Monday, May 14, 2007

Michael Denton
May 13th, 2003
St. Paul UCC, Palatine
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.

- Greeting

- Prayer

Some of friends, if they’re trying to be polite, have been told me I have a somewhat unusual mind. At less polite moments, they just let me know they think I’m weird. So, yeah, I know I’m kind of a stream of consciousness type of guy and, if you get me at the right moment, I can go on for a bit about, well, anything. Frequently, somewhere in a conversation a story may come up that may or may not seem to be related, at the time. I kind of think in stories and, at about the same time I open my mouth, they seem to tumble out. Granted, when I start to tell the story, I confess I don’t always know exactly where it’s going to go but it usually helps me get around to a point. Now, this can mean a really strange conversation with me on occasion but it’s really handy when writing sermons.

So, while marinating on the lectionary text from Acts this week, I was thinking a lot about a certain bacteria than lives in the stomach called helicobator pylori (more commonly know as h-pylori). OK, maybe not as much the bacteria itself, but there is a great story about h-pylori. . . Oh, if I had a quarter for every time I’ve said that.

Anyway, it goes something like this: H-pylori was discovered in the late 1800’s but no one really knew what it did. It was nearly impossible to grow a culture of it outside the stomach so people kind of ignored it; assuming that it was either some benign or even helpful little stomach creature.

In 1979, it was “rediscovered” by an Australian researcher by the name of Robin Warren and a couple years later, he was joined by another guy named Barry Marshall. They figured out how to grow this stuff outside of the stomach in a Petri dish and, in their study of it, came up with an idea. Up to that point, it was pretty well accepted that stress, spicy foods and grease consumption were the cause of ulcers and chronic heartburn. If you went to any doctor up to this point, they’d subscribe antacids, relaxation and changes in diet in order to at least feel better but, overall, these were seen as a chronic condition that required lifetime monitoring and lifestyle changes.

Warren and Marshall had another idea. They were convinced that h-pylori was the cause of these gastric conditions and that stress, spicy foods and grease consumption simply exacerbated the problem. To say the wider medical community disagreed with this assumption was an understatement. First of all, what “really” caused these medical problems were “common knowledge.” Secondly, everyone “knew” the stomach was way too acidic to support bacteria. Thirdly, well, they were from Australia and there appeared to be the assumption that Australia was pretty much all Outback and crocodiles and very little else. Warren and Marshall were laughed at, derided and insulted. The more persistent they were, the more they were insulted as quacks and eventually, threatened with having their credentials yanked.

So, in and effort to prove a point, Marshall drank a Petri dish of h-pylori. Yum. Soon afterwards, as they predicted, he developed symptoms of gastritis. The researchers also experimented with treatments for a couple other patients and discovered that antibiotics seemed to take care of the problem. They published another paper. This time, the medical community took notice and began to regard their theory as probable. In 2005, Warren and Marshall were awarded the Nobel Prize for Medicine or Physiology.

Although more extreme than most, this is almost a story we may have heard before. It’s practically formulaic. Slightly offbeat discovers a new idea/way of doing things. Idea/way of doing things is presented to experts in field. Experts in field reject idea/way of doing things and are even threatened by it. The slightly offbeat scientist/artist/musician/entrepanur persists with new idea/way of doing things against great odds. Eventually, the idea/way of doing things catches on or is proven correct and everybody lives happily ever after. Outside becomes insider. It all makes a great story. It speaks to something in us. Its one of the reasons the story of Christianity is so compelling to so many. We relate to it as one of these outsider stories.

And, of course, Jesus was clearly an outsider. Although called “rabbi” by some, he said some pretty crazy sounding stuff. Love your enemies? Really? Turn the other cheek? Are you serious? Considering tax collectors and Roman soldiers redeemable? Really? This is clearly outsider thinking. Jesus, the outsider, took these disciples, other outsiders and called them to build a movement of yet still more outsiders. The religious experts of the time rejected the teachings and the organizing plan of this offbeat Messiah and derided him in public. In the most extreme example of rejection of a new idea, Jesus was killed. But the story doesn’t end there. Jesus is resurrected proving that there was something to this Jesus guy, after all. Jesus, in fact, turns out to be so right that, today, there’s folks calling themselves Christian running all over the place. The outsider has become considered the insider.

