The Eye Cannot Say to the Hand

“The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you….’” Those fractious Corinthians! They were certainly a diverse community of Jesus’ followers. Living in a Roman port city, they had heard the good news from both Paul and others. Members of their community included both gentiles and Jews – and remember how difficult it was for them to get along – rich and poor, slaves and free, men and women, all of different origins and ethnicities.

When Paul wrote to these Corinthian Christians in the mid ‘50s AD, it was clear that there was dissension and conflict among them. Paul’s responses suggest some of the things they were arguing about: who had baptized the different members and therefore which faction they belonged to; whether they should eat meat sacrificed in pagan temples – not a trivial matter; whether they should remain married to pagan spouses; how women should dress their hair – also not a trivial matter; and how to regard various spiritual gifts, especially the gift of “tongues.” Paul was especially distressed to learn that when these Corinthian Christians gathered for the Eucharist, their gathering included a meal, in which the rich inclined in an inner courtyard where slaves served them a sumptuous dinner, while the poor were forced to fend for themselves in an outer courtyard.

Last week, this week, and next week, we hear the sections of Paul’s letter, in which he addresses this way of gathering for the Eucharist. Paul’s approach is to provide a theological foundation, and then to provide specific instructions. We won’t hear the specific instructions – they are in chapter 14 – but from the three sections you do hear you can guess what they might be.

Last week’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthian Christians emphasized spiritual gifts. Paul reminded his hearers that whatever gifts we have come from the Holy Spirit at work within us. And, more important, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

Now Paul wants to make sure that his hearers understand what he is talking about. So he uses an image that would be very familiar to them: the human body. The image of the human body was actually commonly used in the ancient world to describe society and to justify the hierarchical nature of society. However, here Paul uses the image of the human body to suggest what a Christian community is – or should be. It is a community in which all have been joined to Christ. It is a community that is not stratified, and in which all are full members. All are needed, all are equally valuable, and all share in each other’s joys and sorrows. In such a community social differences are irrelevant, for all are empowered by the Holy Spirit in baptism, and all are nourished by Christ in the Eucharist.

Yet Paul also acknowledges the delicate balance in such a community: “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.” Although the members of a Christian community are united by the Spirit, they retain their individual gifts and talents. Indeed the community is richer for such diversity. All are needed to build up the community, all are needed for wholeness, and all are needed to reflect the diversity and comprehensiveness of God. More important, the community reflects the inclusiveness of God: all are welcomed into the body of Christ. Indeed, not only are all welcomed, all are needed if the body is to function as it should.

Those fractious Christians! Sometimes I wonder if we have learned anything since the first century. We have been reading Paul’s letter to the Corinthians for two thousand years. But are we all that different from those Corinthians who needed so desperately to be reminded of their unity in Christ, who needed to be inspired again to live as God’s beloved children and not as each other’s sworn enemies? Don’t we still see around us deep divisions among those who claim to be followers of Jesus, among those who have been baptized into the body of Christ?

Of course, the divisions that Paul addressed among the Corinthians also existed among other early Christian communities. Certainly, the communities in Ephesus and Galatia struggled to bring together Jews and gentiles. The same was no doubt true for the communities that first heard the gospels of Matthew and John and the book of Revelation. As the church expanded, there were Christians who followed the distinctive teachings of Nestor, or Arius, or Marcion. Alas, there was probably never a period of perfect unity among Christians. Certainly, the great councils of the fourth and fifth centuries did their best to reconcile differences. The wording of the Nicene Creed and the canon of Scripture – the books that make up the Bible – represent the efforts of the early Church to come to some kind of basic unity, despite all their many differences.

The differences among the various Christian bodies continued to grow, especially theological differences. Finally, in 1054, what little unity there was in the church was shattered, as the eastern church, led by the patriarch of Constantinople, and the western church, led by Pope Leo IX, formally separated. There has been much nasty history between the two bodies since then. The Orthodox in particular, who still consider Constantinople, now Istanbul, to be their see city, have yet to forgive the Catholic crusaders for looting Constantinople in 1204. Thanks be to God, Catholics and Orthodox have begun inching back together, and we can continue to pray that this historic breach may yet be healed.

Meanwhile, our mother church, the Church of England, was born in the wake of the great schism of the Reformation. In England and in the rest of Europe, the sixteenth century was a bloody century among Christians. Indeed our wonderful Book of Common Prayer represents an attempt to resolve some of the conflicts among English Christians: if we can’t agree theologically, it was said, at least we can all worship with the same words. Of course the splintering of the church has continued to this day, with myriad denominations and independent Christian communities, each believing that they are following the lead of Christ. And I might say that they conflicts we see in the church are not unique to the church. Deep divisions exist among all the historic faith communities. Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus all struggle with interpreting Scripture, ordering worship, and living within their respective cultures.

All this may be more history than you want, but it does provide a way of looking at recent events in the Anglican Communion and here in Gallipolis. The Anglican Communion currently comprises thirty-eight churches that descend from the Church of England. The Episcopal Church is one of them. Earlier this month the primates of the various provinces met in England under the leadership of the Archbishop of Canterbury. In that meeting a majority of the primates voted to ask the Episcopal Church to bow out of certain councils, because of our embrace of same-gender marriage. Needless to say, the primates’ vote reveals differences in interpretation of Scripture and the different social conditions under which these churches, mostly from Africa and Asia, attempt to live out their vision of the Gospel.

