Sermons from San Diego
The Bible isn't just a collection of writings from thousands of years ago, it is often remarkably relevant to living today. For example, we can mourn the state of our divided world. Or we can find hope and sustenance as we pursue a world that is open, inclusive, just, and compassionate through the teachings of Jesus and the prophets. Listen to Rev. Dr. David Bahr from Mission Hills United Church of Christ in San Diego make connections to scripture for living faith-fully today.
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Sermons from San Diego
Something Unexpected is Happening Here
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Jesus called out, try casting your net on the other side. Today we celebrate doing that. See John 21 for the story.
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Sermons from
Mission Hills UCC
San Diego, California
Rev. Dr. David Bahr
david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org
April 19, 2026
“Something is Happening Here”
John 21: 3-14 – Common English Bible
Later Simon Peter told them, “I’m going fishing.”
They said, “We’ll go with you.” They set out in a boat, but throughout the night they caught nothing. 4 Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples didn’t realize it was Jesus.
5 Jesus called to them, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?”
They answered him, “No.”
6 He said, “Cast your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.”
So they did, and there were so many fish that they couldn’t haul in the net. 7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It’s the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard it was the Lord, he wrapped his coat around himself (for he was naked) and jumped into the water. 8 The other disciples followed in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they weren’t far from shore, only about one hundred yards.
9 When they landed, they saw a fire there, with fish on it, and some bread. 10 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you’ve just caught.” 11 Simon Peter got up and pulled the net to shore. It was full of large fish, one hundred fifty-three of them. Yet the net hadn’t torn, even with so many fish. 12 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples could bring themselves to ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came, took the bread, and gave it to them. He did the same with the fish. 14 This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.
For those of us in the “professional church world,” there’s a name we’ve been hearing a lot – Ryan Burge. Not because he’s a new biblical scholar or theologian. He is a political scientist known for his charts and fact-based insights on churches in America.
He’s also an ordained pastor. Ryan grew up in southern Illinois in the kind of community where church is a given. Of course you go on Sundays. Of course you bring a dish to the potluck. Of course your life is spent serving on one committee or another – and take a turn at being the moderator of Church Council.
He went to seminary not because of a dramatic call but because it felt like the natural extension of his life growing up in church. But he was also really interested in research and so he earned a PhD in political science too.
While preaching and visiting people in hospital rooms, while burying the dead and baptizing the young, he was also pouring over charts and writing articles about the changing religious landscape.
And he saw in those charts the very things that were happening in his own church. He hadn’t baptized a baby in years. On the other hand, it seemed like he had a funeral every month. It wasn’t a surprise that, in 2024, his church decided to close.
It was painful. After serving as their pastor for 17 years, he had to give the final benediction for a community that had been faithful for generations. A year later, he wrote about it and said, very simply, “I’m still not over it.” Because that church had mattered. It had touched lives. It had been a place where people were known and cared for. And yet that was not enough.
To say it wasn’t his fault – “just look at the numbers” – is cold comfort for pastors like him and countless church members. Well, not countless. We have the numbers. Among 7 mainline churches – Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist, Episcopal, Disciples, American Baptist, and UCC – 15,000 churches have closed since 2000 – roughly 10 million people. But even Southern Baptists have 4 million fewer members in just the last 10 years.
To make it real, the UCC has closed an average of 6 churches every month for 20 years and counting. Not all at once. Not in one dramatic moment. Just… steadily, over time – a drop from 2 million members in 1960 to 680,000 today.
And the remaining churches are smaller. In 1960, the average church had 250 members. Today it’s closer to 90. Or think of it this way. Across the mainline church, the majority of congregations are 30, 40, maybe 50 people on Sunday morning. Many have fewer than 20. Given how small, the rate of closure is going to increase exponentially. What has been a decades long steady decline will suddenly feel like a collapse all at once.
But trends are not inevitabilities. And today, we get to see something else. Welcome to Capital Campaign Celebration Sunday – which is not just about pledges. We’re celebrating everything God is doing here. Not meant to be a story of exceptionalism or self-congratulation, but one of call – listening and responding.
Just days after his resurrection, Jesus stood on the beach cooking fish for breakfast. He called out to his disciples, who hadn’t caught a single fish all night long. “Cast your net on the other side of the boat.” And suddenly, their nets were full. 153 fish!
What changed? They listened to Jesus… and tried the other side.
Texas isn’t known for its multitude of open and affirming churches but for its megachurches. Shelley Washington had given up on them. Exhausted from years of being demonized from the pulpit, she walked away from church.
But one day a friend dragged a reluctant Shelley to St. Peter’s United Church of Christ in Houston. “When I walked in,” she said, “I immediately felt loved. People who didn't know me came right up to me with big smiles. And I thought, 'OK, God, we’ll give this another try.'"
