ong before there were PACs, and soft money, and
attack ads people gathered in Athens, the birthplace
of democracy, and debated ideas. There were no media
consultants, no expert pollsters, no spin doctors.
There were just ideas, and people who used the force
of their personality and intelligence to promote those
ideas. It was democracy in its nascent form.
Long before there were $100 million contracts,
and luxury boxes in stadiums, and team logos that
every kid had to wear people gathered in fields or
school gymnasiums to play simple games that brought
great joy. There were no agents, no billionaire team
owners, no television contracts that dictated every
aspect of the show. There were just games, and the
children and adults who played them as a distraction
from the difficulties of real life. It was sport in
its fundamental essence.
Boy, I sound like an old codger for someone who gets
called a "young pastor" all of the time. Well, it is
not my intention to try and convince you life was
better when the Model T ruled the road and the
Internet was something you might find inside a wig.
No, my goal is simply to get us to think about
fundamentals. Today is one of those days in the life
of our church when we make a big decision. And we are
anxious. We are anxious because we will not all agree
and it doesn't feel good for us to disagree with our
friends. We are anxious because however we vote this
afternoon the future is not as clear as we would like
it to be. And when we get anxious and unsure life
becomes more complicated. We feel less certain about
how to proceed under those circumstances. And so I am
suggesting we strip away the peripheral stuff this
morning and just focus on the fundamentals. Let's
remind ourselves what is central about our life in
this place. And I'd like to start that conversation by
asking the most basic of questions: What is the
church?
The great French sociologist, Emile Durkheim, once
defined the church as "a unified system of beliefs and
practices relative to shared things, that is to say,
things set apart and forbidden such as beliefs and
practices which unite into one single moral
community." I don't know about you, but that doesn't
help me strip away anything and get down to its
essence (all apologies to the sociologists in the
crowd).
In 1912, the great theologian Ernst Troeltsch
published the monumental work, The Social Teachings of
the Christian Churches and Groups. It remains a
classic of religious sociology, social history, and
ethics. Troeltsch argued that Christianity could be
divided into three forms: the church, the sect, and
the cult (or the mystic). "The church emphasizes the
sacraments and education; the sect emphasizes
conversion and commitment; the mystic emphasizes inner
experience. All three types are authentically
Christian, each has roots in the New Testament, and
all three have decided strengths as well as
weaknesses, according to Troeltsch." (Garrett Paul,
"Why Troeltsch? Why Today? Theology for the 21st
Century," The Christian Century, June 30, 1993).
But as important as Troeltsch's work remains in
defining the different aspects of the Christian
experience, it, too, fails to get us to the bare
fundamentals of our life in church that I am talking
about. So, instead, I turn to our scripture for the
morning and read these words that describe the life of
the very first church in Jerusalem:
"They devoted
themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship,
to the breaking of bread and the prayers. All who
believed were together and had all things in common."
And I know our first reaction is skepticism. After
all, we know this idealistic image of the early church
is not the whole story. All you have to do is keep
reading in the book of Acts to see that. The early
Christians quickly developed many of the same problems
that still haunt the church today: factionalism,
screwy theology, and power struggles. And I also know
it is naive to look at the beginning of any movement
and say, "Aha, here is the essence of truth and purity
that we must follow." It's just not that simple.
But
sometimes, when life gets complicated and foggy, and
when we are faced with big decisions that leave us
anxious, it can help to go back to the beginning and
remember the basics. Whether it is the beginning of a
relationship that has now grown stale, the beginning
of a plan that has gone off course, or the beginning
of the church, going back to the start of something
can shed light on the darkness that tends to envelop
us.
So, where do we find the answer to that simple
question, "What is the church?" in this passage? For
me, the answer comes in verse 44: "All who believed
were together and had all things in common."
Notice
what is left out of that passage. It doesn't say
anything about theology. It doesn't say they all
believed exactly the same thing. It doesn't say they
all liked the same kind of music in church, or the
same mode of communion, or the same food on Wednesday
nights. It doesn't say they were all alike in any
regard. It simply says they were together and they
shared all that they had with one another. That is the
essence of the church for me.
That's not to say there
is no substantive theological content to our lives
together. After all, we are a people who follow the
life and teachings of Jesus and so we must struggle to
understand what that demands of us. But if we boil our
life at Pullen down to the fundamentals this is the
place we come to be together and to share. And as
ridiculously simplistic as that sounds it is actually
the antidote for so much that ails us.
For in a
culture that reveres the lone wolf individual, and
that stresses the pursuit of personal dreams and
fortunes above all else, to come to this place week
after week to be together and to share is a noble
endeavor. We give ourselves to each other and share
even when our theologies differ dramatically. We give
ourselves to each other and share even when we don't
agree on the war. We give ourselves to each other and
share even when we don't vote the same way on
important matters. The fundamental essence of our life
at Pullen is not that we are all the same, but that we
are all willing to be here together and share our
lives with each other.
By now some of you have shifted from skepticism to
full-blown pessimism because of the naivete of this
sermon. It sounds like I have gone from idealistic
ramblings to just plain old pie-in-the-sky goofiness.
After all, where would we find this kind of unity
within our diversity? Where would we find this spirit
of caring and sharing inside our walls? Well, look no
farther than the balcony to my right where our youth
sit. The youth group in this church, under the
leadership of Randy and our wonderful volunteers, is a
model to us all of what the church is. They are
certainly not perfect, nor are they all the same. But
their sense of being together is critical to them and
their willingness to share who they are and what they
have is admirable. And this morning, as five of them
have gone through the Rite-13 ritual, we have all
pledged to support them as they journey to adulthood.
One of the ways we can provide that support is to
follow their example. Let us all cherish what they
cherish -- each other.
Long before there was something called orthodoxy, and
ordained ministers, and great cathedrals, the church
gathered together and shared all things in common.
There were no creeds, no committees, no anxious votes.
There was just the church, devoting themselves to
teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and
the prayers. And so we pray.