It's about community

"As much as I may not like what feels like an inherent legalism in this pericope -- and, truth be told, in much of Matthew -- when I get over this bias and read the passage carefully I realize that Matthew's deep concern in this passage and in so many other places is community -- honest-to-goodness, authentic Christian community. And the two things I've discovered time and again about community is 1) we all say we want it and 2) we usually have no idea how difficult it is to come by.

Community, after all, is one of those feel-good words that draw us into idealisms -- we imagine a place where you're accepted for who you are, where you're never lonely, and where, of course, everyone knows your name. But the really difficult thing about community is that it's made up of people! And people -- not you and me, of course, but most people -- can be difficult, challenging, selfish, and unreliable. Which means that usually when we're daydreaming about community we're often prompted to do so because we don't particularly like the people -- i.e., the community! -- we're currently a part of.....

To get even more succinct, I'd put it this way: Authentic community is hard to come by. It's work. But it's worth it. Because when you find it, it's like discovering a little bit of heaven on earth; that is, it's like experiencing the reality of God's communal fellowship and existence in your midst. And, as Jesus promises, when you gather in this way -- with honesty and integrity, even when it's hard -- amazing things can happen because Jesus is with you, right there, in your very midst, forming and being formed by your communal sharing."

http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1601

God models community

Images have been used such as clover leaves where the three segments are likely to be identical, or of a person as a daughter, partner and mother, in an effort to understand to the mystery of the Trinity. Rather than trying to explain the unexplainable, let’s look at what it might mean for humanity to be made in the image of this mystery.

One of the fundamental arguments for the Trinitarian nature of God is at the very beginning of our Scripture in Genesis 1:26,27. We have the words with plural pronouns, “Then God said, “Let US make humankind in OUR image, according to OUR likeness….. in the image of God [he] created them; male and female [he] created them.” We are reminded that in Hebrew Scripture, the Spirit of God and the Wisdom of God are feminine. It would seem that the Trinitarian God is totally masculine and totally feminine as this is what humanity as a whole is like.

Throughout history no two humans have ever been absolutely identical. Even the most identical of identical twins have their differences. What does this say about the creator God? We expect people to be like us, not too different. If they are of the same race, socio-economic background, even family, we expect to be similar and, of course we are in many ways, but not all, by any means. As a consequence, we may subconsciously think that God is like us.  

The Trinitarian nature of God models community and coming together in the diversity of how we were created and who we are with different height, body shape, tolerance, health, understanding and intelligence. We have complex differences in our personalities as we are along the continuum from extremely extrovert to extremely introvert.

There is wisdom and richness in diversity. Maybe the greatest gift to us in the image of God as Trinity is that it normalizes diversity for us. Humanity as a whole is made in the image of God. To imply that any one part of humanity is more God- like than any other part is failing God, others and ourselves. Life in all its fullness is about embracing and celebrating diversity of creation and especially among humans. When we can do this, we will truly be worshipping the mystery which is Triune God.

Rev Julianne Parker (full sermon in sermon section)

turned back, praising

 

My skin connects me to the world,
its creases and lines are my interface
with everything and everyone else.
When people look upon me it is my skin,
framing my eyes and giving form to my soul,
that they see.
When I greet friends,
and our hands clasp
and our lips and cheeks touch,
it is my skin, and their’s,
that momentarily join.
When I embrace, and make love,
it is my skin, damp and flushed,
that unites me with my lover.

My skin betrayed me;
it turned leprous.
I became frightful,
a disfigured object of separation;
even children, normally curious and accepting,
were instructed to run away.
No-one would look upon my face,
there was none to touch or caress;
my pain was made complete in my despair.
Nor was there anyone to greet me,
save my equally reluctant comrades in disconnection.

We lived in places in between,
where people passed through
out of need, not choice.
Thus the Teacher came by one day;
we shouted from a distance, not daring to approach.
Showing the requested mercy,
he spoke his words of generous healing,
restoring skin and life,
and releasing great joy.

© Ken Rookes

real love always involves risk

Loving your enemy and forgiving those who hate you, for instance, will not necessarily make you many friends. There will be many, including family, for whom such a way of living will be alien and strange.

When you advocate a love that turns slaves into equals and asylum seekers into people with the same rights as the rest of us, regardless of the cost, you are not going to be admired and applauded. The letters pages of the newspapers and the talk back airwaves will not fill up with voices saying “you can tell they are Christians by their love.” Instead the voices will say that we are failing in our duty to love those closest to us. That we are putting at risk the interests of those for whom we have the greatest responsibility, those closest to us. They’ll say that we are failing to love our country, our families. They’ll say we are a bunch of bleeding hearts that don’t care enough about our children’s welfare. They’ll say we are advocating the destruction of everything our society holds dear, and that such an attitude has more to do with hate than love.

And that’s exactly what Jesus warned us about. He said that if we are not willing to risk being accused of hating our families, then we haven’t got what it takes to follow him. The fact is though, that real love always involves risks. Real love always lies beyond our comfort zones. And a new community founded on risky, socially controversial, deep love is well and truly worth whatever discomfort and disrepute it takes. Jesus has gone that way before us, and as we gather around this table we are reminded that he was broken for it. But we are also reminded that on the other side of the deep waters of disrepute, scandal and death lies the promised land where the new wine of love and mercy and peace is poured. And with the bread and wine of scandalous love, we are nourished for the unpopular journey into the ultimate love.

http://www.laughingbird.net/SermonTexts/0228.html

Seats of glory

You know I love you both like brothers,

but I’m embarrassed,

and you should be too.

You don’t get it; you haven’t been listening.

If it was up to me you could have them,

but it’s not that simple

and the others might object.

The seat on my left and the one on my right,

they’re not mine to grant,

because they belong to everybody

and no-one.

There will be no worldly kingdom,

because it doesn’t work like that;

and there will be no heavenly kingdom, either,

because a paradise among the clouds

is just as irrelevant, and disquieting,

as one amid earth’s dust.

There will be no seats of glory;

not for me, not for anyone.

There are no seats, only places,

and they have little to do with glory

and much more to do with serving

and giving and suffering

and living and dying and making peace.

Places for standing and moving,

not seats for sitting and presiding;

places for gathering and for sharing together.

Places for being a servant,

not reserved for the best, or the greatest.

Places for everyone

who is willing to drink the cup

and to immerse themselves

in prickly water-spirit baptised life.

Places for disciples; followers

who allow themselves to be raised

above all the fears and the worries.

Places of connection, with the Spirit,

building justice, love and grace,

into kingdom and community.

© Ken Rookes 2012