As most of you are by now aware, also earlier this month, the pastor of Grace UMC, who served as unofficial convener of the churches that participated in the Community Lenten services, “uninvited” First Presbyterian Church of Gallipolis and St. Peter’s from continuing to participate in these services, ostensibly because of our embrace of same-gender marriage and welcome of lesbian and gay folks more generally. Neither First Presbyterian nor St. Peter’s has done anything illegal or contrary to the canons of our denominations. Nevertheless we were told that we were unwelcome. It appears that the UMC pastor has now gathered together several like-minded pastors and will go forward with Lenten services in some form without us. As I consider both these events, I feel strongly as if the eye has said to the hand, “I don’t need you.”

Paul gives us a different vision of Christian community. Instead of fragmentation and conflict, instead of dissension and “uninviting,” Paul reminds us of our essential unity as followers of Christ. As I think about these recent events, both in the Anglican Communion and locally, and especially as I try to view them charitably, I see them as perhaps reflecting the diversity of the body of Christ. And I pray that we can see that diversity as contributing to the wholeness of the body. I pray that the body of Christ is truly a body where all parts are needed, welcomed, and valued, and where all have their respective roles. I firmly believe that the Episcopal Church takes its lead from Jesus’ embrace of all. I believe we are on the side of justice. I believe that our role now is to witness to the rightness of full inclusion in our life of lesbian and gay folks, including the embrace of same-gender marriage. Most important, I believe that we must continue to remain a hospitable and welcoming community for all, while we continue to do the work in the world to which God has called us.

The Book of Common Prayer can help us with this call – as it has done since 1549. I invite you to turn to page 824 and pray with me, “O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Playgrounds instead of War Zones

Metanoeite! Metanoeite! “Time’s up! God’s kingdom is here.” Metanoeite and believe God’s Message. Can you hear the urgency in Jesus’ words? Can you hear the call to change? Of course we can’t you say, we don’t speak Koine Greek. What’s that Greek work Jesus used? Well, Jesus didn’t speak Greek either, he spoke Aramaic, but, since Mark was writing for a community that did speak Greek, he quoted what Jesus said in Greek instead of Aramaic. And he used the word metanoeite to convey something important about Jesus’ opening message.

So what does this word mean, and why should we take it seriously? To be honest – and I risk sounding pedantic here – “repent,” the word used by the NRSV, the translation of the Bible that we Episcopalians commonly use, does not begin to convey what the evangelist thought Jesus was saying. “Repent” sounds like something we do on Ash Wednesday, as we let the priest put an ash cross on our foreheads and say the Litany of Penitence. Or perhaps “repent” suggests confessing your sins to a priest and receiving absolution. That’s not what metanoeite means at all! The Message, a very contemporary translation of the Bible, comes a little closer to its meaning. “Change your life,” Jesus says in The Message.

Metanoeite. Let’s see if we can hear a little more clearly what Jesus actually said. First of all, metanoeite, is an imperative verb. Did you need to dust off your high school English? Remember that an imperative verb is a command. Jesus was commanding people to do something. He was not asking, requesting, inviting, or suggesting. He did not say, “If you have time,” or “when you feel like it,” or “if it interests you.” He commanded. And what did he command? He commanded people to change direction, to stop doing what they had always done and start behaving differently. He commanded them to stop looking back to old ways and old laws, to face forward, and to look to the future. He commanded people to realize that, with his coming, everything has to change, and, indeed, everything has already changed. He commanded people to embrace that change and to realize that God is doing a new thing.

Metanoeite. Secondly, metanoeite is in the present tense. In Greek that means an action that continues to go on. So Jesus was telling people that the kind of change he was calling for in their lives was not a one-off thing. It was not something they did once and never had to do again. It was a continuous process. Jesus was commanding people to reassess God’s work every day, and to accept and embrace daily the kinds of changes God was bringing about in the world.

And thirdly, and maybe most important, metanoeite is a plural verb. Jesus wasn’t commanding individual people to change, he wasn’t talking about “me and sweet Jesus,” he was commanding everyone, people everywhere to change their way of life, and to do it together. Hearing Jesus use that word, Mark’s community understood that being followers of Jesus meant that they were to follow Jesus together, that their new lives as Jesus’ disciples would always comprise both their relationship with him and their relationship with one another.

Can you hear the same call for change in Paul’s letter to the Christians in Corinth? Paul was writing a few years before Mark. He and the community to whom he was writing believed that Jesus would return within their own lifetimes, and that belief colors what he says in this part of the letter. We no longer share Paul’s understanding of Jesus’ return, but we still hear his call – his urgent call – to change. Paul himself had experienced the most radical possible change of perspective in his own life after encountering Jesus on the road to Damascus. Now, as he wrote to the fledgling disciples in Corinth, he understood that, because God had acted, because the Word had become flesh in Jesus, because God has established God’s reign, the Corinthians too were called to metanoeite, they too could no longer live as they once had. They were called, urged because the time is short, to see their lives differently. Paul called them to see their lives in a wider context, to understand, in the words of one of our wonderful old hymns, that “God is working God’s purpose out.” Because the Corinthian Christians had committed themselves to following Jesus, they needed to see their lives differently. They were put their relationship with Jesus above all earthly relationships. Consequently, Paul told them, they were to regard nothing and no one, not spouses, not possessions, not business associates, not rituals, not anything, as more important than their relationship with Jesus.