When we pick up the story in Acts, we’re reading about the disciples and their challenge to follow through on this Jesus directive and they’re finding themselves on the margins of traditional Jewish ethnic and religious culture. Last week, the lectionary reading from Acts talked about Peter tossing off centuries of tradition after having this vision that no one was unclean; this vision that all people were worthy of being reached out to and invited to become a part of this movement. This vision changed a reform movement within Judaism into something more radical. There is this other vision of another kind of faithfulness that takes the religious ideals of the time and, out of them, expands them and forms new ideas. This week, Paul’s has a vision.

Paul’s vision isn’t nearly as grand as big sheet with all the animals of the world in it but, still, some guy appearing in front of you, pleading with you to come to Macedonia is pretty good. That word, “pleading,” does make me laugh a little. You have a vision of some guy in the middle of the night and he has to plead? I mean, come on. But, then again, this is Paul and, well, he had an issue or two. . .

Anyway, so Paul has this vision and takes off for Macedonia. If Paul was there early enough, he probably did what he usually did when visiting a new place and found some of the city’s Jewish folks and spent some time with them. If there was a synagogue, he probably had spent some time there, too; getting to know people and sharing words about Jesus and the movement of the Holy Spirit among these disciples of Jesus.

Somewhere along the way, Paul heard about this place of prayer outside the city gates. Now, we really don’t know why there was this place of prayer outside the gates of the city. Scholars have lots of guesses but no one’s really sure. Some think that this was possibly a meeting place for those who’d been rejected by the authorities residing within the walls. Others scholars, knowing that there is a tradition of something like baptism in early Jewish practice, suggest that maybe this was a place for prayer and baptism. A few have suggested that maybe this was a place outside the city that those who had been considered unclean (because of something they did) had to go when they were in the process of fulfilling certain purification rituals. It was a gathering of women and women weren’t welcome in every synagogue. Some suggest that maybe these women started and established a gathering place of their own. Maybe it was just a really pretty, quiet place for these women to gather, look at the river, look at each other, pray together and be together without the same pressures of the common culture of the city bearing down on them. Heck, no one’s really sure any more. We don’t know.

All we know for certain is that for some reason, these folks either had to meet there or chose to meet there. Even though we don’t know why they were there, we do now that they were somehow outside the understood boundaries of a differently ordered kind of life.

We don’t really know specifically why Paul wanted to meet the women gathered here, either. The scripture just isn’t clear. Again, some there are a variety of reasons that have some have suggested he decided to be present. Maybe it was because he’d heard that these folks were more open minded than most. Maybe he’d received some sort of invitation. Maybe it had been made clear to him that he wasn’t really welcome at the synagogue after what he’d said in the city and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe, there may have been reasons that would have been clear to those who heard this story but those reasons have been lost over time. We don’t know. Regardless, for whatever reason, he met with this group of outsiders and, obviously, Lydia stood out.

Purple cloth was good money and Lydia was probably well off, financially. Purple cloth was the cloth used by royalty. The fact that she was named without a relationship to a husband means that she probably was without one. Again, more conjecture: maybe she was widowed, maybe she was never married but her family business bought her enough privilege that she was OK. Maybe, simply because she was connected to royalty, she got a pass on many social conventions. We don’t know. We don’t know why she was by this place of prayer by the river, either. Maybe, she was from another city and passing through to sell her wares or pick up something she needed. Maybe she was there to meet other women whom she considered to be similar to her. Maybe she just happened to stumble across this place. Again, we don’t know for sure why she was at this place at this time.

We do know that she was, apparently, quite convincing; a good salesperson. I mean, Paul was not always an easy man to convince. Remember, at the beginning of this story, someone who appeared in a vision had to plead with Paul to come to Macedonia. Now, this woman was standing in front of him and we all know from others writings attributed to Paul that this society’s relationship to women was complicated, to say the least. This woman heard the story Paul told, these words of Paul, and found something in them she found important. This woman, the presumably rather well off business woman, was with several members of her household and was so moved by Paul’s message that she and her entire household were baptized by Paul in that river. This woman, so moved by what happened that day, invited Paul and those traveling with Paul, to stay in her home. In Paul’s acceptance of this invitation, he wasn’t just recognizing Lydia’s acceptance of him, it was also his acceptance of her and his acknowledgment of Lydia as a sister in this new movement.

