"Who Are These People?"
August 21, 2005: 14th Sunday after Pentecost, Year A
The Rev. John MacIver Gage, co-pastor
United Church on the Green, UCC: New Haven, CT
www.newlights.org

Scripture:
Romans 12:1-8
I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate in cheerfulness.

Sermon:
You know, a lot of people don't like the Apostle Paul. They find him obnoxious, overbearing, even offensive. And yeah, alright, he is. He's also right a lot. Don't you hate that? He's like that friend who's right more often than you care to admit, because, well, he's just such a jerk about it. Now, to be sure, Paul's not right about everything. I am not a particular fan of his bully pronouncements about, say, the role of women in worship, or the obedience due even ungodly governments. But I figure, hey, given the nearly two thousand years that separate us, I'm willing to cut him a little slack. Besides, he didn't know his letters would be passed down through the ages as holy writ. One preacher to another, I hope he'd extend me the same courtesy.

But we owe so much to Paul. He truly was the "Apostle to the Gentiles," and, historically speaking, without him it's possible that the Way of Jesus would have remained just another minority voice within a larger Judaism. Others, like Peter and Philip, dabbled in preaching the gospel to non-Jews, but it was Paul who took on the project wholesale. It was Paul who defended his gentile mission before the mother church in Jerusalem. It was Paul who traveled throughout the Mediterranean world planting and nurturing congregations along the way. As a result, though Peter would be named Bishop of Rome, the Church in the West bears Paul's indelible imprint.

More than any other, Paul took the teachings of Jesus and fleshed them out into a way of life, a community of faith. He poured all his energy—the considerable energy of a convert newly convicted of his own past by the overwhelming power of God's grace—into describing how the followers of Jesus should relate to one another and the larger world around them. He was concerned not with the nitty-gritty details of worship, say, or the daily distribution of food, but with the guiding spirit of this new community of those whom God called together in Christ—which is just what "church", ekklesia, means in Greek, "those who have been called out." What way of life should distinguish these Christians from the innumerable other religious movements with whom they shared the world stage? That's was Paul's question...

Over and over again Paul insisted that the being church was about participating in organized religion. Now before you get your hackles up, all you rare birds and odd ducks gathered here, let me say a word in defense of organized religion. We all know that organized religion has gotten a bad rap over the last few... centuries... particularly among so-called liberal thinkers of the last fifty years in these United States. I mean, how many times has someone said to you, "I'm against organized religion, but I'm a very spiritual person"? Now, be honest, how many times have you been the one saying it?

It's true, the sins of the historical church are manifold, as are those of any collection of frail and faulty human beings, like, say, governments... or families. Living together well, in peace and harmony, is difficult even with the best of intentions—perhaps especially with the best of intentions. In our organized communities we face daily temptations to exclude, to abuse, to lord it over others, or to let the institution ossify around us until we are those dead and deadly "whitewashed tombs" Jesus rebuked in Matthew 23:27. Maybe our fellow Yankee individualist Henry David Thoreau had it right. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to chuck it all, say "so long" to the church, and head out to the pond? Given a choice, who wouldn't want to strike out on their own, individual, personal spiritual path? Who wouldn't want to be a lone-ranger disciple of Christ??

There's only one problem: there's no such thing. I mean, sure, you can leave the church and strike out on your own spiritual path. God knows you can be a good person without being a member of a church—and conversely, that being a member of a church doesn't make you a good person—but you can't chuck the church and still be a follower of Christ. You may want to some days, many days, but you can't. In her book Amazing Grace: a Vocabulary of Faith, author Kathleen Norris reflects on just this dilemma. "I have come to suspect" she notes, with some wry humor, "that when people complain about 'organized' religion what they are really saying is that they can't stand other people." But like it or not, being a Christian means being part of an organized community of faith. This certainly was Paul's point of view, and on this I agree with him.

Not that I don't think many of our sisters and brothers in other denominations have over-read Paul on this point. When Roman Catholics and Presbyterians and others quote Paul's injunction in 1 Corinthians 14:40 that the church should do all things "decently and in order" as warrant for their heavy emphasis on top-down conformity in belief and practice, I remember the words of my worship professor in seminary who said, "I really think Paul just meant 'take turns.'" Other churches have overemphasized Paul's subsequent comments about the shape of relations within the community—say between men and women, or parents and children—and created communities malformed by internal oppression.