Even our reading from the strange and satirical book of Jonah embodies a call to change. First, Jonah was called by God to change. After refusing to do as God had asked him to do, he finally, grudgingly, accepted God’s call to “Get up, go to Nineveh … and proclaim.” Jonah’s proclamation did not explicitly call the Ninevites to change their ways. Nevertheless, hearing that their great city would be destroyed in forty days, the Ninevites understood their need to beg God’s forgiveness and reform their way of life. And, as Jonah had predicted, in response to the Ninevites’ repentance, God himself demonstrated a change of heart in refraining from destroying Nineveh after all.

Metanoeite. Do you hear the urgency in it? Do you hear the call to change? Is this the time to truly commit yourself to turning around, to changing your orientation, to following Jesus more closely? The time is short: now is the time to accept Jesus’ command. Is faith just an add-on to your life? Now is the time to commit to letting Christ nourish you in the Eucharist regularly, not just when you feel like it, or when you have time. Now is the time to pay attention to your spiritual life – regularly, daily, throughout the day. Now is the time to have what Buddhist monks call “a beginner’s mind,” or to follow the Franciscans in their commitment to always begin again. Now is the time to acknowledge that nothing and no one have a higher claim on you than Jesus and your relationship to him – not your spouse, not your relatives, not your work, not your play, not your politics, not your business. Now is the time to change your life and act as if you believe that God’s reign has already begun.

Can you change the way you see things, can you look to the future and see the possibilities for change that the full coming of God’s reign might bring? “Listen to a young Cambodian, Chath Piersath, praying for his country: There will be playgrounds instead of war zones. There will be more schools instead of brothels and nightclubs. The children will sing songs of joy instead of terror. They will learn how to read love instead of hate.”1

Or hear the story of small farmers in Nicaragua. They too have embraced change. In a recent post for Episcopal Relief and Development, Sara Delaney described attending a workshop on sustainable agricultural development in Nicaragua sponsored by ERD and the Council of Protestant Churches.2 As part of the program, Juana Francisa Saldaña and Octavio Delgadillo have learned new techniques in planting and in soil and water management. They then have shared the new techniques with five “disciples” among their group, staying with them as they try out the methods on their own farms. Everyone involved in the program could see that patience was needed before they could see change. But change did happen! One of the women had lost her land when her husband unexpectedly died. “Undeterred, she has worked to slowly build up her new land, digging trenches, using compost and planting fruits and vegetables. She told [Sara] that she is hoping for the day, in two or three years, when – ‘I can see the fruits on the trees, my children can go and eat, and we can share in solidarity with our brothers and sisters.’

What would it take to bring Chath Piersath’s vision closer to reality? What would it take to help the Nicaraguans continue to change their way of life to develop more sustainable agricultural practices? More important, what are our visions? How is Jesus calling us to change ourselves, our families, this parish, our community? I have visions of a people nourished by Jesus and sent out to be Christ for the world. I have visions of adequate food and healthcare for all and of people of different races, ethnicities, and faith communities working and living in harmony with each other. I have visions of the increased use of sustainable agricultural techniques in this country and the development of sustainable energy sources, so that we may stop our rape of the earth. I look forward to the day when “they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.”

Metanoeite! “Time’s up! God’s kingdom is here. Change your life and believe the Message.”

1. Elizabeth Rogers and Elias Amidon, eds. Prayers for a Thousand Years (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1999), pp. 4-5, quoted in Synthesis, January 25, 2015, 3.
2. “The Art of Patience – From the Garden to the Subway Platform,” http://us8.campaign-archive2.com/?u=671f8d0cc20ebfcdbef7f9c19&id=b4671f08c4&e=74e7ab0bc8, January 23, 2015.

Follow Me

It was a warm day. Most of the men who fished along the Sea of Galilee – which was actually a freshwater lake – had come in from their night’s work. They had eaten some breakfast and caught a little shuteye. Now they were mending any tears in their nets made by the previous night’s catch and beginning to think about tonight’s catch. None of these men was in a position of power. They weren’t at the bottom of the social scale, like the poor-as-dirt shepherds or beggars – or worse. But neither were they among the learned or priestly elites. They were hard-working people, who paid all of Herod’s taxes, got around his endless regulations as best they could, and had as little to do as possible with the Roman soldiers prowling around. And they had families to support, wives and children and in-laws. Their lives weren’t easy, but then whose were?

Onto the shore that morning walked an itinerant rabbi, Yehoshua ha-Notsri, the former carpenter Jesus from that little village some miles inland. He stopped first at Simon and Andrew’s boat – they were late coming in. What on earth did he want? Usually these rabbis waited for prospective students to approach them. He looked intently at Simon and Andrew and said, almost commanded, “Come with me. I’ll make a new kind of fisherman out of you. I’ll show you how to catch men and women instead of perch and bass.” Now what did that mean? Was he turning them into a volunteer rescue squad, or what? Simon and Andrew beached the boat, gave some instructions to the hired hands, and followed after Jesus. Jesus walked on down the shore to old Zebedee’s boat. He said to the brothers James and John, “C’mon, come help me fish for people.” The brothers dropped the nets they were mending, leapt up, and immediately trailed after him.