There was a change. There was this outsider’s message shared with an outsider community that was another part of this story of outsiders. One of the reasons this story is so appealing to the Church and is told so many times is that it fits right in to the idea of this outsider to insider transition. Conversion and the story of the growth of the church becomes the ultimate way to tell the story of an outside faith, first rejected by many, becoming more and more accepted. This outsider faith is justified by the acceptance of its ideals. It’s a story that gets told a lot from lots of pulpits. Outsider faith becomes insider faith and, eventually, one of the largest movements in the entire world. It’s the perfect outsider story.

Or, maybe not. Maybe its not that easy. When I look at this week’s text and last week’s text, maybe it was actually the disciples who were converted. In both this week’s and last week’s text, it was those who the disciples really didn’t see as part of the community who invited Paul and company or Peter and company in to their homes. Today’s scripture talks about the opening of Lydia’s heart to this message that Paul brought but maybe it was Paul’s heart that was opened Lydia. It was Lydia that asked Paul to judge whether or not she was worthy. Sure, there can be a level of humility seen in this but imagine it another way.

If you were someone, like this saleswoman who sold cloth for executives, you would have figured out how to convince people of a thing or two. When you add to this the fact that Lydia was not in a relationship with a man, she’d probably had to frequently struggle to be accepted. She was a survivor. She knew she had to do things differently sometimes.

So, here she is, a strong woman among a group of women and she doesn’t tell Paul she’s worthy to be recognized as faithful by him, she makes it up to him – in front of her household and this group of women – to say whether or not she’s worthy. If he said “No,” he might lose credibility with this group of people. If he said “Yes,” he had the opportunity of starting a whole new base community in Macedonia as well as Lydia’s city, Thyatira. I’m guessing Lydia had a pretty good idea what Paul was going to say before he said and, by doing so, at least two new communities were formed.

Sisters and brothers, we in the church frequently talk about “sharing the gospel” in a spirit of outreach and evangelism with the idea that those “out there” are in need of what we have “in here.” I think that’s true but it’s really only half the story. We who are in the church are desperately in need of the conversion that is offered and suggested by those who outside the church. Where are those places that the outsiders, the rejected, the forgotten, the marginalized and the doubted go? We really need to be there both to offer what God’s given to us as well as to receive what God continues to offer in other places, in other ways.

There are ways we continue to be in need of conversion. It’s not a one time thing that we consider, accept and finish but a lifetime process that means seeking out God in all those places God may seem to be hiding. The saddest part about some in the church insisting that there are those among us who are not worthy to be within the church is that this very thought makes us less worthy and more in need of not praise for uprightness, but mercy for our small mindedness and diminished faith. The invitation to become a part of our communities of faith shouldn’t just be a gift that is seen as being offered but a gift that we’re pleading for, that we’re welcoming, that we’re accepting. Moving beyond the gates of our own cities and walls, those places where there is this sense of being protected and safe, needs is an opportunity for our churches and the members of our churches that needs to be encouraged, expanded and explored. We all know that God is present in more places than just this one. We have to seek out those places faithfully and carefully.

As much as we may try to put our faith in the context of a story that is typical, God just doesn’t act typically. God is bigger than any definition and any absolute model of our understanding. This God loves us, deeply, constantly and fully in ways that far, far beyond human understanding. Regardless of whether or not we see ourselves as inside or outside our communities love and car, we’re always in the love of God. Always and this God is always offering us ways for some of the most unexpected conversions through some of the most unexpected people. This God of stomach bacteria, mystery, hope and every single one of us. . .

Monday, May 7, 2007

Michael Denton
May 6th, 2007
Acts 11:1-18
Glenview Community Church

1Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. 2So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, 3saying, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” 4Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, 5“I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners; and it came close to me. 6As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. 7I also heard a voice saying to me, ‘Get up, Peter; kill and eat.’ 8But I replied, ‘By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’ 9But a second time the voice answered from heaven, ‘What God has made clean, you must not call profane.’ 10This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven. 11At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. 12The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man’s house. 13He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, ‘Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; 14he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.’ 15And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning. 16And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, ‘John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ 17If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” 18When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, “Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life.”

- Greeting

- Prayer

Most biblical scholars agree that the same person who wrote the Book of Acts was probably the same person who wrote the Gospel of Luke. Not only that, but many guess that, because of the abruptness with which Acts ends that this person’s intent was to write, at least, one more book that talked about the early Christian community. We really don’t know if this book just wasn’t written or if the book was lost or even if the book was deemed so controversial or impolitic that those who decided what would go what we now know as The Bible just decided to leave it out. We really don’t know but it was one of those things that helped spark my interest in these accounts. Somehow, this idea has made me pay attention to Luke and the Book of Acts in a different way. The book of Acts, in particular, is this interesting amalgam of social commentary, theological rationale, legend-telling and travel log. These texts have become more real to me and I find imagining what was going on when these texts were written in a more vivid way that’s just different than when I read some of the other scriptures. Within these pages are some really good stories and, as I imagine the real people that inspired them, I find myself considering not only the obvious message of the text, but also the possible subtext, as well; the possible story behind the story.