Again, I know am disposed to be charitable toward Paul, but I don't think this is what he had in mind; but, there is no getting around the fact that Paul firmly believed Christians should relate to one another in communities, in churches, organized under the image of the body of Christ. Over and over again in his writings Paul articulates his body-theology of church. He describes a spiritual community wherein differences are not swallowed up by the collective—this is church we're talking about, not the Borg of Star Trek fame, and if you can't tell the two apart, you've got bigger problems than Paul's epistles to worry about—but a body of many parts integrated into a living, breathing whole. It is a recurring figure in his letters to the Ephesians, Colossians, and Philppians, and in First Corinthians 12 and here in Romans 12, he waxes rhapsodic on the theme. Listen to his words again: "We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us," he says, but "as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another."

Now, a lot of people poo-poo Paul for, well, for not being Jesus, really. And, it's true, he's not. But that's not his fault. Jesus was... is... the holy one of God, our resurrected savior and our eternal friend, and Paul... wasn't. But I think Jesus agrees with Paul here, or rather, Paul agrees with Jesus. For as much as many popular modern writers want to cast him as either some of kind of self-help guru, on one hand, or self-denying Zen master, on the other, Jesus' message was not about denying the self or idolizing the self, but how we, our-selves, can together become part of God's own body politic, the kingdom of God. The world described in the faith of Jesus is a community of unlikely neighbors—Samaritans, lepers, Pharisees, prostitutes, and tax collectors, little children and old women. And his vision is still operative for us today. Through the power of the Holy Spirit the living Christ stands in our midst and speaks to us still, asking us, "Won't you be my neighbor?"

So, if we at United Church on the Green are a called to be a church like this, a neighborhood of grace, a body with many members—an organ-ized body, get it?—if we are called to become "one body in Christ, and individually members one of another," you may find yourself asking, "Who are these people? Who are these people with whom I am sharing this meeting house, these pews, even if just for today or perhaps year after year after year?"

The sad part is, by and large, we don't know... not really. All too often we come here on Sunday mornings to have our private devotions together, as though meeting by accident Sunday after Sunday. We sit in our pews—conveniently outfitted with cute little doors and cute little locks—as though enduring an hour-long elevator ride, looking neither to the left nor to the right, letting the sermon and the hymns and the prayers wash over us like Muzac, biding our time till at last we arrive in the lobby once more and are free to leave. Of course, there is that one moment of touchy-feely stuff at the beginning, when under the rubric of "passing the peace of Christ" we are forced to touch one another and mutter a quick, "good morning." But that doesn't last long, and if we arrive late enough, we can miss it altogether. Oh, and there's coffee hour downstairs, a chance for more "small talk," but that's not mandatory. We can skip it. If we time it just right we can make it in and out in just under an hour and not have to talk to a single other person, except perhaps to play "pet the pastor" on the way out and say, "Thank you, I enjoyed the sermon."

I'm painting an extreme picture, of course, to earn an uneasy laugh but also to make you think. You're likely not this extreme in your own behavior and thinking about church—at least not every week. But how close do you come, really? There are bits of this task of church-ly embodiment we do really well here, such as the wonderful way we share our joys and concerns in our prayer time together every Sunday. But there are other ways in which we fall far short, ways in which we, the United Church, act more like the Untied Church on the Green.

Paul may have been something of a jackass, but he knew human nature. He knew what he was doing, all those centuries ago, when he gave First Church, Corinth a stern talking-to on just this point. "Listen," he said, "God arranged the members in the body, each of one of them, as God chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you,' nor again the head to the feet, 'I have no need of you.'" In a spectacular act of confidence that ought to fill us with humility, God has arranged the church in such a way that we need each other to do the work of faith.

So I ask you, just how well do you know these people around you? For to the Christian way of thinking, your salvation depends in some part on these very people. It is only together that we become the body of Christ. Well, this morning we're going to work on just that. We're going to work on getting to know one another a little better. Yes, we're going to have a little congregation participation in this morning's sermon. So, in Jesus' name—in Paul's name—I ask you to cut me a little slack and play along. So wake up, shake it out, and let's get going. A reminder for those of you for whom it's been a while since you were in the third grade: Remember to listen to all the instructions before starting to act on them.