Didn’t anyone ask the obvious questions? “Catch people?” Who’ll look after the family? Who’ll keep the business going? Who’ll help out Dad? What was the urgency? Seemingly, without another thought – did they even pack provisions or take extra clothes – Simon, Andrew, James, and John, left their old lives behind. Hearing Jesus’ call, they let their lives be turned upside down, as they left the shore and trudged after Jesus. He had called, and they followed. They soon discovered that he had not called them to a life of sitting at his feet studying Torah, or of standing before the sacrificial fires reciting long prayers. He had called them to an active life: walking with him up and down the hills of Galilee, and eventually to Jerusalem. He had called them to help him proclaim that God was fulfilling God’s promises, and that a transformation of the whole world was about to take place. He asked them to accompany him as he preached, taught, and healed. He asked them to help him welcome those on the margins of society into his embrace of love.

Sarah Grimké also heard Jesus call. It took her a little longer to respond than it had Simon, Andrew, James, and John. Sarah was born in 1792 into an aristocratic planter family in South Carolina. With a plantation inland and a mansion in Charleston, the family owned over one hundred slaves. On her eleventh birthday Sarah was presented with a ten-year old slave, who was to sleep on the floor outside her bedroom door and be her personal maid. Having witnessed as a younger child the severe punishment of a slave, Sarah hated slavery even then. In front of all the guests, she disavowed the gift. Despite her uneasiness about slavery, and her growing desire to distinguish herself in the family profession of law – a road that was firmly closed to her as woman – when she was twelve, Sarah persuaded her mother to make her the godmother of her then newborn sister Angelina, the last of the Grimké’s children.

Like virtually every other southern church at the time, the Episcopal Church in South Carolina condoned slavery. Sarah dutifully attended St. Philip’s church with her family but more than once argued with its rector. In her late teens, she heard Jesus ask for her heart, while she was attending a Presbyterian church service with a friend. Thereafter, she dedicated herself to following Jesus wherever he might lead her. Surprisingly, Jesus led her north. Her father, a well-known jurist, had been diagnosed with a seemingly incurable wasting disease. A specialist in Philadelphia was recommended, and Sarah was asked to accompany her progressively weakening father. Unable to cure her father, the specialist recommended the sea air at Long Branch, New Jersey, where her father died a few weeks after arriving.

Having experienced a different way of life in the north, with blacks and whites on a more equal footing, Sarah was not eager to return to Charleston. After a brief visit home, she returned to Philadelphia, where she heard God’s call once again, this time to the Society of Friends and active work for abolition. After living and working for more than a decade with the Friends, Sarah was joined by sister Angelina. Although most of the Quakers were gradualists rather than abolitionists, Sarah and Angelina heard the call to produce anti-slavery pamphlets. Their writings attracted the attention of prominent abolitionists William Lloyd Garrison and Theodore Weld. Weld trained both sisters as speakers, and thereafter they traveled the east speaking to women’s groups in favor of abolition. Soon their talks attracted men, but prominent preachers began to denounce them for speaking publicly to men. So the Grimkés also began speaking about the rights of women. They were ardent abolitionists and feminists for the rest of their lives, consistently grounding their writings and speeches in God’s call to them. They “fished for people,” calling others to a deeper recognition of the wrongness of slavery and of the fundamental goodness and equality of all people.

Do we also hear Jesus’ call? Jesus rarely waits for us to seek him out, to ask politely if we may sit devotedly out his feet. Jesus is still on the move, still seeking to bring near the reign of God. Jesus doesn’t wait for us: he actively seeks us out, knowing the part each of us must play in the bringing in of the kingdom. As he called Simon, Andrew, James, and John, he actively calls each of us to work together with the rest of his friends for the good of all. We may not be able to leave behind our occupations, the nets and boats we need to sustain our daily lives and meet our obligations to those near and dear to us. But we can, by God’s grace, lay aside the pre-conceptions, petty disagreements and dislikes, perfectionism, lack of self-confidence, distractions, and anything else that blocks out God’s call or keeps us from responding to it. Ultimately, we realize that discipleship is not cheap, and that Jesus’ claim on us surpasses the claims of family, occupation, ethnicity, country, and even church. We can acknowledge that all of us, all of us, are called to be God’s instruments.

A Presbyterian pastor serving on the US border in Arizona tells a wonderful story from his time as a youth minister. At a summer camp, he was leading a session on the church with some children.1 He asked each child to draw a picture of the church. He assumed that they would draw pictures of church buildings. However, one child was way ahead of him. She had drawn five pictures on her paper. In the upper left corner, there was a picture of a woman in bed surrounded by people. This was her grandmother, she said, and the people were her pastor and church members praying. In the upper right corner, there was a picture of a can. This was the food that church people shared with those who are hungry, because God does not want people to go hungry. In the bottom right corner, there was a group of children playing. In the bottom left corner, there were musical notes, with people of different sizes and colors. She said that God loves all people, and that the people come to the church to sing their “thank you” to God. In the middle of the paper there was a big heart, a heart that took up all the space and drew the smaller pictures together. God is love, she said, and God asks us to love God and to love our neighbors as ourselves. This is the church into which Jesus invites us.

Do you hear Jesus’ call to join his team, fish for people, and proclaim the good news? If so, then hear the challenge given us by Methodist bishop Will Willimon.2 “I challenge you,” Willlimon says, “this next week to do a little fishing, to attempt to share your faith, perhaps even using words, with one person whom you know. Try to express why you are here. Invite someone to come here next Sunday…. Do one visible act of Christian charity to someone in need in the name of Jesus. See where it gets you.”

