"Leadership in Community"
Acts 6: 1-7
Rev. Emily Labrecque, Westmoreland UCC
May 3, 2026

[Pray: Speak to us God for we are listening. Speak to us God for we are waiting for your voice. Speak to us God in our hearts and all around. Tell us what can be, what can be. Amen.]

A couple of weeks ago we heard about how the early Christians seemed to be living in a utopia of sorts- sharing everything in common, distributing wealth equitably, worshipping together in their homes. As it says in Acts 4: they were of one heart and soul. “There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it [down] and it was distributed to each as any had need.” What a gift and joy it must have been to share in that way, knowing that they were following in the way of Jesus.

But as any ideal scenario, it worked until it didn’t. Things started to change over time. The community started growing, there were differing cultures and therefore different ideas about how to approach their life together, and squabbles ensued. Their leadership structure, whatever it looked like, wasn’t enough to meet the needs of the community. The Greek-speaking believers became frustrated with the Hebrew-speaking believers. The Greeks complained that the Greek-speaking widows were being discriminated against in the daily distribution of food. Now, it was commanded in the laws given to the Israelites that they care for the widow and the orphan (Deut. 14:28-29; 24:17-21; 26:12-13). And so, for a community designed to take care of each according to need, this was a problem.

The disciples, the Twelve, were in charge of spreading the Gospel. So, while they could have helped the community sort out the problem, it wasn’t their role. Their responsibility as leaders was to help the community restructure, so they decided they needed to have the community appoint seven leaders. They needed to set aside a group of leaders to take on this other component of community life. And then, in an amazing twist, they don’t just appoint anybody, they appoint primarily Greek-speaking leaders, representatives of the marginalized population, to oversee the distribution of food. This wasn’t just a practical move, it was one born of justice and power-sharing.

And there you have it! The first committees: outreach and social justice.

The spiritual leaders of the community, the disciples, realized they couldn’t do everything. They were upfront about the fact that the task of sharing God’s word left little time for taking care of issues at home. They needed partners in ministry, partners who would ensure the very real, human needs would be met. This instinct – that no one person or group can do it all – is at the heart of what Paul wrote to the church in Corinth.

In the first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes about spiritual gifts and uses the image of the body as a metaphor. Just as every part of the body has a unique and necessary function, every person has been gifted and placed within the community for a purpose. No one is too insignificant or too different to contribute – in fact, those who are often overlooked or pushed to the margins are frequently the most essential to the whole. Together, as a community of faith, each person's unique gifts and presence matter deeply, and we only truly flourish when everyone has the space and support to play their part.

Now, I’ve seen this lived out. I know what it’s like when a community really believes this to be true.

When I was growing up in Battle Creek, Michigan, my family attended First Congregational UCC. (As a side note, that made our acronym FCCUCCBC ... and you thought WCUCC was cumbersome!) At the time, it was a booming church of three pastors, several hundred members, lots of children and families, and vibrant programming. There were lots of ways for people to plug into the ministries and opportunities the church offered. One of the methods they used to get people involved included a tagline which said, “I, too, minister here.” It’s not just the pastors who were the ministers, but everyone was a minister. The church believed that each person in the faith community had a role to play – children through elders, abled and disabled, and everyone in between.

This motto, “I, too, minister here” meant a lot to me. Even as a 10 year old, I was empowered into leadership. I started out as the bearer of the Christ Candle in the processional, then I was afforded the opportunity to read the call to worship on a weekly basis. As I got to high school I became the youth liaison to the Christian Education committee, and then I was on the alternative worship committee. And then as I further discerned my call to ministry I was invited to preach.

Now, I get that this is a unique experience because I had gifts for ministry, but it was BECAUSE of that slogan, BECAUSE the community understood it to be truth, that “I, too, minister here” that I felt so encouraged in my faith journey.

I’m sure many of you also have stories about how you have felt empowered to take on new roles. Take a moment to reflect on what that experience looked like and felt like ... what did it mean to you to feel seen and empowered ... what did it take for you to say yes? One of the ways churches thrive is when we pass on the metaphorical keys, or in our case, the door codes. Churches thrive when the current leaders seek out and empower the next generation of leaders, walking alongside them as they get their feet wet, praying for them in their new roles, and providing support when needed. Imagine what it means to someone when they know they're being prayed for and supported as they step into something new.

We are a church full of leaders. I’d like to invite you to stand, if you’re able, or raise your hand, if you at some point have ever been in a leadership position at Westmoreland: that means on a committee, leading a committee, participating in an ad hoc project ... Look around. It takes all of us. It takes a village to raise a child, it takes a faith community to spread the love of God. You may be seated. When you go down for social hour, you’ll see index cards and pens on the tables. I invite you to write a note of thanks to an individual or a committee, or any part of our leadership offering your gratitude for the work they have done or continue to do for WUCC. You can then put the index cards in the baskets on the tables and we’ll post them up on a bulletin board for people to read. A way to show our thanks and appreciation for roles that might often be overlooked.

“I, too, minister here” never felt like an empty sentiment to me. It is a reflection of the God who has called each and every one of us to live out our gifts and values in this community. It is a way to live the way the Early Christians did by stepping into the roles we are called to fulfill. Some of you are clear about those roles: governance council, faith formation, social justice and action. Some of you might be facing health challenges or new realities and thus have to step back or shift how you are involved. Meanwhile our elders have so much to share – how might you begin to pass on the wisdom of your years so the church will continue to thrive? And still, some of you might be discerning how to get involved for the first time or in a new way. I promise there’s a place for you at this table. Begin by praying about what you might be called to or how you might be called in a new way and then talk to folks who will be able to help you find a concrete first step.

Beloveds, we are a people of faith called by a faithful God to spread the message of Jesus’ extravagant love in the world. I minister here, you, too, minister here. And when we live that way – when everyone has a place, and no one is overlooked – that’s when the church looks like the body of Christ. May we continue to build one another up, empower each other into ministry, and share God’s love.

Amen.