[Note this was a sermon that never got preached because recovery from brain surgery got in the way]

Theo's Place

[Image Credit: Frank A. Mills]

[Introduction Story]

“Theo’s.” I have always thought that would be a great name for a church, just Theo’s Place, after all, as a suffix “theo” means “god.”

Years ago, I went through a divorce, and although a minister I felt like the church had abandoned me, perhaps even God.

One day, I am not sure why, maybe it was the laughter coming thorough the open door. Whatever the reason, I walked into my neighborhood bar that evening.

For the sake of the story, we’ll call it “Mary’s.”

It was just after opening hours, the laughter was coming from the only occupied table, a round table in the back. Hesitating at the door, those at the table turned toward me. One jumped up, inviting me to join them, while another pulled up another chair for me.

That was my introduction to Mary ‘s.

Mary’s was a neighborhood Cheer’s sort of place, where everyone knew your name. It was place where people looked out for each other. If I didn’t at least stop by to say “Hi,” before a week was up some one was knocking at my door, or if they saw me in the neighborhood, making sure I was okay.

The proprietor, Mary, hovered over us regulars and the not so regular like a mother hen broods over her chicks. If we were hungry, she fed us. If we were need of a dollar, it was there. Around those tables we discussed the affairs of the world, and offered up a practical sort of theology.

One evening, I just happened to mention that I liked Oreo Cookies. The next evening there were Oreo Cookies, enough for everyone. We sat at tables and along the bar, breaking cookies and sipping our drinks—

I once again began to realize the love of God, although at the time I didn't recognize it as such.

It wasn’t an epiphany, but the beginning of a process. Looking back now, I can say that perhaps in the breaking of Oreo Cookies, I in some mystical way experienced God. Although not the bread and the wine of the Eucharist, it was the Eucharist—God’s Grace broke through in an Oreo Cookie.

Mary ‘s became my church. Like that early group of believers in Acts who broke bread and drank together, while looking out for each other.

[Sermon]

A long story, but I hope an illustrative one—

What if the local church became Theo’s Place?

A place where we were allowed to brew our own faith?

I am not suggesting that the church become a brewpub. Nor am I suggesting that ________ is not such a Church, but I do believe we can always become more than we are.

If we think about Mary’s there is much to consider, some obvious, some perhaps less. First Presbyterian is certainly a welcoming and caring place.

But to dig a bit deeper in how such a church would look we explore two words, “brew” and “theology:"

[Brew]

“Brew” comes from the Old English word, a word with Germanic roots.

We usually think of “brew” in terms of beer, that is, using fermentation – brewing – to produce a beverage. “Fermentation is a good word to apply to the church. Do we ferment faith? We would probably say, “Yes.” But what would we say if someone asked us “How”?

But, ‘brew,” as we know can also refer to brewing discontent. A growing faith is a discontented faith. A faith that seeks to better serve God. Did not the Jesus constantly challenge the faith of both the establishment and his disciples? How do we as a church brew a discontented faith? Are we a place where we feel free to debate our faith – even argue with God -- without reproach?

“Boil,” “bubble,” “ferment,” and “effervesce.” That’s the meaning of the German root. And just like the pot boiling over on the stove this can be a messy activity. Let’s face it brewing our own faith to live by can be messy, that is if we as a church are willing to move out of our comfort zone and become a place where faith if brewed and messy, rather than a place where faith is put into a neat little can that states, “I am it.”

Interestingly, the Germanic root for “brew” also gives us “brood.” Do we encourage “brooding” over faith?

What would that look like? Related to the Germanic root, are the words embroil, in the sense of a deep fermenting involvement. Collectively the church needs to a place where messy, deep fermenting of our individual faith is allowed to take place. And we need to be passionate about it. In fact, fervor is another word from the root.

And lastly in regard to “brew” the root also provides us with our word “embroil,” in the sense of creating a confusing mess. This seems to go against our sensitivities, yet it an essential aspect of being Theo’s Place.

[Theology]

Our second word, “theology” comes from the Greek meaning, “an account of the gods. “Theo,” meaning “god.”

Sometime around the mid-14th c., “theology” became the “Science of Religion.” It went from the lower-case “t” to the Capital “T,” and in so doing became a system of belief in God. Putting God in the proper place.

This is something we had to study and debate in seminary—boring stuff.

But suppose we went back to the lower-case “t,” how would that look?

The archaic root that gives us “theo” is a verb meaning, “to put.” The suffix “ology,” simply means talking about.” Suppose the local church became the place where we openly struggled with what to do with God? Mary’s (that neighborhood pub) didn’t have sermons or bible studies, but honest struggling with life and God often took place around those tables. And when it did, no one ever said, “You‘re wrong.”

In Latin, this archaic root gives us, not only “god,” but also gives us the Latin word for holiday and festival, as well as “faith” and – I love this – “fairy.” I want to suggest that the Church should be a place of Celebration, that celebrates with gusto our messy faith.

[Conclusion]

I can’t close without commenting on Jesus turning water into wine. Remember, the water in the jugs was either spring or well water. The German word for “brew” is closely related to the Greek for both “well” and “spring.” Water is essential for life, and Jesus chose to turn water into wine for a party, and not a cheap bottle of wine either. These people had no idea who he was, other than the son of Mary and Joseph.

Yet, metaphorically he was offering himself as the Living Water to every one there without regard, and they drank the wine.

I have a friend -- an atheist -- who regularly attends church and is deeply involved in the life of the church. He says I go to church because ““I experience the god I do not believe in. And no one cares that I don’t believe.”

That is messy faith!

And a church who celebrates it

Let any one drink of me. As Scripture has said ‘out of them will flow rivers of living water.” (John 7:38)

Amen!

Frank A. Mills
Sheffield Lake, OH
November 17, 2024