1. Mark S. Adams, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Gospel (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2013), 66.
2. Quoted in Synthesis, January 26, 2014, p.4.

The Team Needs All of Us

Imagine that it’s a week from today, and we’re in the Mercedes Benz Superdome in New Orleans. The place is packed with fans from both the San Francisco ‘49ers and the Baltimore Ravens, all breathlessly waiting for this historic matchup. We’ve just finished singing the “Star Spangled Banner.” Everyone is ready for the opening kickoff. It’s 6:29! Here we go! And it’s wonderful.1 As his eyes watch the ball, the kicker’s brain registers its speed, and then tells his arms and hands how to catch it. His ears pick up his teammates’ shout as to where to send the return kick. His brain tells his legs to move, and they do, both in the same direction! And all the while his heart and lungs are pounding away. Whew! Thank heavens! If any of the parts of the kicker’s body decided to call it quits, his team would be done for.

If Paul were writing today to those pesky Christians in Corinth, he could have used that image of the Super Bowl opening kick. So what was the problem in Corinth, and why was Paul so exercised in the part of his letter to them that we just heard? Paul had been one of the founders of that community, and he knew how diverse it was. Some of its members were wealthy, among the elite of this new Roman city, while others were merchants or artisans, and some were even slaves. There were Gentiles and Jews, and, of course, both women and men. They had different ideas about eating meat sacrificed in the temples, about whether they should marry or not, and how they would eat their holy meal together. They also seemed to have been given different gifts by the Holy Spirit. In particular, some people seemed to have the gift of ecstatic speech in an unknown language, “speaking in tongues.” Those who had this gift also seemed to think they were superior to those who didn’t have this gift.

Certainly Paul understood – and acknowledged – the differences among the members of this community. Even so, Paul looked at the human body, with its 206 bones, 639 muscles, and 6 pounds of skin, together with its ligaments, cartilage, veins, arteries, blood, fat, and more. And he used the image of the body – actually a common image for society in Paul’s day – to remind the Corinthians that, despite their differences, they were now part of a single organism. To be sure, they had been gifted by the Holy Spirit in their baptisms with different gifts, but, what is more important, they were now part of a single community that must work together as harmoniously as the myriad parts of the human body at its best. Just as the eye and mouth are as necessary to the body as the ear and nose, so no part of the community is more needed than any other part. Just as the stomach, intestines, and genitals are as necessary to the body as the brain, so no one in the Corinthian community, whether they can speak in tongues or not, is superior to any other member.

Yet Paul also understood well that, like the parts of the body, the members of a Christian community do not all have the same role in the community. They all work for the same purpose to build up of the community, but the Spirit has given them different gifts to help the community grow. To press home his point, Paul gives a few examples of the roles members of the community may play: apostles to proclaim the good news, prophets to pronounce God’s judgment and consolation, teachers to help Christians grow in their faith, healthcare workers to heal, servers and leaders, and speakers in tongues. No one can play all roles – not even Jesus did everything during his earthly ministry – nor should anyone envy those with different roles from their own.

Of course, we understand that players have different roles when we watch two football teams face off against each other. The quarterbacks specialize in passing, while the receivers are especially good at receiving. The player making the opening kick, and all the kickers, are excellent at kicking, while the linemen are the best blockers. What’s more important, each member of the team depends on the others to play their role as perfectly as possible. Each has specialized in the skills needed for their particular role, and each is necessary for successful play.

And are we here at St. Peter’s any different from those Christians in Corinth, or from the ‘49ers and Ravens? We too are part of a living organism. To be sure, we have our differences: in ethnicity, gender, age, occupation, history in the parish, and other aspects of our lives. But like the Corinthians, we too were all baptized into Christ, all of us received gifts from the Holy Spirit, and all of us are now part of Christ’s team. And here’s the important part: all of us have work to do so that this community may flourish. If you are sitting up and breathing, you have a role to play! None of us can do everything – even the priest – and no role is superior to any other. Yet all of us were gifted by the Holy Spirit to play the role for which God chose us.

What are some of those roles we are called to play? All of us are called to be generous with our resources – that goes without saying. Some of us were called to lead worship. Only the priest can read the Gospel, preside at the Eucharist, give absolution, and pronounce blessing. But others are needed to read the lessons, serve the chalice, and, when trained, to preach. Some are called to lead the parish in education, both of children and adults, and some are called to help form others in Christ, through sharing in smaller group settings. Equally important are those who are called to promote fellowship, through organizing potlucks, picnics, youth outings, and other social gatherings. Some are called to proclaim the good news and invite their friends, neighbors, or relatives into the fellowship of Christ’s body. Some are called to offer pastoral care to others: providing meals when needed, visiting the sick and the shut-ins, remembering those in prison, or sending out birthday cards.

Some of called to service within the parish: there would be no Eucharist without the Altar Guild, the building would fall apart without a junior warden, and our accounts – and our standing within the diocese – would be in chaos without a treasurer. Some are called to spur us to mission, to organize and work in activities such as the diaper ministry and Loaves and Fishes, to collect and deliver food to the Outreach Center, to support the Snack Pack program. Some are called to draw our attention to wider issues: to encourage us to ask why people are hungry, why people can’t afford diapers on their own, or how we can be better stewards of the earth. Some are called to remind us of the ties we have to other Christian bodies and to draw us into greater cooperation with other faith communities. Some are called to pray for others, both those needing prayer within the parish and those who are farther off. And some are called to what I call a ministry of witness, to work for the kingdom simply by sitting – in the pew week after week. They cheer up the priest and they encourage others who see their loyalty to God. David Leininger tells the story of a man who came to worship week after week without fail, even though he was profoundly deaf and could not hear what was happening. Finally, the pastor asked him why he came, when surely he wasn’t getting much out of the service. The man replied, “I just want to show the world whose side I’m on.”2 That is as important a role as any other!