St. Peter’s was founded in 1848 by seven German immigrant families. A great-granddaughter from one of those original families known affectionately as “Miss Evelyn” was still there, baptized in the church 84 years ago.
She tells stories of big barbecues, with men staying up all night to cook. Her Grandma making potato salad in a brand-new washtub. A grandma who demanded strict good behavior: no running in church, “sit still” on the hard wooden pews. That was especially difficult when guest preachers spoke in only German, a language she didn’t understand.
The church had refused to give up the language, dwindling down to only a few members in 1937. Finally, the decision was made to change from German to English. Members returned, the church grew, and in 1961 they built a much bigger brick sanctuary – but kept the original white clapboard sanctuary on the property.
Membership peaked in 1966 with 550 members. By 2018, they had 12. They decided to move their worship services back into the smaller original sanctuary, leaving the big brick one empty.
A succession of congregations rented from them. Until Cathedral of Hope Houston, an offshoot of the 4,000-member Cathedral of Hope UCC in Dallas. Yes, there are some large UCCs. This is also the world’s largest predominantly LGBTQ congregation.
But the Houston church never quite took off. And having to repeatedly move from rented spaces meant the church lost members every time. With their move to St. Peter’s, the congregation shrank again, from 23 to 15.
Slowly, membership stabilized. But then this church of mostly older white lesbians called a very different pastor: a young gay black man who helped them become who they’d always imagined.
People of all ages began to show up, different races and ethnicities, straight and gay and transgender. Membership doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled. By the end of 2018, Cathedral of Hope Houston had 85 members – a long way from a megachurch, but growing.
With their needs changing, they considered yet another a move because they weren’t sure that St. Peter’s, as a landlord, would or could make the changes they wanted.
Cathedral of Hope lay leaders came with a list of fixes if they were going to renew their lease. St. Peter’s lay leaders proposed no lease. No rent. Instead, a merger. With St. Peter’s historic name and their dynamic pastor.
Cathedral of Hope members were astonished. An elderly, white, traditional congregation would intentionally meld with the wildly diverse one? An old pump-organ would coexist alongside a drum set and gospel praise music? Not to mention the pastor himself – whose animated preaching once caused a button to pop off his robe.
Today, 84-year-old Miss Evelyn sings in the gospel choir – unable to sway like the other members – but beams with joy. When Shelley was dragged by a friend to St. Peter’s one Sunday, she immediately felt that love. And told God, “OK, I’m going to give church another try.”
When St. Peter’s shifted from German to English, when Cathedral of Hope called a pastor who didn’t look at the time like the rest of the congregation, when the two churches merged and became a unique blend of both – that’s Jesus calling from the shore. After fishing all night, “Cast your net on the other side of the boat.”
What Shelley said about St. Peter’s is what I hear all the time about Mission Hills. I felt the love almost immediately. Or, another thing I hear, I was startled when the whole congregation announced in unison, “You are welcome here.” It has an impact.
Our church is becoming a true blend of people who were baptized here 60 years ago, and people who walked in a year ago, or even a month ago, and found a home here.
- New programs sit alongside ministries that have existed for decades.
- Worship sometimes includes drums, sometimes only organ, sometimes new music, sometimes something nostalgic. Often in the same service. Always with intention.
- And our historic sanctuary will soon have a chancel with a clean, open look.
We have accomplished so much. And there are still more things we have to discern together. Remember how Ryan described the church. Of course you brought a dish to the potluck. Of course you served on a committee. That’s just what people did.
That’s not how life works for most people anymore. People are stretched. Schedules are full. The old way of organizing church doesn’t fit the way people actually live.
- In particular, we need to discern a workable model for administrative lay leadership for 5 and 10 years from now. What does that mean? Ministry still depends on lay people in leadership. Council members, conveners, and project-based short-term leaders of all kinds.
- We’ve already built something different. Our governance structure is smaller, more nimble, and more responsive than ever. But it still only works if people step into it.
- And so we need ways to sustain volunteer engagement without burning people out.
- Through all of it, we need to discern what to hold onto and what to let go of, so that what we do is sustained with joy, not exhaustion.
- Underneath it all, we need ways for people not just to attend, but to belong. For those who have been here a lifetime or just 20 years and those walking through the door today. To be known. And not just to have more relationships but deeper ones.
- And most of all, we want to keep growing deeper in faith in ways that are not just more information, but transformation.
We’ve come a long way. And today as we mark this milestone, let’s celebrate all that love. Let’s celebrate your generosity.
You can look at the numbers. Fifteen thousand churches closed. Ten million fewer people. The story might seem clear: This is the end of mainline Christianity in America. But it’s not. What is ending is the way churches have always done church. And fortunately, new models are emerging. It’s just that they don’t look like they did in the 1960s.
If you’ve been part of this congregation for many years, look at what God is doing. Look at the abundance already here.
And if you are newer, there is something unexpected and real happening here. I hope you can feel it. And know that you are invited into it too.