In today’s reading, the obvious message is couched in perspectives that may seem a little odd to most of our modern ears but, when considered in the context of the day, they touch on some deep issues. As we know, this was written about a time before there was the idea of a “Christian community.” At this point in the story, the disciples were part of Jewish reform movement that was seeking out a different way to be faithful. Jesus had cracked open some of the socio-religious norms and expectations of his day and, now, the disciples were carrying on this iconoclastic this tradition.

When we join the story in today’s text, Peter is in trouble. In the eyes of some, he’d really messed up. Within Judaism of the time, there was a clear in group and a clear out group. The idea that Jewish folks were those who were chosen by God for a special relationship and a special task was more than just prominent; it was pretty much accepted as true. The idea that Jesus may be the Messiah and had come to liberate the Jewish people was what was being preached and taught by those mentioned in Acts. Their understanding was that he had come to renew Israel and move religious practice beyond something that was done simply because it had always been done that way before and reinvigorate this message and this law with love; what Jesus believed had been its holy intent. This early reform community was growing in strength and message and purpose as an alternatively faithful, but essentially traditional, ethnically and religiously Jewish community.

Then Peter comes along and messes this all up a bit. Peter was traveling from place to place, preaching to his Jewish sisters and brothers about the promises of this Jesus guy just as he and the disciples had been sent out to do. But then the Gentiles – the non-Jews – also started to gather, listen and be interested. They showed up. And they got it. They really, really got it. They were moved by the Holy Spirit and embraced it with wonderful and beautiful passion and Peter had a choice to make, as the story was told. He saw this. He was moved by it and, in opposition to so much he had been taught, Peter baptized them. Not only that, but he recognized them as full members of this new community and stayed with them in their homes. He lived in their homes for a few days and, we can probably assume, ate the food they prepared.

Peter was breaking some pretty serious, long establishes rules. The rule was that if a man – because this particular situation really focused on the conversion of men - wanted to be accepted in to the Jewish community he needed to be circumcised and, among our early church predecessors, this was also a prerequisite for baptism. It was just understood to be one of those things you did. The fact that Peter didn’t go by the rules was something he was being criticized for.

Still, Peter wasn’t stopping there. Peter was shrugging off another idea, too. His behavior was a clear violation of the purity codes. This violation, in and of itself, not a sin as much as something they you needed to be cleaned from. In and of itself, it wasn’t a sin to eat with a Gentile but it was considered pretty disgusting. There was a whole list of these things in Leviticus.

The online theologian and bible scholar Dan Clendenin writes this (quote):
By one count there are 613 mizvot or "commandments" in the five books of Moses (the Torah). The purity laws of Leviticus chapters 11–26 specify in minute detail clean and unclean foods, purity rituals after childbirth or a menstrual cycle, regulations for skin infections and contaminated clothing or furniture, prohibitions against contact with a human corpse or dead animal, instructions about nocturnal emissions, laws regarding bodily discharges, agricultural guidelines about planting seeds and mating animals, and decrees about lawful sexual relationships, keeping the sabbath, forsaking idols, and even tattoos. These purity laws encompassed every aspect of being human—birth, death, sex, gender, health, economics, jurisprudence, social relations, hygiene, marriage, behavior, and certainly ethnicity, for Gentiles were automatically considered impure. (unquote).

Again, in and of themselves, to be in contact with any one of these things was not considered a sin. They were seen as disgusting things that made you unclean, and therefore, there were rituals and actions that needed to be taken to make you whole, or clean, again. However, these actions did move in to the realm of sin if you did them intentionally and refused to be cleansed; to be made right.

So what Peter was doing was incredibly radical. Not only was he admitting openly that he’d been in very close contact with “unclean” people, he was also denying and disagreeing with this idea that Gentiles, by their very nature, were unclean in the first place. Peter was insisting that God had shown him something - revealed this vision to him - that simply insisted that the idea that anyone was unclean was a fallacy. He was insisting that, in fact, to continue with this prejudice was an attempt to hinder the work of God in the world. He was insisting that all were included by God’s grace and that all had access to God’s love and mercy.