My friends, you are all part of the body, you are all on the team, and you have all been called to this place by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit needs every one of you to carry out God’s plan in this place. Do you think the body doesn’t need you? Everyone matters in this place: babies, children, parents, those actively employed, those who are retired, and even those who are disabled. Don’t amputate the body. Don’t desert the team. Don’t sit back and let others play their roles without you. Don’t envy the gifts of others and wish you had their role. The Holy Spirit has called you and endowed you with a unique set of gifts and talents.

Teach us your ways, Lord,
that we may accept our own talents openly,
nurture them hopefully,
develop them faithfully,
And give them freely.3

1. I’m grateful to David E. Leininger, Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit, Series VI, Cycle C (Lima: OH, CSS, 2009), 52ff. for this analogy.

2. Leininger, 56.

3. Adapted from Ted Loder, “Teach Me Your Ways,” Guerillas of Grace (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 2005), 109

God is ...

“The word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time, saying ‘Get up, go to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim to it the message that I tell you.’” What is this Book of Jonah? A fable or a farce? A fish story or a joke? A tall story with a point? A prophetic book with just an eight-word message? All of the above?

The book of Jonah probably dates from the period after the Exile, i.e., between the fourth and second centuries BC in Judea. After seventy years in Babylon, the descendents of the Jewish exiles had returned to a Jerusalem in ruins. Their struggle to re-establish themselves as a distinct community and to rebuild Jerusalem seems to have led to extreme nationalism and parochialism among them. During this period of the Second Temple, for example, the religious establishment banned marriage with foreigners and moved to exile foreign wives. Perhaps the anonymous author of this book created the character of Jonah and depicted God’s urgent desire for him to preach repentance to the residents of Nineveh in order to reflect the parochialism of the Israelites and to persuade them to give up their narrow vision of God and God’s care. Let’s review the story this short book tells..

The story begins with God’s instruction to Jonah to “Go at once to Nineveh,” and proclaim God’s judgment. Reluctant to go the capital of the hated Assyrian enemies, Jonah boarded a ship going in the opposite direction, to Tarshish. However, God sent a great storm, threatening the boat and all the sailors. After prayers to their own gods failed, the sailors turned to Jonah and his God. Jonah then directed them to throw him overboard. Of course, God rescued Jonah by causing him to be swallowed by a great fish. Although he had deliberately flouted God’s command, in the belly of the fish Jonah prayed earnestly to God, whereupon God caused the fish to vomit Jonah up on dry land. Once again commanded by God to go Nineveh, the reluctant Jonah went to Nineveh and preached the shortest sermon on record. When the Ninevites actually repented, Jonah was angry at God for changing his mind about destroying them. Tantalizing us forevermore, the story ends with God’s response to Jonah: “… should I not care about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons … and also many animals?”

So what kind of a book is this? In both the Jewish Study Bible and the New Revised Standard Version Bible – what we hear in worship – the book of Jonah is included among what are called the Twelve Minor Prophets. Even though the book focuses first on Jonah and his ultimate change of heart and then on the repentance of Nineveh, ultimately the book of Jonah is a book of prophecy. It is a book of prophecy, because, like other books of prophecy, it has something profound to tell us about God. Actually three things about God.
The first thing that the Book of Jonah tells us about God is that God is persistent. When Jonah deliberately disobeys God’s command and boards a ship bound in the opposite direction from where God wants him to go, God persists in reaching out to him. God finds several different ways to get Jonah to have a change of heart, to deliver God’s message to the Ninevites, and to understand that God’s will ultimately cannot be thwarted or ignored. What is most important, God gives Jonah a second chance to do God’s will. And God would probably have given Jonah several more chances to do the right thing if necessary. God is a God of second chances, and what God is most persistent about is expecting and rewarding faithfulness to God’s commands.

Secondly, the Book of Jonah shows us that God is gracious. When the Gentile sailors obey God’s command and throw Jonah overboard, God responds with mercy by stilling the storm and saving the sailors from destruction. When Jonah finally delivers his eight-word sermon, he says nothing about any possible reprieve from the threatened destruction of Nineveh. Yet when the king and the people respond by fasting and putting on sackcloth, even including their animals in their observance, God responds in kind. God acknowledges the Ninevites’ repentance and turns back from God’s threatened destruction of Nineveh.

Thirdly, the Book of Jonah reminds us that God is cares for all humanity. The great prophets had indeed continually reminded their hearers of God’s love for all people and of God’s eventual intent to bring all people into covenant with God. Even so, the ancient Israelites, like most people, behaved as if God’s power and mercy were reserved for them alone. Early in the story, God demonstrates God’s love for the Gentile sailors by saving them from the storm, even though they had first appealed to their own gods. Despite Jonah’s reluctance to approach the hated enemy – and who knew if the Ninevites would even understand his language – the Book of Jonah reminds us in no uncertain terms that God’s love and mercy also extended to Nineveh, that great city, and, by implication, to all the rest of the world. Although Christians believe that the walls separating Gentiles and Jews were finally broken down only in Christ, the story of Jonah reminds us that God offers salvation to both. As one of the ancient Jewish sages might have said in response to the question of why God would send Jonah to Nineveh of all places, “God chose to send Jonah to preach repentance to Nineveh, because there is no place on earth bereft of the divine presence, not even among the foreigners in Nineveh.”

