dependent for salvation. I began compartmentalizing aspects of my life
and I never brought them out. Things
were to scary.
When I transferred to Texas, to be clearer, I mean UT...I
had no idea what was in store for me. I
visited other churches in Austin but never felt they were right for me. Later I found First Baptist and immediately
warning signs were going off...DANGER DANGER
1. First didn't have Sunday night service. 2. Women didn't wear dresses
at First as a rule. 3. The preacher wasn't telling us how to believe. And 4.
(And these are what I found from a distance mind you....) 4. First had women
deacons.
But the warning signs also were read as potentially huge
bonuses! 1. First didn't have Sunday
night service. 2. Women didn't wear dresses at First as a rule. 3. The preacher
wasn't telling us how to believe. And 4. (And these are what I found from a
distance mind you....) 4. First had women deacons.
Y'all I really wrestled with all of these. My faith was patchworked together with black
and white yarn that could spot something outside of what I was told to believe
a mile away. But I had real doubts about
my black and white faith. I joined First
resolved that I would take each Sunday one at a time.
I knew I was a Christian but everything else would soon
come into question.
When I transferred to Texas it was a break between my mom
and I. Not in a negative sense. It was just when I became an adult and took
complete ownership of myself and went out on my own. Anyway, she and my stepdad had gotten a
divorce. And I became aware that my life was my own to create. I realized that I didn't have to move again
if I didn't want to.
But I was scared to death about what I would find in the
boxes of my faith. First provided me a
safe spot to peer into scary boxes and take a look at what I saw. No one knew what I was wrestling with. But, because I saw safety in asking questions
I felt this was a safe place to explore.
Not really knowing what I would find or how I would piece my faith back
together again.
First provided me a place to call home. Where I could open the boxes of my faith of
my parents, grandparents, and other family members and say:
YES! Salvation through Christ I'll keep that and place it
right over here on the coffee table.
NO! Women being required to wear dress to enter church?
I'll kick that to the curb.
The mission of the church is to provide a home for
people. A place where they can have the
same experience I had at First. A place
where we can all peer into the old ratty suitcases we've been carrying around
and decide if we want to keep them. A
place where people are made to feel welcome.
Like welcome personally, after they've moved in, welcome while they're
going through their stuff, and maybe others who have found their home here are
like Mary Helen Wheelock who likes to go to 2nd hand stores. Maybe we make some room for people who are
trying articles of another person's faith, as their own.
At First we strive to create a home for people. A home where even though I don't like
everything you like. Or believe
everything you believe. We still make a home for each other. Imagine 2 middle aged women, who have made
their own homes deciding to move in together...that's the position Gay and I
found ourselves in. 2 of
everything. 2 sets of bowls, 2 sets of
towels, 2 couches, 2 this and 2 that. 2
VERY different decorating styles. We
worked together on joining our homes and that meant I had to give and she had
to give. Gay loves birds. And for some reason, I don't know how, she
was in the possession of a bird clock.
It's this god-awful clock that chirps a birds' call on the top of each
hour. She LOVED that clock. And I HATED THAT CLOCK. Well, we move in together. The clock, I can see brings her great
joy. To this day, she can do the
"6:00 bird" (or any others) on demand. Well, years later we're doing a complete
flooring redo and she leaves the house for a week and leaves me in charge of
keeping everything safe. Well, wouldn't
you know it but the FIRST NIGHT, the guys approach me, hat literally in hand,
and tell me they've broken the bird clock.
I'm like, listen, I don't care what you do, you had better fix that
clock before my wife gets home on Friday.
Perhaps a sane person would have said YES this is it. But I saw the clock gave her great joy. It somehow hurt me for her not to have
something I hated, yet she loved. The
point of the story is yes, we make a home together at first, and No, we may not
love everything about each other, but we commune with each other all the same.
So, here's the rub.
First is my home. I told you this
was a stewardship homily, here it comes. I give to First because it provided me
a place to examine my faith. In a scary
time. It allowed me to unpack my things
and reexamine my entire life.
I give to First because I believe there needs to be a
safe place where people can unpack their stuff.
A place where they can examine the boxes they've been carrying around.
I give to First because I want to be in communion with
each other when times are good. And when
times are bad. It has given me much
solace this week to know that although there is much evil in the world, we have
each other.
I give to First because I believe our ministers have a
heart to help others.
I give to First because a Ministry like this needs a
place. And Places have to pay a light
bill.
I give to First because our church stands up to the world
and says, "YES, it is possible. We
can try to make an inclusive home for everyone." And that's a light bill
I’m happy to pay on. Would you help me
with the light bill too?
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