Joel D. Kline
October 5, 2003
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
World Communion Sunday
Perhaps you remember the rather bizarre story, recorded in the book of Numbers in the Hebrew Scriptures, about Balaam the prophet setting out on a misguided mission, having been urged by the king of Moab to curse the Israelites. Balaam’s donkey suddenly stops dead in its tracks on the road. No matter how hard Balaam kicks the donkey, the donkey will not budge. After being kicked a number of times, the donkey finally cries out, “What have I done to you, that you have kicked me three times? Have I not served you faithfully through the years?” And then an angel blocking the road, whom Balaam had not seen before, becomes visible to Balaam, and in effect says, “You fool, quit beating the donkey. For even the donkey could see that I am standing here. In truth, the donkey has saved your life, for if you had carried out this foolish mission you would have been killed. In fact, I would have killed you and let the donkey live.”
In a book entitled Jesus CEO, Laurie Beth Jones attempts to apply the wisdom of the Scriptures to visionary leadership. Jones recalls this unusual story and then suggests, “There is a fine line between knowing when opposition is God trying to show you another way or when it is just a test of courage.” Unexpected interruptions in our busy schedules … flat tires that keep us from catching a plane … missed appointments that cause a project’s delay … might these not be donkeys that are keeping us from endangering ourselves in ways we cannot presently foresee?
And how often for us those unexpected interruptions are not donkeys, but our fellow human beings! Unanticipated encounters with others—what may at first seem to be annoying interruptions—may well open before us experiences and events that prod us to examine the direction of our lives, to consider past decisions, to ponder what we hold as most important in life. Indeed, is this not one of the great values of living in community—that relationship with one another challenges us to look beyond ourselves and our own limited perspectives?
One of the intriguing things about this community we call the church—the household of faith, the body of Christ, the fellowship of believers—is that we find ourselves in relationship with persons we may not have chosen. Marshall Shelley, editor of Leadership, a journal for church leaders, a few years ago asserted in an editorial that:
God’s kind of love is best learned when we can’t be selective about our associates. Perhaps this is why two institutions established by God—the family and the church—are not joined by invitation only. We have no choice about who our parents or brothers or sisters will be; yet we are expected to love them. Neither can we choose who will or will not be in the family of God; any who confess Jesus as Lord are to be welcomed. We learn agape love most effectively in our involuntary associations, away from the temptation of choosing to love only the attractive.
The apostle Paul must have had to stop periodically and shake his head, when he considered the radical changes in his life. Earlier as Saul, the angry persecutor of the fledgling church, he spent his time associating with those who thought and acted like he did, those who shared a common ethnic and spiritual background, those who in many ways were carbon copies of Saul. But in the aftermath of a most remarkable interruption—his transforming encounter with the light of Christ on the road to Damascus—Saul, now renamed Paul, finds himself led into relationships he would never before have considered. For, in Christ, the old barriers between Jew and Gentile came tumbling down. Earlier, as Saul, a committed Pharisee, he no doubt prayed a prayer common to the religious leaders of that day, “Thank God that I am not a slave, a woman, or a Gentile.” But after being touched in a new way by the gracious love of Jesus, this same man writes in his letter to the Galatians, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28).
Our Scripture lesson for the morning comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippians, a church he had founded some years before in the Roman colony of Philippi. No doubt the vast majority of its membership was Gentile, persons with whom, as Saul, he would not have been willing to have any contact. Yet Paul could now write, “I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you” (Philippians 1:3-4). And then Paul continues, “And this is my prayer [for you], that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight” (1:9). In The Message Eugene Peterson offers this paraphrase of the apostle’s words,
So this is my prayer: that your love will flourish and that you will not only love much but well. Learn to love appropriately. You need to use your head and test your feelings so that your love is sincere and intelligent, not sentimental gush. Live a lover’s life, circumspect and exemplary, a life Jesus would be proud of: bountiful in fruits from the soul, making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God (1:9-11).
In a book entitled Finding My Way Home Henri Nouwen reminds us that “if the love of God blesses you, you have eyes to see the blessedness of others.” Surely that was the experience of the apostle Paul, an experience he yearned for his fellow Christians to share as well. It is a recognition that God’s love is not limited to a few select people, that God calls us to love much and to love well. God has created us for relationship—with God and with one another.