Such a tall story, such a farcical, even humorous tale as that of Jonah, has a lot to teach us about God! We learn that God is persistent, gracious, and merciful to all. We learn that God is a God of second – and third, or fourth, or tenth – chances, that God graciously responds to our attempts to seek God’s help or to repent, and that God cares not only for us and our in-group, our country, our ethnicity, our faith community, but ultimately for all humanity. Are you surprised that God is a God of second chances? Are you surprised that foreigners, that indeed all humanity, are included in God’s redemptive plan? Who might be included in God’s plans that would surprise and astound us? More to the point, to whom might we be called to go and preach God’s word? Does God’s persistence, graciousness, and care for all of humanity make a difference to us as Jesus’ disciples? Perhaps God might expect us to leave our comfort zones, go to Nineveh, fish for people, and experience the redemptive work of God in places and among people whom we might not expect to be included in God’s plan of salvation.

During the Rwandan genocide of 1994, God called Swiss missionary Philippe Galliard to tend to the sick, the suffering, and the starving survivors of the conflict. American relief worker Christine Darcas served in Chad. Of her time there, Darcas said, “As drought spread across the Sahara, I finally had the opportunity to roll up my sleeves and get into the field, to abandon my role as a bystander and make a difference.” British nurse Iain Levine worked in famine-struck areas of the Sudan and Mozambique. John Sifton, an American human rights attorney, has offered humanitarian aid in Afghanistan and Pakistan. In May 2011, Lee Hogan, co-chair of the Anglican Health network, went to Tanzania, to help establish links between St Luke’s Episcopal Health System in Houston and the hospital of the Diocese of Morogoro in Berega, Tanzania. As a result of this trip, next month, medical officers from St. Luke’s and the Baylor College of Medicine will travel to Tanzania to establish closer ties between the Houston medical centers and their Tanzanian counterparts. Closer to home, after their regular worship service, members of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Columbus go out every Sunday, rain or shine, into a vacant lot a block or two from the church. As members of the nearby homeless community gather together with them, the Rev. Lee Anne Reat presides over the Eucharist. After the service, parish members hand out sandwiches and soup to the gathered congregation. As Galliard, Darcas, Levine, Sifton, the representatives from St. Luke’s, and the parishioners of St. John’s follow God’s call, they have the assurance and the experience of the depth and breadth of God’s love for all people that Jonah conceded only reluctantly, but that we, as Jesus’ disciples, daily know deep in our hearts.

To whom is God calling you? To what is God calling this parish? Where is our persistent, gracious, and merciful God commanding us to go? “O God, you call us. We are here, not so much because we have sought you, but more because you have found us, called us, claimed us, and commanded us. Help us to have the faith in ourselves, the courage, and the trust in you, that we can board ship in the direction that you would have us go.” Amen.

Has Christ Been Divided?

Most high and holy God, pour out upon us your one and unifying Spirit, and awake in every confession of the whole church a holy hunger and thirst for unity in you; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.

What on earth was going on in Corinth? Were the members of the Christian community there so at each others’ throats that Paul was forced to write to them? Quite possibly they were. In the middle of the first century, Corinth was a thriving seaport that was home to a prosperous multi-ethnic community of both Gentiles and Jews. Consequently the Christian community that gathered around Paul and other evangelists in Corinth included people of different genders, ethnicities, social classes, and former religious allegiances, and they all had different ideas about sexual practice, divorce, worship of images, the importance of rhetoric, and how people should eat together, among other things. No wonder there were differences of opinion! And no wonder Paul felt compelled to write to the Corinthian Christians! Today, we’ve heard part of the very first section of the letter. We’ll be hearing sections from this letter through the end of next month, so we’ll get a good sense of some of the rest of the divisive issues among the Corinthians.

Let’s look at what Paul actually has to say in this opening section. First, following the required greetings, which we didn’t hear, Paul goes straight to the heart of the matter. He is rightly distressed by the divisions among the Corinthians that he has heard about. So he appeals to them to “be in agreement” and to “be united in the same mind and the same purpose.” Perhaps this was always a divided and fractious community, but Paul will not accept that situation and wants to see it changed. Second, notice that Paul addresses the Corinthians as “brothers and sisters.” He reminds them that they are now part of a new family, a family based not on the old patriarchal hierarchies, but on mutual love. Paul cares about the conflicts among the Corinthians, because he loves them as their brother, and doesn’t want to see this beloved family torn apart. Although Paul will strongly rebuke the Corinthians in later parts of this letter, he always does so out of love, because he and they are all now part of one extended family. Then Paul identifies the first issue that is causing division: “What I mean is that each of you says, ‘I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ ….” He’s almost shouting as he rebukes the Corinthians for dividing their family by choosing one or another charismatic leader, perhaps by virtue of who baptized them, rather than caring about the community as a whole. You can almost see him throw up his hands in exasperation as he asks, “Has Christ been divided?”

