Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, rcl yr b, 2021
St. John’s Stay-at-Home
2 SAMUEL 7:1-14; PSALM 89:20-37; EPHESIANS 2:11-22; MARK 6:30-34, 53-56
In Christ Jesus, you are built together spiritually
into a dwelling place for God. Ephesians 2:22
One of my guilty pleasures is reading the About Us tab on virtually any website I visit. I go there not only for the helpful information I find, but also to see how organizations or businesses see themselves, or perhaps more accurately, how they want to be seen by others. It is usually a very revealing read, and not without considerable irony as lofty ideals meet with reality. Enjoying the irony too much is the guilty part of my guilty pleasure.
A couple of weeks ago, I had to write an About Us article for an organization in which I’m a member. I began with our mission statement, similar to how About Us begins on our parish website, stjohn316.com. But then, in what followed the mission statement, poetic justice rained down on me in torrents for all the smiles and guffaws I had enjoyed over the years at others’ expense. As I wrote, I found myself almost unconsciously putting our best foot forward and leaving out anything that didn’t square with the purity of our mission statement.
What redeemed the exercise, however, was the prophetic moment that resulted, specifically that this group really does have the capacity to be “as advertised” when it sticks to its first principles; when it remembers its history and how it first responded to a genuine need; when instead of mourning its glorious past or obsessing about its future, it focusses on the genuine needs that are present now in this time and place, needs for which it has ample gifts and resources.
Although I was the author of this About Us article, I was not writing in a vacuum. Others in the organization caught the spirit of renewal and the vision for rebuilding that the prophetic moment offered; and when we returned to our regular business, for once, our discussions were not about institutional survival, but rather what we would call in the Church, our mission.
Sticking to our first principles; remembering our history; responding to genuine needs for which we have ample gifts and resources — all of these things, it seems to me, translate seamlessly for people of faith who, from time to time, lose their way and begin fretting about their institutions.
In our First Reading today, King David, seems to be entertaining institutional thoughts. He recognizes that even as the city of Jerusalem is becoming established as the pre-eminent earthly sign of God’s presence among the Hebrew people, there is only a tent within the city as the focus for corporate worship. He is also concerned that the Ark of the Covenant is not protected by a building, but only by a temporary structure. The people live in houses; David, himself, lives in a house of cedar. A building, perhaps a temple, would be more appropriate, David reasons, for the One who stands at the heart and centre of their life together. And so, David questions the situation, and the prophet Nathan counsels him with the wisdom of God: “The word of the Lord came to [me, Nathan reports, saying], Go and tell my servant David, ‘Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle…Did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel saying, Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’”
Behind all this rhetoric is the suggestion of discontinuity; that David may be losing his way, abandoning first principles, and forgetting history. The God of the Hebrew ancestors, the God of David, has been revealed as the living God, as God on the move who lives with and among the covenant people. Building a temple implies that God is locatable and perhaps even controllable. Our advantage of hindsight in reading beyond this chapter of Hebrew Scripture allows us to see that the understanding of who and what God is will be redefined by a permanent building, perhaps even distorted with the temple hierarchy of priests and Levites and a schedule of daily sacrifices on the various available altars. In short, the God of Israel, except for the prohibition of making a graven image, will begin to resemble all the other deities people have worshipped throughout the ages. But beyond that, when people objectify God, the living relationship can be jeopardized, with God becoming merely the focus of religious devotion – not the One who lives among them and interacts with them, forming, reforming, and transforming them. God doesn’t change, but what Christians describe as our life in the Spirit, our perception, our understanding of God’s real presence in our lives, is easily disturbed. Faith is never quite as sure and certain as we would like it to be.
Interestingly, Hebrew temples were eventually erected in Jerusalem – the temple of Solomon, David’s son; the rebuilding of the temple by those who returned after the Babylonian exile; and finally, Herod’s temple from the time of Jesus, destroyed in approximately the year 70, and not rebuilt.
People of faith love buildings it seems, even though, we learn from the prophet Nathan, the God of Israel is not in favour. After Constantine, church buildings became as identifiable as the Cross itself as icons for Christianity. When I was in seminary, I remember our art and architecture instructor becoming exasperated one day as he reflected on the proliferation of new churches not just in North America, but throughout the world as the result of the missionary movement. “Do we really need one more new church?´ he screamed. “Aren’t there enough churches in the world already?” But it is human nature, I expect, to want to create footprints of God in our world; to want to say to others and to ourselves, “This is our faith, and this new building is something of what it means to us to be a faithful people.” We can appreciate David’s instincts. Can we also appreciate the reasons God refused David?
Although indirectly, the author of the letter to the Ephesians challenges our love of building places for worship. Buildings are, at best, a metaphor, we learn from this Pauline writer. Today’s Second Reading tells us that God, as revealed in Christ Jesus, seeks a living church, a temple of faithful believers created on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. And the characteristics of this building, this temple of faithful believers, are hope, peace, reconciliation, welcome, equality, and unity.
Does this temple exist? Clearly, not at the time of the writing of this letter: there was division between the Jewish Christians and the Gentile Christians, and the concern of the author is that the dividing wall and hostility between the two groups needed to yield to the grace they had both known in Christ Jesus. Jesus, we can deduce from the image of Christ as cornerstone, provides the structural integrity for this new building. Do our parishes, our congregations, our churches, the people of God in Christ Jesus in other words, reflect the structural integrity of Christ and the gospel? Are we locations for hope, peace, reconciliation, welcome, equality, and unity?
Our Gospel today shows us Jesus on the move. In fact, if we had read the whole passage without the break indicated by our lectionary, we would see Jesus and the disciples doing non-stop ministry which included not only teaching, preaching, and healing, but then feeding over 5,000 people in what we know as the miracle of the loaves and fishes. Jesus and the disciples are dog-tired, but they keep going, wherever and whenever there is need.
It is so tempting for us in the Church to become discouraged, to want to take a break, to even give up. We feel this temptation when we are tired, when we lose significant members of our faith community, when we realize that we need more money than we have, when we can’t seem to find enough leaders. But here is Jesus, the cornerstone, and his disciples who, in the gospels, represent the Church — here they are energized and refreshed by the call to mission, by those who come to them confident that they have ample gifts and resources for their needs — even food! And what Jesus and his disciples, Jesus and the Church do when they welcome seekers, is bear testimony to the God who watched over Israel and neither slumbered or slept, to the One who cannot be contained or even well represented by bricks and mortar, to the One whose love knows no bounds — the love that gives birth to hope, peace, reconciliation, welcome, equality and unity.
When we open the home page of stjohn316.com we read “the Church of St. John the Evangelist is a caring presence in the heart of the city of Kitchener. Welcome to [this place] where diverse people are welcomed into a loving community that worships God, is growing in faith, and serves others in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit.” It’s About Us, and interestingly, mercifully, it also suggests that we are energized and refreshed by the call to mission — the call to care for others, serve others, be present in the heart of our city for others, welcome others without qualification.
To defeat any suggestion of irony, we must keep asking ourselves and, in our prayers and meditation, keep asking God, “How can we be such a church?”
The Rev. James F. Brown
18 July 2021