One More Thing with Pastor Tim Burchill 01.20.2026

What I wanted to say

but ran out of time this Sunday

Here is the benediction I was going to use before discovering the excellent MLK Jr. video.  So much of the New Testament wasn’t written from a modern individualist perspective.  In fact, most of it was written to women and men in community—village, synagogue, and church.  Below is one last way to describe the different views of God that we encounter in Jesus’ parable of the Talents.  I hope it proves insightful!

How about we try a parable of our own to send you forth?

        There was a church that had everything it needed to do remarkable good. It had a beautiful building in the center of town, paid for by the sacrifices of generations. It had a healthy endowment—“for the future,” as they liked to say.
It had wise leaders, solid theology, and a reputation for being dependable.

And it had a defining question that guided every decision: “What if this doesn’t work?”

        So when new families stopped coming, they didn’t ask how to reach them—they asked how long they could last. When the neighborhood changed, they didn’t ask who their neighbors were becoming—they asked how to protect what they had.

       When someone suggested a new ministry, the first response was “What’s the downside?”

Over time, the church made responsible choices; Safe choices.

• They updated the security system.
•  They tightened the budget.
• They preserved the building

       Eventually, they realized something strange had happened. They had built a perfect vault. Everything entrusted to them was still there—the faith, the money, the traditions, the property. Nothing had been lost. But almost nothing was alive.

The church simply became very good at not risking anything.

There was another church that also had much entrusted to it.

It wasn’t flashy, but it was stable.

The building was sound.
The people were faithful.
The budget was careful.

And for a long time, they asked the same question many churches ask: “How do we make sure we’re still here in ten years?”

But at some point—quietly, without a big vote or a dramatic moment—the question changed. Someone asked: “What did God give us this place for?”

• Not how to protect it.
• Not how to preserve it.
• But why it existed at all.

So they began small. They opened their building during the week—not for programs they controlled, but for needs they didn’t. They partnered with people who didn’t belong to their church and might never join. They spent money they couldn’t immediately replace. They tried ministries that didn’t always work. Some weeks felt uncomfortable. Some ideas failed. But something else happened.The church stopped talking primarily about survival. It started talking about  faithfulness.

They didn’t grow quickly. They didn’t get everything right. But people began to say things like:

• “This place feels alive.”
• “They seem to care about more than themselves.”
• “They’re not afraid of us.”

The church hadn’t abandoned prudence. They had simply decided that trust would set the priorities. And over time, joy crept in—not because everything succeeded, but because they discovered they were participating in something larger than themselves. They had left the vault open.

          One of the reasons I love serving this congregation is that we are so much like church number two.  Our trust in God sets our priorities and our priorities are to love God, follow Jesus and make the burdens of our neighbors lighter.  We are all about the amazing grace of our God.  We want to get it, we hunger to grow in it, and we are committed to giving it away—to sharing it with others in Jesus’ name.  To be part of a church like that is blessing enough for you this week.  You calling is to share that blessing in the Spirit it was shared with you.  Amen.