Have you heard the joke about the two doctors and the manager of an HMO who die and go to heaven? When the trio arrives at the Pearly Gates, St. Peter asks them to identify themselves.

The first doctor steps forward and says, "I was a specialist in the burn unit and helped many people recover from serious accidents." St. Peter says, "OK. You may step right on in."

The second doctor says, "I was a psychiatrist. I helped many people make sense of their lives." "Fine," St. Peter says, and invited him in, as well.

Third guy steps up and says, "I was manager of a large HMO. I helped many people get cost-effective health care." "Come on in," said St. Peter. But then he added,"You can stay three days. After that, you go straight to Hell."

I realize that this is a joke about HMOs, but I want to use it this morning to launch us into a reflection on St. Peter himself, that guy who's central to all these jokes, always there at the Pearly Gates with the power to decide who gets in and who does not. Did you ever wonder how Peter got that particular job? Why Peter and not some angel or archangel? It all goes back to the passage we heard this morning from Matthew's gospel in which Jesus gives Peter the keys to heaven and hell, saying, "You're a rock, Peter, and I will build my church upon you."

This curious exchange between Peter and Jesus is unique in several ways. It is only found in Matthew's gospel, not the others. And, it's one of only two places in the whole New Testament where the word "church"--ecclesia--is even used. So, in this our last sermon on the Nature and Purpose of the church, it seems appropriate to explore just what it is that Jesus says to Peter, and what in the world that might mean.

After all, Peter, as you might remember, was a complex character. He had been a Galilean fisher- man called out by Jesus to become a fisher of men and women on Jesus' behalf. One of the first of Jesus' twelve disciples, Peter and the others left their nets and everything familiar to them to follow this itinerant teacher and healer. And it was Jesus who gave him a new name as soon as he responded to the call to discipleship. "You are Simon, to be called Cephas," Jesus says.

Cephas. I met an unfortunate child once whose all too biblically-minded parents had named the poor kid Cephas. Too bad they didn't go with the Greek form of the same name and call him Peter. You see, both mean "stone' or "rock"-Cephas in Aramaic, and Peter (from the word petros) in Greek.

Now, the Cephas of our story is more familiar to us as Peter, or Simon Peter, that interesting combination of his old name and his new name. Peter was so sincere. He deeply wanted to follow Jesus. To do so, he confessed his own sinfulness. He left his predictable life to embrace an unknown future. He let Jesus preach from his boat and stay at his house. Later, Peter is often shown to be a spokesperson for the other disciples. He becomes a leader. He was among the first to grasp that Jesus of Nazareth is the messiah, and he was the first of the male disciples to see the risen Christ after the Resurrection.

But Peter could also be rash and headstrong. He tried to walk on water and sank. He was fearful in the storm. And eventually he would have to live with the shame of having denied Jesus three times on the night before the crucifixion.

Nevertheless, it is to this generous, faithful, far-from-perfect fisher of fish and of humans that Jesus says, ". . . on this rock I will build my church."

Here's how Eugene Peterson puts it in The Message, in this passage that we heard this morning. After Peter calls Jesus "Messiah," Jesus responds, "God bless you Simon, son of Jonah. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church . . . and not only that. You will have . . . keys to open any and every door. No more barriers between heaven and earth."

Sadly, these powerful words have become fighting words across the history of the church. Different interpretations have been used to justify different forms of church authority and structure. Roman Catholics believe that apostolic succession flows from Peter down to each successive Pope, who holds all ultimate authority for the teaching of the church. Anglicans, however, see this same Peter as first among equals, so that the keys to authority and teaching are given to all the bishops of the church, not solely the bishop of Rome.

And Protestants, like ourselves, understand this same blessing of Peter to mean that it is the faith of Peter that is the bedrock of the church and our faith, too, so that the keys are given to the church as community, not just to the apostolic succession of the bishops.

We believe that in each generation, the faithful people become the rock upon which Christ builds the church. We are the rock, or as we read it in I Peter, we are the living stones who let ourselves be built into a spiritual house. We are the living stones from which the church is formed.

I'm not sure that this is really the news we hope to hear in such a time as this, which has been called "this time of punishing change." Not so long ago, the image of the Rock was used to advertise the dependability of the Prudential Life [Insurance] Company. Those ads are now passe.

Turmoil in the financial realm mirrors turmoil in the political realm. We are obsessed with homeland security, though it threatens to evade our control. Clouds of war loom on the horizon.

The rock of our sense of security seems neither dependable nor secure. We approach the one-year anniversary of September 11th fearful and uncertain. In a time such as this, the solid, reliable, sheltering refuge of a rock sounds good.

And yet, it is we who are called to be living stones. It is we upon whom Christ seeks even now to build his church. It is to those such as Peter, such as ourselves, that Christ gives the keys to heaven and hell-not to one leader somewhere, or a group of leaders, or an institution. WE are entrusted with the ministry of the keys-the awesome responsibility of holding the keys to understanding and reconciliation. The keys to forgiveness and renewal. The keys to life and hope.

This understanding has astonishing implications for what we do and how we live. We have the keys to open every door, that there be no barriers between earth and heaven. That is to say, as the gathered people of God, the ecclesia, the church, we must incarnate the love that God intends for this creation. We must exemplify the grace of forgiveness to all who are broken in conscience and spirit. We must unlock the doors of salvation to all who are skeptical and to those who feel unworthy. We must share the balm of God's peace with all who suffer and mourn. We must unlock the promise of hope to those who despair.

This is how our exercise of the ministry of the keys with which we are all entrusted opens the kingdom of heaven to all who would seek entrance-not after they get to heaven, God willing, but here and now. This news should be received with fear and trembling. We, living stones, are to live as an authentic representation of Christ in this world. And upon this rock, he builds the church.

We come this morning to the conclusion of this long summer sermon series on the nature and purpose of the church in which Larry and Greg and I have shared with all of you. It has been a long journey. We have explored our foundational sacraments of baptism and communion. We have examined the church in mission, the church for others. We have considered our calling to evangelize, to share the Good News with those who do not yet know its healing and liberating power. We have celebrated the church as the universal, ecumenical body of Christ spanning the generations and blanketing the globe. We have looked at our calling to use our own giftedness to sow seeds of love and justice and life throughout the communities in which we live.

As we consider the high and sacred nature of this calling we all share, to be Christ's living stones, it might help to hear these words from the popular Harry Potter books: "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Our job is to discern, as best we can, where he [Christ] is leading us and what he would have us do and then choose to be his faithful people. Building up the church in each new generation is our job. And, as one astute observer has noted: "Renewing the church is like remodeling your house. It takes longer than you hoped. It costs more than you planned. And it makes a bigger mess than you ever thought possible." Surely, that's how old Peter felt about the cost of discipleship!

But with that in mind, let me conclude this morning with this important proviso. Note that in this passage, Jesus says, ". . . on this rock, I will build my church." I will build my church. It's as if Jesus has contracted for the construction work. We're the workers, but he's the boss. The power is his. The glory is his. Responsibility for the ultimate outcome is his, he who has the power to grant life abundant beyond our imagining.

So, brothers and sisters, let's lean on him, let's draw our strength from him. Let's look to him for inspiration and courage. Let's find in him assurance and peace. Let him be our rock and in gratitude, let him shape us into the church he needs us to be in this time and place. Amen.

© Patricia E. Farris, 2002. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.