Of One Heart and Soul

St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, 15 April 2012

“Oh, how good and pleasant it is,” the psalmist says (Psalm 133:1, NRSV), “when brethren live together in unity!”

Today we are not so likely to follow that proclamation with a metaphor of oil on our heads and running down onto the collars of our robes! I’m not sure what our equivalent image of well-being and contentment might be. Perhaps merely an easily tapped supply of clean water for our morning shower—a blessing much of the world does not, in fact, enjoy.

Moving from the Psalm to this morning’s scene from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 4:32-35, NRSV), we find another image of peace and harmony. The Lukan playwright describes the community of early Christians as being “of one heart and soul.”

What is interesting to me about this story is what the author focuses on as evidence and illustration of the early church’s unity. Notice that it has little to do with doctrine or beliefs—other than that the apostles were testifying to the resurrection.

We know, historically speaking, that many great controversies about doctrine were yet to come. We know that the councils of the church that resolved those controversies did not happen until many years after this scene from Acts.

Rather, the evidence and illustration of unity among early believers laid out in this story is that they had eliminated economic inequality—at least within the Christian community—by sharing everything they had.

This is surely a more startling image for us today than oil running down our chin onto our shirt collar!

The online publication “Business Insider” recently published charts illustrating what they label “15 mind-blowing facts” about economic inequality in the U.S. But the data that stuck with me comes from a couple of economists, one at Harvard Business School and the other at Duke University, who studied what people think the wealth gap in the U.S. is, what they think it should be, and what it actually is.

I was not surprised to learn that we think the gap should be smaller than it actually is. What was rather surprising is that people in general apparently are pretty ignorant of how big the wealth gap in the U.S. is.

In other words, a large random sample of people from a wide spectrum of demographic groups estimated the wealth gap in the U.S. to be 25% narrower than it actually is. That’s a hugely significant error in perception according to all statistical measures of significance.

And the gap between what people hold as ideal versus what actually is? A little over 50%. In other words, to achieve the wealth distribution we say we hold ideal according to this study, a bit more than half of the wealth of our society needs to shift from the top 20% of people to the bottom 60% of people.

Stunning indeed. But I don’t think this story from the Acts of the Apostles is meant to endorse any one economic system over another. I don’t think Holy Scripture in general should be taken as endorsing particular political or economic systems.

Rather, I believe the stories of Jesus and his early followers teach us what to value. They teach us how we ought to relate to God and each other. They teach us what our priorities ought to be. And they leave the details of how up to us.

Maybe that’s where the expression, “the devil is in the details” comes from, because we humans sure know how to fight and fuss over the details of how to get something done!

But you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m okay that we humans must debate and disagree and question politicians and question each other and accept some plans and reject others and change our minds… and all of that.  I’m okay with it because it is how we learn and grow and overcome our own inherent self-centeredness.

Show me a person who cannot change his mind, a person who cannot modify her position in light of new data, a person who cannot even hear and consider an alternative point of view, and I’ll show you a small, anxious mind trapped in its own fears and limitations.

I have a friend who decided a few years ago that her inherited religion was not serving her contemporary needs. And so she did what so many do today, she went “church shopping.”

One of the first churches she visited piqued her interest and so she joined the adult Christian education class. The third or fourth Sunday she attended the class she was becoming comfortable enough to ask a question. The topic was something that she had often wondered about and so she posed her question. Without missing a beat, the Sunday School teacher turned to her and said, “We’re not here to argue.”

My friend shut her mouth, sat respectfully through the remainder of the class, then got up and walked out, never to return. Today she’s an Episcopalian!

Today’s Gospel lesson is offered to us as evidence of the resurrection of Jesus the Christ. The author himself is explicit about his purpose: “These [things] are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah” (John 20:19-31, NRSV).

We could talk about many aspects of this passage. Indeed, we could debate a number of things, like what kind of body Jesus had post resurrection, such that it still bore the wounds of crucifixion yet he could pass through locked doors.

Instead, let us simply observe that Thomas the questioner, Thomas who rejects the perception of the other disciples, is present the second time Jesus appears. That means he was not thrown out of the group for questioning and challenging and rejecting what had quickly become the dominant view among the disciples. 

Moreover, Jesus himself does not rebuke Thomas, but patiently invites him to check out the evidence. And not just to check it out visually.., but to touch it!

The Increduility of St. Thomas, by Caravaggio

What a totally loving and accepting invitation! We humans tend to protect our wounds, to “nurse our wounds” we say, even to hide them from each other. Yet here is Jesus saying to Thomas the doubter, “Put your finger here.. Reach out your hand and put it in my side.”

How will we define Christian unity today? Is the resurrection of Jesus the Christ still powerful enough to overcome disagreements about doctrine, and to enable us to lovingly engage each other’s questions and challenges? Will future generations see evidence of our testimony to the resurrection in our ministry to a broken society and world?

AMEN

I Want You: A sermon for 18 March 2010*

Last week when asked if I was interested in preaching tonight, I was fresh from consecutive Sundays of what had seemed to be reasonably successful sermons, here at St. Alban’s two weeks ago and last Sunday at St. Thomas’. And so I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

It was not until two days ago that I realized the readings I would be preaching from are in celebration of a saint—Cyril of Jerusalem—whose feast day is March 18 on Roman Catholic and Episcopal church calendars, but who does not even appear on the Lutheran church calendar, which doesn’t recognize anyone outside of the Bible as a saint with a capital S in any case!

