I recently read a story about an encounter that I’d like to share with you this morning.
The author writes: I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing
on the edge, about to jump off. So I ran over and said, “Stop! Don’t
do it! . . . There’s so much to live for!” He said, “Like
what?” I said, “Well, are you religious or atheist?” He said,
“Religious.” I said, “Me too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?”
He said, “Christian.”
I said, “Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?” He said, “Protestant.”
I said, “Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?” He said, “Baptist!”
I said, “Wow! Me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church
of the Lord?” He said, “Baptist Church of God!” I said, “Me
too! Are you original Baptist Church of God, or Reformed Baptist Church of God?
He said, “Reformed Baptist Church of God!” I said, “Me too!
Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist
Church of God, reformation of 1915?” He said, “Reformed Baptist
Church of God, reformation of 1915!” I said, “Die, heretic scum,”
and pushed him off the bridge.
This little story is a little snapshot – the way I think our Christian Church must appear to the folks who are watching us from the outside.
Today is Pentecost, the day when we celebrate the gift of the Spirit and the birth of the church. Today we remember the coming of the Spirit in flames and wind to enliven the hearts of the grieving disciples, to let them speak in all the languages of the world, to let them spread the good news of God’s love for the world. Today we remember how the Spirit sets our hearts on fire with love for God and for each other. Today we remember that we are God’s children, called to reach out to our brothers and sisters, called to share the peace Christ shared with the disciples and shares with us each day. Today we remember who we are called to be in the church, and today we notice yet again how we have missed the mark.
The first act of the infant Church was to speak the Good News of God’s love for all people in words that all could hear and understand. And the book of Acts gives us some indication that speaking, hearing and understanding were a large part of the early Church. But scripture and tradition tell us that state of affairs didn’t last very long. Before the end of the first century, Christians were squabbling over which belief was right, accusing each other of heresy, dividing into smaller and narrower groups, meeting in councils to hash out who was right and who was wrong, who had the truth and who was operating under false assumptions.
The Nicene Creed, the statement of beliefs that we repeat each Sunday, was the result of the Roman emperor’s frustration at the havoc. He called the council and essentially told the leadership of the various Christian faith groups not to come out until they had agreed on a way to describe the Christian faith.
Anyone looking around the world at the church – and at people of other faith traditions – might easily agree with Jonathan Swift’s statement: “We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.”
Schism and division have marked the Christian community since our very beginning.
Over the centuries – and especially in the last couple of centuries –
this habit of ours of separation whenever we disagree has resulted in a proliferation
of denominations within the Christian Church. The Anglican Communion seems to
me to have been less beset with this tendency to separation than other groups,
perhaps in part due to the political savvy of Elizabeth I of England, who brought
peace to England and set a new direction for the Church of England by supporting
– and enforcing – a middle ground that included both catholic and
protestant thinking and practice.
Despite our relative stability as an institution, the Anglican Communion and the Episcopal Church have had our difficulties. In the last 200 years, we have fought – and in some cases come to schism – over issues such as slavery, women’s suffrage, civil rights, the peace movement, ordination of women, and the new prayer book and hymnal. Some people have left as we have incorporated change; most have stayed in this church which offers us the broad range of belief and allows us to listen to God’s voice in continuing revelation to each of us. Now we face another issue: whether baptized Christians who are homosexual are somehow less than other baptized Christians.
In 10 days, the bishops of the Episcopal Church and deputies from each diocese will convene for General Convention, the triennial meeting of lay and ordained people which sets the course for our church. As usual, there will be many resolutions, a good smattering of proposed changes to the canon law which guides our relationships and our worship, and a lot of prayer and fellowship. There will also be arguments – primarily over our church’s response to the Windsor Report, which was the response of the Anglican Communion to the last General Convention’s agreement to consent to the consecration as bishop of Gene Robinson, an openly gay man living in a committed relationship.
In the Anglican Communion, we are struggling to maintain our ties to each other, we are struggling to live in the tension that allows persons with widely diverse belief to come to the same table, we are struggling to live in the tension that allows us to hear the Spirit in the context of our own cultural milieu. There are days when it seems the Episcopal Church will ultimately find ourselves outside the Anglican Communion. There are other days when it seems that the Spirit is intent on bringing us all into a life in Christ that we might never have imagined.
Last Monday, I experienced an event that gives me hope that we will find our
way into the peace that Christ brought to us and commanded that we take into
the world. Last Monday, I went to prison. I was one of the lucky ones –
thanks be to God – who got to go home at the end of the day. Monday was
the closing day of Kairos at the Correctional Medical Facility in Vacaville.
Kairos is a cursillo experience for incarcerated people –
three days of experiencing God’s love through the care of other people
– most of whom are strangers. At the closing ceremony, graduates of previous
weekends come to the chapel to greet those who are just completing the weekend
and to welcome them into the larger Christian fellowship of the prison. The
graduates have an open-mic time, a time when they can say what the weekend has
meant to them. The chapel is filled with inmates, members of the Kairos team,
and people like me who show up for the joy of the occasion. I don’t think
you could find a more diverse group of people gathered in any one spot on this
earth. There were all possible ethnicities, orientations, levels of education
among those present.
At several points in the closing, a speaker would call out a question to the rest of us:
Who is the church?
The response from 150 voices was thunderous: WE ARE THE CHURCH!
Yes. We are the church. In all our diversity, in all our differences, in all our difficulties. We are the Church. The Body of Christ. The love of God made present in human flesh.
There are some little pieces of paper on the narthex table. These papers have a prayer for those who are preparing for the work of General Convention. I invite you to take a copy of the prayer and to pray for those who will be doing this work. Let us pray now:
God our Wisdom, who eternally makes all things new: encourage by your Holy
Spirit
those who prepare for General Convention to labor together for the building
up of your world and your Church; counsel them when to act and when to wait;
turn their hearts always toward those in greatest need, and away from their
own preoccupations and fears;
help them never forget that love and mercy are your greatest gifts given us
all to offer one another as we see in them Jesus Christ who alone is our joy,
our way, our truth, and our life. Amen.
Who is the church?
Congregation: WE ARE THE CHURCH!
Who is the church?
Congregation: WE ARE THE CHURCH!
Who is the church?
Congregation: WE ARE THE CHURCH!
Thanks be to God.