The Church at the Corner of Wonder and Awe
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
Pastor Katie Shaw Thompson – May 7, 2023
The Church at the Corner of Wonder and Awe – Acts 2: 42-47
Today’s scripture text describes the early church in the season directly following the moment of Pentecost where the Holy Spirit arrived in palpable wind, fire, and miraculous connections of communication. If we read just this section, we get a picture of the church at its highest level of community cooperation and miraculous togetherness. If I close my eyes, I can smell the pots of food being passed and hear the collective whisper of Kumbaya.
This is the church I’d like to be a part of, where you can taste belonging in every bite of bread, and where there are no worries about finances because everyone’s got each other’s back. Surely this is a vision of the kin-dom of heaven, the reign of God, Jesus talked and taught about and what Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. called the Beloved Community. Unfortunately, we don’t have to zoom out too far to pop this utopian bubble in today’s text or in our own experience of community life.
After all, the story of Acts picks up where the story of Luke left off. Yes, the disciples have witnessed the resurrected Christ, but they have also witnessed Jesus’s crucifixion and have real reason to fear their own violent persecution. Not long after this blessed scene of early Christian community living, the book of Acts will describe community betrayal, painful community conflict, and horrific violence from the wider world.
Our own Christian community can also be far from utopian. We experience conflicts, sometimes deep, painful ones that even if not intended as betrayal can make it difficult to trust or even talk to each other. We, too, live in a world of horrific violence. Even in the richest country in the world, the violence of neglect and poverty is commonplace. Even in a country with the world’s largest military, we are unsafe from gun violence in schools and stores and neighborhoods. Even in a country where many of us pledge allegiance to a flag that stands for an indivisible nation with liberty and justice for all, the machinations of our government, our economy, and our social fabric are still far from that dream.
In the face of such violence and the reality of human failing, what good is the practice of Christian community? An answer to that question came to me from an unlikely place this week.
On Tuesday, the U.S. Surgeon General released a report titled "Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation." Its findings include this statement, “that even before the COVID-19 pandemic, about half of U.S. adults reported experiencing measurable levels of loneliness, ...the physical consequences [of which have been found to include] a 29% increased risk of heart disease; a 32% increased risk of stroke; and a 50% increased risk of developing dementia for older adults.”[1] According to this new advisory, the United State’s “epidemic of loneliness… can increase the risk for premature death to levels comparable to smoking 15 cigarettes a day.”
US Surgeon General Murthy noted “loneliness isn't a uniquely American problem, but instead a feature of modern life around the globe. Yet, he noted that in the U.S. participation in community organizations — from faith groups to recreational leagues — has declined in recent decades.” He also noted that while social media can provide an important sense of connection, it can also give us a false sense of connection that takes the place of time spent building quality relationships through in-person interaction.
After also naming economic challenges, heightened social division, the fast pace of modern life, and the lack of mental health care access, Murthy concluded, “we're seeing more forces that take us away from one another and fewer of the forces that used to bring us together.”
Did you catch what I caught in that report? There’s a lot to digest there. But one of the things that stood out to me was the US Surgeon General, the government leader whose own website describes their responsibility as “providing Americans with the best scientific information available on how to improve their health and reduce the risk of illness and injury,” named faith groups among forces that bring us together and noted their decline contributes to a culture of loneliness that is hazardous to our health.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not making a Christian supremacist argument. You won’t hear me say that the diversity of religious or non-religious expression in the United States will be its downfall. What I will say is that co-creating loving and non-coercive Christian community can be a vehicle for changing and yes, even saving lives.
I’m not talking about getting a certain number of folks to say the sinner’s prayer. I’m talking about the difference it makes in our lives and in our communities to have quality connections, to know that somebody has your back, and that there is a place and a people you can go to when you need to celebrate or lament.
It will never be perfect. It will never look like that early Acts vision at every moment or in every season. But at its best, church does have the power to strengthen our connection to God, the holy source of all life and love. At its best, church even has the power to challenge us to continue the lifelong work of expanding our hearts and our love to include imperfect others and our imperfect selves. Yes, the church has made 2 millennia of mistakes but it also has 2 millennia of practice and experience to meet the needs of this moment in which we are living.
Today’s vision from Acts proclaims that “And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.” That is no inconsequential description, and if we take this vision of Beloved Community as a model, it will be no inconsequential promise.
That description from Acts also tells us that “Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.” Another way of describing the irresistible wholeness and health of this community might be with the Hebrew word shalom. Many of you will recall that shalom means peace but not just the absence of violence. Shalom is a peace with justice where all are made whole and well–where everyone has what they need.
In her first book, Shalom Sistas, New Orleans-bred pastor and accomplished cook Osheta Moore describes shalom as the “breadth, depth, climate, and smell of the kingdom of God.” It’s like the dish Osheta most loves to make for building community: a good pot of gumbo we can all gather around.
It occurred to me reading Osheta’s flavor-filled description of the Beloved Community this week that we don’t have to constantly be eating to be nourished. It’s a rhythm. We eat. We work. We rest. We mourn. We celebrate. We eat some more.
Glimmers of the reign of God among us may seem fleeting, but that doesn’t mean they can’t provide us with the sustenance we need along the way.
In that earliest Christ-following community, we are told “awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles.” We may think that awe-filled wonders and signs may have happened only a long time ago. But if I stop and think about it, I can say I have witnessed these awe-filled miracles in churches from Pennsylvania to North Carolina to California to Indiana to Iowa to here in Elgin, IL. Yes, including all of you, especially all of you.
It was special for me to see so many of you gathered for a Table Grace meal one Sunday this Lent. I tasted soup made with love, and I heard your joyful conversations. I have to tell you though what touched me most was when I turned around at just the right moment to witness an adult in the congregation teaching one of my children how to fold up the table and carry it across the fellowship hall to put away. There was so much patience and camaraderie in that moment that it nearly moved me to tears. Maybe you don’t consider that a miracle. In some ways, it was perfectly normal, but gathering together hasn’t been normal for nearly three years. It’s been enough time that I’ve stopped taking for granted the little gestures of community we make when we’re together, the way it knits together relationships, the way it tells us we’re loved and we belong, and the way it embodies the gentle, patient, life-changing love of Christ. I give thanks for the miracles large and small that I have been privileged to witness this far while creating Beloved Community with all of you.
With God’s help, the Holy Spirit’s leading, and the love of Christ, we can still today create a circle of community, a nourishing neighborhood at the corner of wonder and awe, where lives are transformed and even if for a moment all is made well.
May it be so. Amen.
[1] https://www.npr.org/2023/05/02/1173418268/loneliness-connection-mental-health-dementia-surgeon-general
