Friday, August 23, 2019

Give and take and give--Easter 6


Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Easter 6, May 26, 2019
Acts 16:9-15
               9During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” 10When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them. 11We set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, 12and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city for some days.
          13On the sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there. 14A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. 15When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.” And she prevailed upon us.

          In 1938, Harvard College (it was a “college” back then) gathered two cohorts of men for a study.  About a third were sophomores at Harvard.  About two third were teenagers from some of the poorest neighborhoods in Boston.  In all, there were 724 of them.  And they followed them from 1938 to the present, though most are gone now.
          It was a comprehensive study, not just a mailed questionnaire each year.  They did blood tests, interviewed the men and their families, observed and recorded their interactions.  And when they had a cohort who had reached their eighties, they looked back at them in midlife, to see whether there were predictors of future health and happiness.
          As you might have guessed, there were.  And they weren’t particularly physical.  The best predictor of long-term well-being—physical, emotional and psychological—is the formation of strong attachments and relationships.  People with strong relationships are happier, and they feel better.  It turns out, this study and others have concluded, that loneliness and isolation hurt.  They trigger a response in the same part of the brain that registers physical pain.
          And the best measure is quality, not quantity, of relationships.  Having strong partners in life—friends and/or romantic partners—leads to improved health outcomes of all sorts.  According to Robert Waldinger, the Harvard Study’s current (and fourth) director, “The people who were the most satisfied in their relationships at age 50 were the healthiest at age 80.”[1]
          I think some of us would have guessed that this was the case.  What the Study did was to offer empirical data to back up the notion that we humans are built for relationship.  Being connected to others is good for us, physically, emotionally, psychologically…
          …and spiritually.  The story of our faith—both globally and individually—is a story of relationship.  Faith is generally born of relationship.  We’re taken to church and baptized by our parents.  Or we meet a friend who invites us to their church, their synagogue, their mosque.  And we go.
          According to Nancy Ammerman, my favorite sociologist of religion, we become regular at a house of faith because we have made relationships there.  Ammerman says three is the golden number for the thousands of people she has studied.  As we think about growing our church, that is a number to keep in mind, if a bit loosely, because honestly—there are no formulas for this.
          We just know that relationship is key. 
          And, of course, as Christians—students of the gospels and Paul’s writings, we already knew this, right?
          Jesus begins his public ministry and what does he do?  He calls a community of twelve and then even more to work with him.  And they go out into the world and meet people.  Jesus teaches, but he also lays hands on those who are sick, and draws in those who are out on the margins—the sinners, the tax collectors, the sex workers.
          Every so often, Jesus withdraws for prayer.  But apart from those few verses, I challenge you to find a place in the gospels in which relationship isn’t at the center of the story.
          And it continues in the book of Acts.  We know from Luke’s account that this foundational reliance on relationship continued into the formation of the church.  Anybody remember how Acts begins?  I’ll give you a hint.  (look up at ceiling) 
          The Ascension of Jesus, which is celebrated this coming Thursday.  The apostles are all gathered with Jesus, who is then lifted up out of their sight.
          And as they are standing there, having a spiritual moment, “two men in white robes” appear and say, “Hey, don’t just stand around looking at the sky!  There’s work to do!”  So they return to Jerusalem, choose Matthias to replace Judas, and gather their community together for prayer and meals.  In chapter one, we are told that there are one hundred twenty faithful in that early church.
          Until Chapter Two.  When a wind from heaven blows among thousands of faithful folks gathered in Jerusalem.  The wind is so powerful that its sound draws a crowd.  The wind enables the Apostles to speak in other languages and the crowd to hear everything that is said in their own language.
          So the story of the formation of the Christian church begins with God tearing down the wall God had erected to keep people in their place.  (Google “Tower of Babel”)
          And by the end of Chapter Two, it is clear that this church will be a place of welcome.  A place where people come together to eat, pray, and yeah, love.  And more and more people are drawn to the church.  It is a novel institution, because it doesn’t organize around the typical cultural lines that often define fledgling religions.  Of course, we’re continually fighting that instinct.  In the ELCA, we must remind ourselves that our church isn’t organized around a passion for lutefisk and conflict avoidance. Because our church isn’t a haven for Scandinavian immigrants any more.  In this synod alone, there are ELCA congregations speaking Spanish, Lao, Oromo, and Dinka. 
          Even in the beginning, of course, there were struggles.  How wide should the welcome be?  When Philip meets an Ethiopian court official on the road to Gaza, it is the Eunuch who has to ask, “Look, here is water!  What is to prevent me from being baptized?”
          So what’s the answer? 
          Nothing.  Nothing is the answer.  There should never be barriers to participation in Christ’s church.  The church is an incubator of relationship, and its doors must be wide open.  So Peter baptizes the household of Cornelius, a Roman Centurion.  And Paul takes the gospel throughout the empire.
          Which is where another aspect of this reliance upon relationship appears.  In the early chapters of Acts, the question tends to be “Whom shall we admit?”  What rules can we let go in order to be more welcoming.
          Who holds the power?  The ones deciding whether to welcome.
          But as Paul sails around the Empire, preaching the gospel, getting in trouble, setting up communities, the dynamic changes a bit, doesn’t it?
          Instead of Paul having the power to allow others into the church, Paul must rely upon the people in the communities he visits to support his work, and to build and maintain these fledgling Christian communities.  There’s no centralized authority any more.  As Peter Mayer sings, “God is loose in the world.” 
          So we have wonderful stories like the one before us this morning.  Paul has a vision that says he should go to Macedonia.  Clearly the vision is right, because notice two of the places he visits—Philippi and Thessalonica.
          He gets to Philippi, learns the lay of the land, and on the Sabbath day, they go out to the edge of town, “where we supposed there was a place of prayer.”  There are women gathered, and after Paul preaches, one of them, a woman who should have some wealth, according to her stated occupation, prevails on them to come and stay with her.
          The ministry of Paul, which spread the gospel of Jesus Christ from Antioch to Rome, is utterly dependent upon this sort of generosity.  And that is a wonderful thing!

          I think we all know from our own relationships that they work best when there is equity among the parties.  Give and take.  Shared power. 
          Those are the sorts of relationships that give health to individuals.  And to institutions. 
          It’s true.  I heard it from Harvard.
          What happens as Paul travels around, relying upon the generosity of deacons like Lydia, and Phoebe, is that the power is equalized, and we get a model of relationship which recognizes the gifts of all parties.
          Think about what that means for us as a church.  We have this amazing gospel, and we want to share it with the world.  But the people we want to reach also have wonderful gifts, and we want to receive what they bring.  That is an ethic of Christian community and relationship which was born in the first days of the church and is still being formed and perfected today.  As we consider welcome, we must consider not just how to throw our doors wide to accept those who come, but how shall we be inviting others to share their gifts with us in this community.


























[1] Liz Mineo, Harvard Gazette, April 11, 2017, https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2017/04/over-nearly-80-years-harvard-study-has-been-showing-how-to-live-a-healthy-and-happy-life/, accessed May 25, 2019.

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