Does any of this sound familiar to us? Two thousand years after Paul wrote to the Corinthian Christians, we live in a deeply divided church don’t we? We’re in the middle of the week of prayer for Christian unity, but you might rightly ask, “What unity?” The western church centered in Rome and the eastern church centered in Constantinople (now Istanbul) have been irreparably separated since the year 1054. The Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century shattered the unity of the western church. Just in this country, to say nothing of the rest of the world, we find a host of Christian denominations. Some denominations reflect the different waves of immigration to this country, some came about as a result of the split between North and South in the Civil War, some have grown out of late nineteenth and early twentieth century Pentecostal movements, some trace their beginnings to a charismatic leader, and some exist for trivial reasons, e.g. differences of opinion as to whether music should be used in worship or not. Some people split off from the Episcopal Church in 1976 in opposition to the ordination of women, some in 1979 in opposition to our current prayer book, and, as we know, some in the wake of the consecration of an openly gay bishop in 2003. Similar divisions can be found in every denomination in this country and in the church in every country in the world. Surveying the church today, would Paul shout at us, “What I mean is that some of you say, ‘I belong to the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarch,’ or ‘I belong to Luther,’ or ‘I belong to the Pope,’ or ‘I joined the church through the Azusa Street revival?’” Wouldn’t he throw up his hands in exasperation and shout, “Has Christ been divided?”

Fortunately, Paul’s exasperation is not the end of his letter to the Corinthians. For Paul goes on to instruct the fractious Corinthians as to how to begin healing the divisions in their community. He reminds the Corinthians that they did not receive Christ’s saving power through any human leader: not Apollos, not Peter, not even Paul himself: “Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?” Rather, Paul reminds them that they received God’s saving grace through the Gospel. He makes it crystal clear to them that God’s saving love is best known in the Cross of Christ. And if – you can almost hear him raising his voice again – if the Corinthians focus on the sacrificial power of Christ, as demonstrated by the Cross, then they will come together as the new people that they were called by Christ to be.

Does Paul’s advice ring true for us divided twenty-first century Christians? If we focus on what we hold in common, rather than the limited truths we are so passionate about, if we give our allegiance to our crucified and risen Savior, rather than to human traditions and practices, might we be able to take the first steps in healing what our prayer book calls “our unhappy divisions?” Perhaps we’ve already taken some baby steps. Following the early ecumenical movements of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the World Council of Churches was inaugurated in 1948. Today the WCC includes 349 denominations, fellowships, and church bodies in 110 countries, and it has even been able to agree to a common statement on Baptism and the Eucharist. The ecumenical movements that began in the U.S. in the late 1960’s created out of separate bodies, among others, the United Methodist Church, the Presbyterian Church (USA), and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Episcopalians and Lutherans deepened our ties and allowed for shared communion and ministry through the Call to Common Mission in 1999. And, as you know, the canons of the Episcopal Church now allow all baptized Christians, of whatever denomination, to receive communion. Yes, we are still divided, but we have at last begun to look again to the Cross of Christ and to focus again on what unites us as members of Our Lord’s family.

What else can we concretely do, especially in this place? Perhaps the most important thing we can do is to recognize our need for fellowship around the communion table. Just as sitting down to dinner together increases our cohesion as a family, so too does receiving communion together. It’s just about impossible – or it should be – to regard someone you’ve shared communion with as a stranger. For, just as we are united with Jesus when we partake of his body and blood, so also are we bonded to each other. I’m reminded of a lovely hymn in Evangelical Lutheran Worship It’s a Eucharistic hymn entitled “Gather us In.” I’m just going share with you the second verse.

We are the young, our lives are a mystery,
we are the old who yearn for your face;
we have been sung throughout all of history,
called to be light to the whole human race.
Gather us in, the rich and the haughty,
gather us in, the proud and the strong;
give us a heart, so meek and so lowly,
give us the courage to enter the song.

What a wonderful vision for us as we gather around this table! Can we invite others to join us around the table? Perhaps too can we leave the silo of this parish and begin establishing bonds with other Episcopal parishes? Could you come to a deanery event, participate in a workshop at our diocesan conference center, or serve as a delegate to Diocesan Convention? Every time I go to a diocesan event I never cease to be encouraged by the sight of “all sorts and conditions” of people. We might even – gasp – begin establishing some ties with Episcopalians across the river!

Next we can reach out across our “unhappy divisions” to our fellow Christians in other denominations. I was so greatly moved by the gathering in this church for our community Epiphany service. Christians of several denominations came together to worship and make a joyful noise in celebration of the acknowledgement of Jesus by the Magi. As we were vesting in my office, Msgr. Myers, the pastor of St. Louis Roman Catholic church, who was our preacher, must have felt that sense of unity, because he expressed the wish that all Christians might agree on a single common date for Easter. We’re not quite there yet, but we will continue our shared community Lenten service, and Fr. Myers and I agreed to share the Blessing of the Palms in the park on Palm Sunday this year. I even persuaded the Rev. Scott Baker, the pastor of New Life Lutheran Church, to share an Easter Vigil with us. And we know that it is not only liturgy, perhaps not primarily liturgy, that unites us. Several churches share our Loaves and Fishes, and we distribute diapers at the Methodist Church through a ministry organized by Lutheran Social Services.

Towards what other opportunities for shared ministry is the Holy Spirit leading us? If we bond with each other around the altar, if we focus on our shared confession of faith in Christ Crucified and Risen, and if we join together for ministry, what else might we be able to do to bring the Kingdom of Heaven nearer?