Unity, Not Uniformity

In her sermon on Sunday, my colleague Jo Barrett focused on Jesus' prayer that we all might be one as he and the Father are one. Although she did not say it, it seemed clear to me, sitting in a pew, that she understood that the unity of the Trinity is a unity of love. I think the language of the Nicene Creed, drawing as it does on categories from Greek philosophy, is not at all helpful today if it ever was. What meaning does "one in being" or "consubstantial" have for us? Apart from love these terms sound very hollow.

 

If the unity of the Trinity is not a matter of uniformity, then the unity of the disciples of Jesus need not be a matter of uniformity. Just as it is orthodox teaching that the Father is not the Son, so it might be considered orthodox to say that Baptists are not Roman Catholics and to mean that both are recognizable as members of the one Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church which is the Body of Christ in the world. 

 

Several years ago when I was teaching at a Roman Catholic high school I spent some time thinking about what gift the various denominations of Christians  offered to the Church and the world. I am thankful for the social teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, for the Baptist's clear teaching about the necessity of a mature commitment to Christ, and for other gifts that have enriched my life as an Anglican.

 

In her serm0n Jo used her own experience of being awakened by the dawn chorus of birds as a image for the offerings of praise that the different churches in our community make. Reflecting on that image now I remember being part of a chorus several years ago. Another member told the director that she didn't think we sounded right. The director asked her to stand next to him as the chorus repeated what we had just sung. When we stopped singing she said that the music sounded right from that perspective. Perhaps we can't hear how the offerings of all the different denominations become one. Perhaps only God can hear that.

Memorial Day

Yesterday I was talking with a couple of friends at church about Memorial Day. Not surprisingly the conversation was not about picnics but about the memorials our nation has built to honor those who died in our wars. What I found a bit surprising was the interest that both of these men had in the way our country has honored the women who served in our armed forces. In one case, that of the women who flew airplanes during World War II from the factory to the air bases, the honoring took a while in coming.

 

Honoring those who served and died has not always been an easy matter. In the years after the Civil War some communities that sent men to serve on both sides were involved in fights over which war dead they should honor. After Viet Nam many of those who had supported the war and of those who opposed it failed to welcome back those who had served with the gratitude and honor they deserved. 

 

There are lessons to be learned from our nation's less than perfect history. Perhaps the most important one on this Memorial Day is that those who serve, even in wars that we oppose or wars that end in defeat, are owed our thanks.

Equal Value - Equal Claim

This past week I was at Episcopal Divinity School for my final meetings as the Trustee elected by the alumni/ae. As we prepared for Thursday's Commencement we were treated to a Wednesday afternoon panel of the honorary degree recipients. The Rev. Gay Clark Jennings, President of the Episcopal Church's House of Deputies spoke abouit her commitment to the principle that is the title of this blog post. For Jennings, and for me, all members of the Church have equal value, and therefore equal claim on the Church's resources. That Gospel principle was clearly at work in the description of the life of the Church recorded by Luke in the Acts of the Apostles: Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds^[j] to all, as any had need. (2:43-45) While I am sure that Luke's picture of the earliest communities of the followers of Jesus is somewhat romanticized, his inclusion of this description points to how important this aspect of community life was to Luke's community, even if it rarely if ever lived up to this ideal.

 

Christian communities have rarely lived up to that ideal, nor have Christians in our society today advocated for that ideal as one for our country. Only a few of us have suggested that the resources of this country are to be shared by all. Only a few of us have made the connection between our theology of creation - The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it (Psalm 24:1) - and our social ethics.  Making that connection is, of course, not enough. There remains the complicated work of engaging in public policy discussions about the role of government in meeting the needs of all of us. Should government provide, as President Nixon proposed, a guaranteed family income? Should government provide enough food assistance so that people do not go to bed hungry? Or should government leave to the churches and other institutions responsibility for providing for the needs of the least among us? 

 

In the spirit of Episcopal Divinity School I take a both and approach to such questions. I believe that religious communities have an important role to play in the work of distributive justice and that it would be a mistake to leave the work entirely to government agencies. Not only are we called to serve those in need, but in serving them we can discover the necessity of moving beyond service to advocacy. We can begin to ask, as Dom Hélder Câmara did a generation ago, why so many people are poor. We can begin the hard work of social analysis to discover the systemic causes of poverty. And we can advocate loudly and persistently for the elimination of those systemic causes.

 

Engaging in this work may well get us into hot water. Dom Hélder Câmara was accused of being a communist when he asked that question, and we are likely to be called, if not communists, unrealistic or utopian. But is it unrealistic to work for a world in which children aren't condemned to being hungry? Is it unrealistic to believe that those who are in the image of God should not be abandoned to lives of poverty? Is it unrealistic to hope and pray and work for God's will being done and God's reign of justice coming on this good earth? No, it isn't unrealistic. It is, in fact, the most realistic of hopes imaginable.  

         

 

       

#BringBackOurGirls

This coming Sunday's Gospel includes a difficult saying: "Do not let your hearts be troubled." How can our hearts not be troubled when hundreds of girls are kidnapped by armed thugs in Nigeria? How can our hearts not be troubled when people mock those who engage in hashtag activism, e.g.,  #BringBackOurGirls? How can our hearts not be troubled when we remember the events of September 11, 2001? To paraphrase something our son once said, if we're not troubled we're not paying attention.

 

Jesus, who challenges us in this difficult saying, was often troubled as he witnessed the suffering of those around him. So it's not about hiding our heads in the sand, nor about looking away when we get close to suffering, nor about remaining silent about injustice. It is, I believe, about drawing upon the strength of our relationships - with God, with one another - and not falling into despair that can immobilize us. It is about doing the things we can to challenge injustice, to relieve suffering, doing what we can now while having the long view that Martin Luther King, Jr. had when he said that the moral arc of the universe bends towards justice.

 

So we carry on, knowing that the little that each of us can do today may not have a dramatic impact on the world, but knowing also that surprising things can happen when we speak up or show up or act up.

The 10th Commandment Meets the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Steps

The summer I turned 16 Susie became my girlfriend. She was a wonderful person but I have to admit that one of the reasons that I wanted her to become my girlfriend was that two of my friends were also courting her. When she settled for me - and it was settling - I exulted in my victory.

Those competitive feelings are not at all surprising. We live in a society which might be said to be based on violating the Tenth Commandment - thou shall not covet. Most advertising tries to get us to want something that someone else has, something that will make our lives, if not perfect, a lot better. And it's not only things that we covet. I find myself wishing that I had that person's good looks - these days it's often that person's head of hair - or that person's talents. or that person's prayer life, or that person's reputation.

That kind of wishing, that covetousness is deadly. It saps my energy and it keeps me from seeing how many and wonderful blessings I have received. It keeps me from recognizing that I have enough. When Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, calls us to a deeper righteousness, the righteousness of not committing adultery in our hearts, he is calling to overcome covetousness, to stop looking at the blessings that other's have and wanting them and start looking at the blessings that we have received.

But how am I to do that? Certainly not by any ability of my own. But when I can admit that I am powerless over covetousness and that my life is unmanageable, when I can believe that God's power can restore me to sanity, and when I can turn my life over to God, a miracle happens. I stop thinking that if I had...whatever, life would be perfect. God empowers me to see myself and others around me as God sees us, as beloved and blessed children of God, and to know that I have enough.