Thinking positive might as well be the mantra of the church. Anybody who's ever read anything about evangelism knows that if your congregation isn't peppy, it won't attract new members. That makes sense if you think about it: nobody wakes up on Sunday morning saying, "Honey! What do you say? Let's go feel bad about ourselves today!"* No, church is supposed to be a place of hope, encouragement, and joy. We really like it when we can leave with a spring in our step, don't we?

Don't worry, I'm not about to attack this fine tradition. I just wrote a long essay the other day about why I am an optimist. And having experienced for myself churches that feel bad about themselves (or their pastor), I can say that I am not eager to go back. With all of reasons in the world to feel bad, to feel negative, there ought to be one place to find relief. You want to be a pessimist, go read the newspaper. You want to be a hopeful person, you've come to the right place. Joy, we're still working on.

I just want to say that there is one circumstance in which thinking positive doesn't always serve our needs, and that is when we have to face up to a painful history. And trust me: I know that you have had some painful spots here at Salem church. I may not have heard all the stories or all the details, but I've heard enough to know that it hasn't always been wine and roses.

And trust me: we all have a painful history in one way or another. Let me use myself as an example. Most of you, I think, have heard about our time in Pennsylvania. We met some wonderful people in the churches I served, made some really good friends, and had some really good experiences. We also met some really nasty people in the churches I served and had some very painful experiences. But in the process of talking those experiences through - both good and bad - I've learned, and grown, and now here I am with you, a better person and a better pastor for them. Had I refused to deal with those experiences, had I stuffed them down in a box and refused to acknowledge their presence, I'd probably be a ruined person today. Because no matter how much you try to forget it, no matter how much you try to repress it, no matter how much you try to lock it up and throw away the key, it is still there. It is still there, and it is still working on you in an uncontrolled and usually negative fashion. "Sunlight is the best disinfectant," it is said, and I certainly think that's true.

I have also discovered something miraculous in this process. I've gone back and talked to some of the people with whom I had such difficulty, and after a couple of years have passed, they've said to me, "You know, I didn't have very much fun with that, either. I'm sorry we had to go through it." You'd think that people would hold a grudge, but as often as not, they look back and wonder what they were fighting about in the first place, or why it was such a big deal.

Which is to say, we're often more united than we believe when we talk about conflict. Again, this makes sense if you stop to think about it. When people can't get over a conflict with one another, they tend to separate. So the fact that you're all still here in the church means that you've found some way to reconcile yourselves to one another. Either that, or you just really enjoy fighting with one another, but I don't think that's the case.

Talking about difficult or painful times in the past can be therapeutic, then, and if it's done appropriately, shouldn't result in new divisions. In fact, it can bring people closer together, because they can live more honestly with one another, and because they grow together as they learn from their experience.

But here's the kicker: talking about the past is also something we can do honestly because people know it anyway. I know your history because you've told me. Your neighbors and friends certainly know your history.

And above all, God knows your history. "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you," he tells the prophet Jeremiah, "and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations." Meaning, I know who you are. I've always known who you are, and what you were capable of. And now, with that knowledge, I have chosen you for special duty.

And so it is for us. God knows all about that fight the Consistory had ten years ago! God knows what you said to Mr. So-and-So, and God knows what Mr. So-and-So said in response. God knows who was a good fit here as a pastor, and who was not. Who was cut out to be a good pastor, and who was not.

And now - even now - in the full light of that knowledge, God has called you for special duty. Jeremiah tries to wriggle out of his calling by saying "I'm too young!" But God is having none of it:

"Do not say, `I am only a boy'; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD."

God knows about our weaknesses, our shortcomings and our failings, and still, we are called. Not despite those things, but in their light, because God has chosen that which is weak to confound the strong, as Paul says. Furthermore, God promises to stand behind us, to guide and protect us, as he does with Jeremiah, who will have to deliver a hard word or three to powerful people in the name of the Lord.

And if we cannot fulfill the calling which we have been given, God will equip us, as he does with Jeremiah:

Then the LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth; and the LORD said to me, "Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant."

Jeremiah doesn't know what to say, but God gives him the words to preach, and more. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here: we won't be plucking up or pulling down any nations, certainly not destroying or overthrowing any, unless we have some very interesting conversations after brunch. But perhaps, just perhaps, we will be able to build and to plant something here by taking stock of where we have been so that we can look toward where we are called with open arms.

So talk about the good times, talk about the bad times, talk about whatever you need to. Just, whatever you do, speak from the heart. And if you don't know what to say, don't worry: God will put his words in your mouth, too, for you are his, and he has called you by name, knowing full well who you are, and loving you all the same. Amen.

*We do know at least one such person. He's Baptist. We worry about him.