Sunday, September 4, 2011

Where Two or Three Are Gathered

In 1973 psychiatrist Karl Menninger published a book with an arresting title: Whatever Became of Sin? In it, Menninger argued that, in our rush to identify all wrongdoing as illness, we have almost totally lost our sense of human sinfulness. Today, it almost feels quaint to talk about “sin.” Even our wonderful 1979 Book of Common Prayer, a product of the 1960s and ‘70s, downplays human sinfulness.

The question of whatever became of sin is part of a larger and more provocative question: whatever became of Church discipline? First of all, do we as Christians in the Anglican tradition hold to any clear statements of belief? Has any of you actually ever looked at the Thirty-Nine Articles or the Catechism, both of which are in the back of the Book of Common Prayer? Perhaps the Nicene Creed or the Apostles Creed provide clear statements of belief. Who understands what they really say, and what those ancient statements have to do with life in the twenty-first century? Secondly, do we as Christians strive to keep a holy lifestyle? Do we even care about basic morality and civility? Do we acknowledge and repent of our sins? Do we respect marriage and other sacred vows? Do fasting and feasting have any meaning for us? Has the tithe gone out with buggy whips and high button shoes? Do we feel obligated to worship regularly or keep the Sabbath? And finally do we as Christians care anything about the other members of the Body of Christ in this place or any other place? Or do we feel like disparate cogs who gather for our Sunday fix – when we feel like it – and then run away to our various separate pursuits? Are we all just a voluntary association with no accountability to God or to each other?

When we look back at the history of our churches, it’s not hard to see the shift from church as controlling community to church as a collection of people for whom almost anything goes. In the ancient, medieval, and early Reformation worlds, the church, regardless of denomination, was a core social institution that exercised control over almost every aspect of life. Even as late as the nineteenth century in this country, church communities could enforce on their members rules of doctrinal confession, social behavior, and mutual care and concern. In many places, woe to anyone who didn’t accept Scripture as God’s literal word, or who went dancing on Saturday night, who drank alcoholic beverages, or who didn’t keep the Sabbath, or whose womenfolk cut their hair. Even into the 1950s, many churches exercised decisive and significant control over their members’ lives. In today’s world, perhaps only the Amish and a few other marginal sects embody such all-embracing communities.

The 1960s of course were the turning point in this country. Since then, we’ve replaced our sense of sin with a belief in illness, as Karl Menninger so rightly observed. As church, we’ve succumbed to the extreme individualism of American life. Indeed, most of our Christian communities are as socially fragmented as the rest of American culture, as Christians sort themselves out according to political affiliation, approach to the interpretation of Scripture, musical tastes, age, or social class. More important, I am quite sure that everyone here has a strong sense of personal moral autonomy and privacy. You would not expect the church to maintain the disciplinary standards of even Rotary or Kiwanis. You would surely never expect your clergy person to say anything – and God forbid not in a sermon – about divorce, addiction, workaholism, conspicuous consumption, domestic abuse, or a host of other sins. I suspect you would not even want me to suggest that you had a responsibility to address the sins and shortcomings of any other member of the parish family. Indeed, it’s a great irony that now, in the Episcopal Church at least, only the clergy are subject to church discipline. We have clear canons as to the reasons for which clergy may be deposed or otherwise relieved of their clerical responsibilities, and lay persons are encouraged to bring potential concerns to their bishop. But no such standards exist for lay people.

So are we just another voluntary association? Are we no better than, perhaps not even as good as, Rotary or Kiwanis? God forbid. In this country, we may have lost a clear sense of what we believe, we may have a weak sense of personal sinfulness, and we may have no idea what holy living looks like. Perhaps, like the earliest Christian communities, we too struggle with the question of how much to accede to the demands of the culture around us. Some of us may even wonder whether it isn’t time to again become a counter-cultural community, at odds with the wider culture, like some of our new monastic communities.

My brothers and sisters, despite our ingrained sense of extreme individualism, despite our struggles and questions, we are not another voluntary organization. Regardless of our size, whether we are a mega church or a handful of souls, we are a community devoted to, led by, and embodying Christ. We have been called together, called out of the world, by the Holy Spirit to be a new family, a family not based on blood, but on inclusion in Christ. We are a community, a Body, in which each member is needed and valued. We are not an association of like-minded, discrete individuals, we are a fellowship of believers united with one another in Jesus Christ, under his headship. And we are a community with two governing principles. The first principle is to love God with all our hearts, souls, strength, and minds, in other words to do all that we can, as often as we can, to strengthen our bond with God and with God’s Son. The second principle is to love our neighbors as ourselves – all of our neighbors. For, love is not only the fulfillment of the law, as Paul reminds us in today’s Epistle reading. Love is the means by which we imitate Jesus. Indeed, the world should know that “we are Christians by our love,” And so, we are also a community of mutual interdependence, a community whose members care for and about each other, a community whose members are mutually accountable to each other.

We are also a community of sinful, fallible human beings. Despite our best efforts to love God and our neighbors, inevitably there will be conflicts among us that threaten to destroy our community. These conflicts arise perhaps from grievances of one person against another, or perhaps because one of our members has gone too far down the path of sin. Today’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel gives us a way to address our conflicts and demonstrate our concern for one another.

Certainly, the three-step process outlined in today’s reading could be useful for many communities. I want to highlight just two aspects of that process. The first is that our most important goal is always to preserve community. Our translation obscures the fact that Jesus’ instructions begin with a reminder that a Christian community is a family: the Greek actually says, “If your sister or brother should commit some wrong against you…” Any approach to a fellow member of the community must preserve the dignity of that person and must include an honest expression of the issue at hand. And please note: we are not asked to deny conflict, or grievances, and we are certainly not asked to condone violence or abuse. But our goal is always to “regain that one,” to assure repentance and reconciliation. Secondly, even at the last, where a person is treated as a “Gentile or tax collector,” our goal is to maintain connection. If Jesus is our model, then no one can ever be written off or permanently shunned, for Jesus himself welcomed sinners, Gentiles, and tax collectors. Jesus was always ready to forgive and welcome back. We are not a voluntary organization. We are a community called together, called out, called to care for one another and for the world, and called to care for each others' souls in the bonds of love.

Presbyterian pastor Richard Henderson reminds us that our passing of the peace is a liturgical expression of the bonds of love that tie a Christian community together. Despite what you may think, the Peace is not an empty social ritual or a chummy greeting. Before and after church, in coffee hour especially, is when we can catch up with other socially. The Peace is rather an ancient part of Christian worship. It is a way of praying for each other, of asking Jesus to bless the other person and give that person peace. It is also a way for us to clearly demonstrate that we bear no grudges against each other, that we have been reconciled with each other. God willing, when we greet each other in peace in this place, we will recognize the bonds of Christian love that bind us, despite our sins and conflicts.

We are not a voluntary association. We are a community whose foundation is Jesus, and we are called to live in such a way that we too show forth Christ to the world.

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