Joel D. Kline
October 17, 2004
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
In case you haven’t noticed, these are difficult days for the church. The Church of the Brethren, like many denominations today, finds itself embroiled in conflict—conflict that cuts to the very heart of faith and discipleship, conflict regarding what it means to be the church, to embody God’s love and compassion in a broken world. Perhaps the most obvious conflict these days has to do with the level of openness to gays and lesbians in congregational life, but underneath that conflict lies a deep divide in our understanding of what it means to be the people of God in today’s world. For some of us, our primary calling involves maintaining purity, holding steadfastly on to the gospel’s standards, living faithfully in our corner of the world, separating ourselves from those who do not share our faith and values. Others of us understand the fundamental calling as Christians to focus on compassion, seeking to so embody the grace and peace and loving-kindness of God that we find ourselves immersed in the world around us, problems and all. Likely, many of us find truth in each of these positions.
With all the struggles and divisions in today’s church, there nevertheless continue to be amazing strengths, and one of the most compelling aspects of the Church of the Brethren is our conviction that faith is not simply a matter of “me-and-Jesus.” Faith cuts at the very fabric of the society in which we live, a society that extols individualism, a society that places high regard upon the “self-made person.” Life in Christ, on the other hand, calls us into community, reminding us that we cannot go it alone in the journey of faith. We need one another. Indeed, God created us for relationship—relationship with God and relationship with each other.
Writing to his fellow monks at the Abbey of Gethsemani, Thomas Merton, frequent writer about the spiritual life, reminds them that “each one of us has an irrevocable vocation to be Christ.” That is to say, if Christ is alive in the church community, it is because each one of us is so placing our gifts and talents, our time and resources, our very being, at the disposal of one another that we come to embody Christ for each other. It’s a bold claim, and yet the Christian faith carries little power unless we can make such a claim, for it is only in relationship with one another that the faith can be seen and touched and experienced and lived out.
Is this not the power of today’s Gospel lesson from John, chapter fifteen, a text that reminds us that at the very heart of faith is the call to a life of self-giving love. “This is my commandment,” says Jesus, “that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (15:12-13). Only two chapters earlier John portrays Jesus as sharing similar words, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another…. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35).
In the fourth century, back in the days of a remarkable shift of the church from a persecuted group to one blessed by the state, many who were serious about discipleship lamented that the church was rapidly losing its vision. In response, some withdrew from the corruption in church and society to the desert, and these “desert Christians,” focusing on personal purity, lived alone, fasting, praying, practicing extreme forms of asceticism that included such bizarre rituals as eating nothing but grass, living in trees, or refusing to wash. One of those early Christians drawn to the desert was a man named Pachomius, a former soldier from Egypt who, upon his conversion to Christianity, arranged to be baptized after being released from the military. While in the desert Pachomius began to consider critical questions such as these:
How can you learn to love if no one else is around?
How can you learn humility living alone?
How can you learn Christ’s ways of kindness and compassion while living in isolation from others?
How can you learn patience unless someone puts you to the test?
Pachomius became convinced that living as disciples of Jesus demands living in community, and so he created the first monastery. While living with flawed, sometimes disagreeable and demanding people, Pachomius and those who joined with him discovered that the way of love is seldom easy, yet it is at the heart of faithful living.
Our lesson from John 15, calling us to this hard task of love, follows on the heels of the last of a series of seven “I am” statements attributed to Jesus. The “I am” statements represent one of the unique features of John’s Gospel, with the seven statements each affirming something of the character and identity of Jesus. No doubt you’ve heard the statements: “I am the bread of life” (6:35); “I am the light of the world” (8:12); “I am the gate for the sheep” (10:7); “I am the good shepherd” (10:11); “I am the resurrection and the life” (11:25); “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (14:6). The seventh statement carries a unique feature, for it not only defines a quality of Jesus, but it also speaks of our relationship with Jesus. “I am the vine,” says Jesus; “you are the branches” (15:5).