He was resisting a previous, fundamentalist interpretation of scripture that had suggested conditional inclusion and, instead, he was substituting it with the idea that anyone could dedicate their lives to God. He was resisting ideas that had cast some as less than fully human and spiritual beings and insisting that God wanted all people treated a different way. At this moment, he was resisting centuries of religious teachings and, well, it was a good thing for us he did because we have to remember that, for the most part, those of us sitting here are the Gentiles.

Although science has DNA science has taught us we’re all related and we all have connections to each other genetically, very few of us may actually be able to say that we’re considered ethnically Jewish and, because we’re in a church, its probable that even is one of us were ethnically Jewish, we would probably would not self-identify as religiously Jewish. If it weren’t for this liberal spirit of Peter, we may have never had the opportunity, the opportunity, to consider Christianity. Those of us who come from a family background that’s Christian would probably not have a relationship with the church. We would have still been considered unclean and unworthy of being invited to participate in this church service, in this time and place, today. It’s an amazing thing to think about; there is a direct link between Peter’s actions and rebellion that helped bring us here together on this day in Glenview, Illinois.

Needless to say, there is a challenge for us in this, too. We who would not be in church together if it weren’t for Peter’s faithful actions need to challenge ourselves to move beyond those comfortable boundaries we may have, very unintentionally, set on some our own outreach and evangelistic efforts. In the same way Peter resisted the idea of some being clean and some being unclean; some being acceptable and some being unacceptable; some being welcome and some being unwelcome; we have to resist this same idea within our church in this place and time. If we’re in a church where everyone looks pretty much like us, sounds pretty much like us, thinks pretty much like us, and has experienced life pretty much like us, we need to do some serious, serious praying and be open to new visions, new behaviors and new practices. Most of the social and religious expectations of this time and place are a little – a little – more subtle than some of the rules in Peter’s day and some are just as vivid. Still, I think we’re no less called to violate these rules – our own purity standards – than Peter was.

And, we really need to push this. Simply being willing to be open and welcoming is good start but simply not enough. If we take the example of Peter and notice our own selective evangelism or exclusive practice, we have to change it. The strange thing about this faith journey is that it stagnates in the face of too much comfort. If the only thing our faith does is give us comfort, there’s a really good chance we’re not actually being faithful. When we look at our lives, we have the ongoing task of not just celebrating how far we’ve come but asking God where we are to go next. In a life of faith, change is the only constant.

This applies to our church life in some very real ways. One of the things were called to do after finding a church home is continue to seek out ways to attract and invite those who aren’t there yet. In the same way that our church may have been a welcoming place for us, we’re called to make it a welcoming place for others. The irony of this is that in the course of this faithful action we may eventually find ourselves in a church that does things quite a bit differently than the church we were initially attracted to. It is a task of balancing recognition with celebration. In helping our church faithfully offer the Good News, there may be parts of the practice of liturgy that we simply don’t relate to at some point but, if it helps others find their way in to a closer relationship with God, that’s something to celebrate. It may mean that there is music we don’t know or music we’re not used to but, if it helps others find their way in to a closer relationship with God, that’s something to celebrate. It may mean that there is language we haven’t heard before or language that’s different than what we grew up with but, if it helps others find their way in to a closer relationship with God, that’s something to celebrate. It may mean that the sermon may not always be a message that we relate to but, if it helps others find their way in to a closer relationship with God, that’s something to celebrate. It may mean that there are programs in the church that we don’t find we fit in to but, if it helps others find their way in to a closer relationship with God, that’s something to celebrate.

Part of our faith life is to realize that our church life really isn’t as much about our needs and desires. This isn’t our church, its God’s church. In fact, part of our commitment to our faith and our faith community means giving a part of that up for the sake of the whole church and taking responsibility for our own faith development while celebrating those who are in the beginning stages of finding their way to similar commitments and responsibilities. The church is something we hold in common and we are called to work for the health of the whole. It is not about any one individual’s or group’s self-interest. Although the offering of a way salvation is a far bigger opportunity than any of our difficulties, there are still challenges for us as we work to be faithful to this call.

At the beginning of this sermon, I spoke of this idea of the obvious message and the possible subtext. Obviously, I believe that the primary message is about inclusion. The subtext is within the story itself. It’s where the story leaves off and, quite frankly, my imagination takes off.