By the beginning of the fourth century of the church, as the lines increasingly became blurred between church and state, a number of Christians began streaming to the desert, seeking to withdraw from a corrupt society. Pachomius was an Egyptian soldier who, after being converted to Christianity, left the military and, upon his baptism in the year 315 AD, began wandering the wilderness alone—fasting, praying, having visions. Some of his fellow desert Christians carried their stringent lifestyle to peculiar extremes, some eating nothing but grass, others living in trees, still others refusing to bathe. Pachomius, however, began to sense that something critical was missing, and he began to ask himself some tough questions:
Pondering these questions, Pachomius became convinced that discipleship involves community, that people of faith are called to live in relationship with one another. In response, Pachomius created the first monastery, a community open to all seeking to grow in Christian faith and discipleship. In the midst of flawed, sinful, frequently demanding and disagreeable people, Pachomius and those who joined with him began to learn that we dare not reserve our love only for those whom we find attractive, or for those who are most like us. Instead, God challenges us to learn to love the variety of people with whom God places us in fellowship and relationship.
In Church of the Brethren tradition, we celebrate this truth every time we gather for love feast, traditionally the high point of our life and worship together. In Brethren tradition, communion is not simply a celebration of an individual’s relationship with God. Rather, that personal communion with God is lived out in the context of community with one another. In the love feast service, we willingly wash the feet of a brother or sister, we share together a simple meal affirming the unity and love that binds us together in Christian community, and we recommit ourselves to discipleship through the bread and the cup. It is a visible reminder that God’s love for us, and our love and care for one another, are intimately connected. As the writer of 1 John puts it, “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God … whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:7-8).
A few weeks ago, as I visited with those who had gathered to prepare the Highland Highlights for mailing, someone made reference to a story I had heard many years ago, a story that speaks of the power of community, of the significance each one of us plays in the life of the congregation. It’s the story of a dour old Scotsman who had not participated in the church’s worship and fellowship for some time. The pastor of the church went out to visit with him in his small cottage along a country road. The pastor knocked; the old Scotsman came to the door, opened it, saw the pastor, and without a word motioned him inside. He pointed to a rocking chair for the pastor in front of the coal fire, and drew another up for himself. The two sat silently and watched the coals burning brightly.
After a time the pastor stood up, took a pair of tongs, lifted one of the burning coals out of the fire, put it off to the side of the hearth, and sat back down in his rocking chair. Both watched as the lone coal grew ashen and cold.
After a time the pastor again took the tongs and, picking up the now dead coal, put it back into the fire, sat down, and the two watched as once again the coal began to burn brightly with all the rest. Without a word the pastor left.
The next Sunday the old Scotsman was in church and never missed from that time forward. Every coal needs the fire and builds the fire that warms a church that warms a world. We need one another; our life together is enriched by the unique gifts each one of us brings. We embrace community, for we are called to live in the compassionate spirit of Jesus.
This is our faith. This is our vision. Amen.
O listening God,
You who know our every thought and struggle and hope,
You who created each of us in Your image,
Hear us now as we come before You, confessing our need.
We need Your strength, O God. Our intentions may be good, to walk in Your ways of compassion, peacemaking, and faithfulness, but our resolve frequently wavers. We need Your encouraging and uplifting Presence to guide us along our journey of faith.
We acknowledge, O God, that when we try to go it alone in life, something critical is missing. You have created us for relationship—relationship with God and with one another. And so we pray, holy God, that You would lead us into a deeper experience of Christian community. May we be a people who affirm the unique gifts and contributions of each person in our faith community. May we seek to support, challenge, encourage, and embolden one another as we journey in faithfulness. May we provide a safe place to question and to grow, to struggle and to explore, to doubt and to risk, and through it all, grow up together into Christ who is our head, our model, our Redeemer, our hope, our example, our strength.
O loving God, hear us as we pray for those in special need of Your gracious and healing touch … Hold in Your light and love those who are hurting because of brokenness in key relationships—those who are disappointed, those who are frustrated, those who are yearning for something more, something new and fresh.
O God who makes all things new, we pray not only for individuals, but for our community and world as well. As we gather this evening for love feast service, remind us of our oneness with all creation, our bond with all humanity, our calling to be a community transformed by love, humility, servanthood, and peace.
God, we pray for peace and wholeness. Break down the fears and suspicions that create dividing walls of hostility. Fill Your people with hope and joy, that we might become messengers of life and grace to a broken world.
O creating God, hear our prayers. Come and listen to us, as we seek to listen to You. Amen.