In a vine, individual branches are nearly indistinguishable from each other; it’s almost impossible to determine where one branch stops and another begins. The branches run together as they grow out of the central vine. And so it is the community of faith, as together we serve God, abide in Christ, and share our gifts in ways that enrich the entire body. The apostle Paul, you may remember, in the letter to the Ephesians asserts that our gifts are not to be used selfishly, but rather to equip one another for ministry, for building up the body of Christ. Eugene Peterson in The Message paraphrases part of Ephesians 4 this way:
You were all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together, both outwardly and inwardly. You have one Master, one faith, one baptism, one God of all, who rules over all, works through all, and is present in all…. We take our lead from Christ, who is the source of everything we do. He keeps us in step with each other. His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love (Ephesians 4:4-6, 15-16).
Some years ago I read the story of Takashi Nagai, who has come to be known as the holy man of Nagasaki. In his high school days Takashi had become an atheist, and while in medical school he was most renowned for his ability to drink his fellow students under the table. But at age 26, after a great deal of soul searching, Takashi made the profound decision to become a follower of Jesus, and in the days and years following the dropping of the atomic bomb on the city of Nagasaki, he urged fellow survivors to turn from bitterness, revenge and despair to a rebuilding of their city and working actively for peace. Even though his home had been leveled and his wife instantly killed in the blast, this holy man of Nagasaki determined to use his gifts for healing and reconciliation. Because of his connection to the vine, Takashi sought to convert his personal anguish into a new passion for peace and healing, along the way challenging many to commit themselves to a conversion of the heart in order to fight “the self-centeredness that is the real enemy of peace.”
As branches connected to the vine, you and I are challenged to bear fruit, to travel together the road of compassion and grace, peace and self-giving love, servanthood and discipleship. In his book Following Jesus, N.T. Wright reminds us that
The whole amazing story of Jesus, with all its multiple levels, is given to us to be our story as we follow him…. The love which Jesus incarnated, by which we are saved, is to become the love which fills us beyond capacity and flows out to heal the world.
Connected to the vine, Jesus’ story becoming our story, we put on a whole new perspective towards life. We embrace the way of compassion, seeking to live faithfully as a community of God’s people whose very life invites and challenges others to join with us in the invigorating task of deepening faith, proclaiming peace, embracing community, welcoming others, and serving our neighbor, all in the compassionate spirit of Jesus. Are we ready to get on board, to so abide in Christ that all of our talents and skills, all of our energy and time, all of our resources and our very life are at Christ’s disposal, so that Christ’s love might indeed flow forth to heal the world around us? Are we ready to abide in the vine—this Christ who is eager to nourish, enrich, encourage, strengthen, empower and equip us for the works of ministry and service?
May it be so among us this day, and all our days. Amen.
Lord God, by the manner of our living may your presence and your love be made known. In our lives and in our hearts, in our life together in the church community, may we point to the wonder of your grace and glory. You have created us, God, for relationship, and deep within us is a hunger to know you more completely, to follow you more nearly, and to serve you more faithfully. O God, satisfy our hunger; draw us ever closer to you. Be glorified, O God, in us and through us.
We confess, holy God, that we are frequently torn. Though we yearn for your presence in our lives, we often choose to go it alone in life. We hear your call to live as servants of one another, but are tempted to pursue paths of self-centeredness. We hear the challenge of your peaceful vision, but often find ourselves pitted against one another. O God, forgive our shortsightedness. Renew us. Recreate us. Redeem us, that by the manner of our living you may indeed be glorified.
O God, we acknowledge that life can be difficult. Sometimes we feel overwhelmed by life’s demands and struggles, by life’s heaviness. We pray for those burdened by addictions, those caught in cycles of poverty, those discouraged by life’s struggles. Bless them, gracious God, and guide us as we seek to be ministers of your grace and peace and encouragement and support.
Hear us now, holy God, as we pray for those in special need of your healing touch…
God of peace, our hearts are heavy as we consider the toll of warfare. We pray this morning for the people of Iraq whose land is torn by bloodshed and fear, and we pray for peoples in other troubled areas of the world as well: Sudan, Israel and Palestine, Afghanistan, and other places where poverty, repression, and fear abide. In this election season, guide our candidates, that they might embrace your vision rather than their own alone. We pray in the name of the One who came proclaiming peace, Jesus the Christ. Amen.