I’m sure Garrison Keilor could do something really creative and funny with this situation. For me it’s a lesson: Beware of becoming proud of preaching. You will live to regret it!

Fortunately, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is an equal opportunity message. It is no respecter of denominations. This evening’s lesson from Luke is an excellent “unity” passage.

But before I go into that, I do want to say a few words about Cyril of Jerusalem. He is an important figure in the history of all Christians, and he is especially important to those of us who have similar liturgical traditions.

Cyril was Bishop of Jerusalem for most of the second half of the 4th Century. He is credited with developing liturgies we still use today during Holy Week. We know this not only from his own writing, but also because of a Spanish nun by the name of Egeria (i-JEER-ee-uh). Egeria made a late 4th-Century pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and, to our great benefit, she kept an account of her travels in the form of a long letter to her sisters back home.

She was in Jerusalem at a time when the church year we are so familiar with today, with its seasons of Advent and Lent, and principal feasts like Christmas and Easter, was still in formation and becoming widely adopted. In fact, she helped with the dissemination of those early church practices, such as Bishop Cyril’s liturgies for Holy Week, by her detailed descriptions in an eyewitness account. In fact, she’s still doing it due to the wonders of modern technology. You can buy her account in book form today on amazon.com, complete with many annotations that demonstrate how historians have pored over it.

It’s also important that when Cyril was Bishop of Jerusalem, the early church was in great turmoil. The divisive issue of that day was how to understand Jesus, specifically how to understand the divinity of Jesus.

To put it as simply as possible, one pole of the debate is expressed in the Nicene Creed we still use today: Jesus the Christ is “eternally begotten of the Father” and “of one Being with the Father.”

The folks at the opposite pole of the debate in the 4th Century believed that the Son was divine but lesser than the Father and not eternal. In their words, “there was a time when the Son was not.”

I daresay most of us don’t debate that issue much anymore. It seems pretty well settled to us. But in the time of Cyril, it was not. In his 36 years as a bishop, Cyril was exiled three times by superiors from opposite poles of the debate. Ultimately he spent nearly half his years as Bishop in exile.

In other words, Cyril, being a moderate, managed to rile both extremes of the debate. So I admire Cyril. I have often thought that people who provoke both sides of a polarized debate must be doing something right.

Every time I look at church history, I am struck anew by two things. On the one hand is a history of divisive issues, issues that caused blood to be shed in many cases, and in others, the splits and splintering into the many denominations we know today.

On the other hand I also see an extraordinary continuity in such things as the worship practices many of us share. And not just those denominations represented in this worship space this evening.

A few years ago I was privileged to go to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip along with a handful of folks from St. Thomas’. One of my lasting memories of that trip is worshiping with brothers and sisters in the faith, each of us speaking in our own language but united by the familiarity of our common liturgy.

To a great extent, whether we see division or unity depends on where we focus our attention . The church as a whole and every denomination has plenty of divisive issues facing it today. It also has plenty of unifying beliefs and practices. What you see depends on what you focus on.

Looking at the history of the church helps keep these things in perspective. But an even better way to keep things in perspective is to focus on the Gospel message. In tonight’s passage from Luke, Jesus is speaking to some of his disciples. We do not know how many or which ones in particular.

Earlier in this last chapter of Luke, Jesus appears to two men on the road to Emmaus. After he leaves them, they rush back to Jerusalem to join “the eleven and their companions,” we are told in verse 33. I’m guessing the women who went to the tomb and are named at the beginning of the chapter are among them, but we just don’t know. Luke has a much more important story to tell.

Suddenly Jesus appears. He once again explains the scriptures to them and this time, because he has opened their minds, they get it. He establishes a context, reminding them that what has happened is not an accident of history but fulfillment of the Divine plan. He repeats the essential elements of the Good News: Christ has died, Christ is risen, repentance and forgiveness of sins must be preached to all nations.

And then he puts it to them: “YOU are witnesses,” he says. “You are witnesses of these things.”

Occasionally I wish we liturgical denominations weren’t quite so traditional in our worship liturgies. This evening, for example, it would be kind of fun to have the advantage of gigantic screens here at the front of the church, high on the wall on both sides of the pulpit.

If I had such a resource, I know exactly what I would put up there tonight. It would be that much-published poster of Uncle Sam, with his white curly locks and goatee, his stovepipe hat bedecked with stars, his red and white striped trousers and blue tailcoat. He leans toward the viewer making stern eye contact. He points his finger right in our face. “I WANT YOU,” he declares, in all capital letters across the bottom of the poster. And we all know that he isn't addressing us as southerners, or from Iowa. "I want you" means every one of us.

Jesus does not address us as Episcopalians or Lutherans or Roman Catholics or Baptists or whatever. He does not address us as black or white or Hispanic. He does not address us as U.S. Americans or Africans or Europeans.

He addresses us as believers, as a community of faith in all of our diversity. “You are witnesses,” he says. Go. Tell the good news.

AMEN

*This sermon was preached to a congregation of several denominations participating in a Unity in the Spirit ecumenical Lenten series.