• First, if you have attended worship at United Church more than once, more than just today, please get up and move to sit next to someone whose first and last name you do not know. There's an opportunity for some grace here. You might pick someone with whom you've chatted at coffee hour more than once but whose name has never quite stuck in your head. This could be an "olly olly in free" moment to correct that. Or you could be more adventurous and sit next to someone you do not know at all. Our first time guests get a bye on this round, as do those for whom moving would be physically difficult, because, well, that's the way it works in church... or should work. The burden of being welcoming should fall not on newbies but on long-timers. Christ asks us who are "inside" already to move outward to welcome those whom God is calling next; in the same way, God calls those of us who are able to make room for those who are not.
• Ok, now that you're facing someone new, just what is that person's name? Wait! Why do you have to ask? Could it be that some of you are not wearing a nametag? If so, I quote for you the immortal words of our Moderator, June Richards, who once asked a senior member of this congregation, "Do you have a problem with nametags?" Well, do you? Yes, I know it's something of a hassle to stop on your way in and write out a new one every week, but don't even talk to me about getting permanent ones. We tried that, and you didn't use those either. So what's the deal? You know, some people might say it's a subtle way long-timers lord it over short-timers, not wearing a nametag. After all, if you're not wearing one, you must think everyone should know your name. But I wouldn't say that. Still regardless of how long we've been here, there is no better way to put an end to the awkward what'shernameagain problem once and for all. Plus, it is simply part of making the other person feel comfortable and welcome here. So, he asks, offering grace, not judgment, who doesn't have a nametag? Raise your hand, and Louise and I will make sure you get one... and use it.
• Next we come to the heart of today's practice round of How to Be Church, the Pauline Way. Ask the person sitting with you two things. First ask them to share with you something that has caused them concern in the past month. Not something that annoyed them—so bad drivers and long waits for tables in restaurants are out—but something that caused them real concern. It can be personal or public, either way, you choose. Then, once you've gotten a chance to share a concern, share a joy. Again, not something that made you happy—no parking spaces right in front of the bank or winning tennis matches—but something large or small that made your heart quiet and still and full-to-bursting all at the same time, if only for a moment. Go ahead. Take a moment and talk amongst yourselves.
• Now we arrive at the very hardest part of today's exercise, so listen to all the instructions before you try it. This is the furthest we'll stretch our comfort zones this morning, so it's okay if it feels awkward, but I encourage you to try. I want you to touch one another while we pray—respectfully, carefully, appropriately, of course—which means you're going to have to take a moment to discuss this. Let that other person tell you whether they're comfortable holding hands or receiving a touch on the shoulder or maybe even the head. Don't do it without asking. My guess is they're going to be more than willing to tell you. As uncomfortable as it may be, this is a way of physicalizing the sharing we've just done and what Paul calls becoming "individually, members one of another." When we become church, when we become the body of Christ, we are still ourselves, but we are woven together in new ways—respectful, careful, appropriate ways, of course, but also real, tangible. So as soon as you get the boundaries worked out, try it.
• And now, we'll pray, but instead of starting off with our usual dialogue—you know, "The Lord be with you/ And also with you/ Let us pray"—let's be just that much more personal. Let's use this new friend's name and make it a real dialogue. So at the risk of sounding like a scene out of Blazing Saddles, it'll go something like this: "The Lord be with you, State Their Name/ And also with you, State Their Name/ Let us pray." Ready? On your mark, get set, pray:

O holy God, in Christ you showed the world you were not only high up and far away but present to us in the very warp and woof of life. You revealed the ways you have woven your eternal life in and among and through us since first you created us. You have made us part of you, and you have made yourself part of us. Help those of us you have called into your church to live this sign in the ways we relate to each other, no longer strangers or foreigners but neighbors, a community alive with difference and bound together in love. Teach us day by day better to be one body, the body of Christ in the world today, and individually members one of another. Turn our hearts to one another even as we turn our eyes and our ears, that we might know one another better and so together work out the shape of our salvation, which is guaranteed in your love for us all. In this moment of intimacy with you, we pray not only for ourselves but also for our friends, for their concerns and their joys, for their lives and ours, the life of all your church. In the good and strong name of Jesus we pray. Amen.