I’m sure that Peter just didn’t come up with this vision all on his own. I’m sure this conversation about inclusion had been going on for awhile. These folks who questioned Peter’s actions were some of those who’d been involved in this discussion, too. Sometimes, when I read about them in the context of the story, there is a particular niche they fill. They’re the foils for the story. In many of the stories of the New Testament there seems to be this group of questioning people who the protagonist of the story has to explain things to. They’re over simplified figures who, for the sake of the story, either state something out of some sort of ignorance or naiveté and then come around OR figures who never really get it and serve as the foil for an intended message.

In real life, it’s never that simple. In real life, if we take the time to put a face on these folks we know they would be some of those most invested in the life and community of the church. These are the folks who were challenging Peter because he was changing how things how used to be or, in their perspective, were supposed to be. They were working on preserving their community for intentions that were probably rooted in some good intentions. Their words, although maybe discouraging, were usually spoken out of care for their sisters and brothers.

When I came on staff as the Associate Pastor for the church I served in Dayton, Ohio one of the things a mentor of mine suggested I do when I first arrive is request three months to do very little except talk with and interview the members of the congregation I was called to serve. This mentor suggested that I go in to these interviews with two questions of my own and one related to a current struggle that congregation seemed to going through.

Even though this congregation had voted affirmatively to become Open and Affirming (for those of you who aren’t familiar with UCC language this means open and affirming of folks who are gay, lesbian bi-sexual or transgendered), there was still a great deal of tension in this community about this decision. When I started at this church, there were some people suggesting that maybe this decision had been too rushed and was simply not a good idea. Even one of the gay members of the congregation was wondering if this decision had really been a bad idea that church wasn’t quite ready for, yet. So, as one of my three questions, I simply asked the questions “What do you think of this congregation’s decision to become Open and Affirming?”

Starting with the very first few interviews, I noticed a pattern of answers start to emerge. When we got to that that question, the person would almost always say something like this, “Actually, I don’t really have a problem with the decision itself. But I know so and so does and I don’t want them to leave because we’ve made this decision.” Over and over again, I heard – basically – this same statement made and, by the time I reached he conclusion of this series of interviews, I could only find one person in all the interviews who actually said he a problem with it. And even he said that he wouldn’t want the decision reversed because he would want the one gay couple he knew at the church to leave. In private, most folks didn’t seem to really mind the decision of this congregation but, in public, they wanted to support their friends who they were afraid were going to leave because such a decision had been made. Because some spoke out of care for and in solidarity with one of their friends, the assumption that there was a large group of people who believed the same thing became falsely perceived.

A good group of faithful people were questioning this decision not because of their own feelings but because of their efforts to protect those they cared about. They didn’t want to change things because they didn’t want to accidentally ostracize those they cared about from the faith community. They had been saying they disagreed with the decision not because they actually did but out of an effort to protect the church and community of believers they loved deeply.

When I read about those who criticized Peter, I can’t help but to think about same this group of really good people. They weren’t criticizing Peter just out of spite. They probably saw themselves as protecting what must have seemed like a pretty fragile community in its early stages of development. This was a community that was already being criticized by those outside of it and, now, Peter was handing them something to criticize? I’m sure it must have seemed like a bad idea, at first.

In this case, this was something they were able to figure out amongst themselves but this general question continued a theme that’s in almost all The Epistles. These letters almost all include questions of who is in and who’s out. It’s all right there. In some cases these letters were written by someone who is clearly a participant in the debate but, most often, these letters were written by someone from outside that immediate community who was trying to help that group of faithful people figure out the issues were that distracted them so that they could focus, instead, on all of those things that attracted them to community life in the first place. There is this obvious and primary text of inclusion, in today’s text, but there is also this subtext of taking the time to look at our faithful actions to make sure they’re faithful.

Sisters and brothers in just a few moments we’ll have the opportunity to participate in our offering together. This isn’t just an opportunity to give back to God a portion of what God has given to us but it is also an opportunity to remind ourselves that we share a mission together. Sisters and brothers, in just a few moments we’ll have the opportunity to share communion together. This isn’t just an opportunity to be welcomed to Christ’s table in a way that is both extravagant and beautiful but it’s also an opportunity for this community of faith to embrace the reality of the one body and blood that we share. At this table, none are unclean. At this table all our welcome. At this table, Christ’s table, we can celebrate the promise of healed brokenness and welcome that we continue to find so wonderful that we can’t help but to share that welcome with others. Amen and amen.