Monday, August 2, 2021

You and I are the Body of Christ. August 1, 2021. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

Ephesians 4:1-16

The youth met for lunch, the men met for breakfast, and the women met for Refresh. We had two engaging Bible studies, and a faithful cohort gathered for the weekly session of Conversations in Faith. There were meetings to discuss everything from Sunday bulletins to live-streaming our worship services. Scores of emails and phone calls flew back and forth. Our Food Pantry gave out food to people who need it. Yesterday we buried Caroline Planting, and loved her husband Mark through it. Today we are baptizing an entire family. We’re about to give each other the Peace of Christ, and then in a few minutes we will all eat Jesus. A week in the life of the church. We won’t find any of those activities referred to in this passage from Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus. And I can’t imagine what Paul would think about things like broadcasting the Eucharist on YouTube. But if he doesn’t mention any one of these activities, he beautifully articulates why we do all of them. The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ. You and I are the body of Christ, and in all that we do, we are here to build each other up. 


This was a revelation for me as a young adult. I loved the liturgy of the church. I relished the ancient traditions and the mystery that surrounds the Holy Eucharist. But the church as community? Not so much. I wanted to have my own personal experience of God that wasn't complicated by or dependent upon other people. So a key part of my own conversion process was not coming to believe in the reality of God (which I never really doubted) but coming to believe in the necessity of church. In a dawning realization that was both painful and life-giving, I came to see that I needed other people to fully experience God. I needed help learning to pray. I needed mentors to guide me. More than that, I needed people to love me and show me the face of Christ. And I desperately needed people to do that with kindness, without judging me or in any way putting me down. And I still do. So I hear these words of Paul today with a tender heart:  I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.


Of course I share that with you because I know I’m not unique. Whether we care to admit it or not, whether we like it or not, we all need each other to know God. Jesus did not just give people mystical and moral instruction: he formed a community, a community that would literally embody his love and his presence so that people could see it, hear it, feel it, taste it. You and I are the body of Christ, and we are here to build each other up. Gently, patiently, lovingly build each other up. Obviously I hope everyone here has experienced that. I hope we have all felt uplifted by this parish in one way or another. But here is my second revelation regarding this. While it is wonderful and needful to be on the receiving end of such caring, grace abounds all the more when we are doing the building up ourselves.


Let me be very clear about the point I am about to make. I am not saying that we should love and care for each other because other people need us and it’s the right thing to do. That’s true, but it doesn’t go far enough and doesn’t adequately convey Paul’s message in this passage. So here’s my point: When we build others up, we ourselves are built up because it is only in giving ourselves away that we can fully become who we are called to be. Paul emphasizes that we are all given gifts of the Holy Spirit, we all have ways in which God moves through us, but those gifts are only given to us so that we can give them away. They only become gifts when we use them to love other people. And only in loving others like that do we come to maturity, to the full stature of Christ, who reflects God so perfectly only because he gives himself away so completely. It is the great paradox Jesus reveals in the Gospels: those who lose their lives will save them, those who give themselves away will find themselves. 


We can experience that paradox in our families, our workplaces, and elsewhere, but it’s here in church, in Christian community, that we are reminded how true this is: the more we build others up, the more we are built up. Parish life is complicated and not always easy, but I know I am most myself when I try to convey to you the love of God, when I teach and preach, when I celebrate and put the Sacrament into your hands. And all of us are called to a similar experience. Think about how you are building others up here at church. Even being here today and not sleeping in or visiting the golf course  is a way of building others up: the more people who come to worship, the more energy there is, the more ways there are for the Holy Spirit to move. Consider the groups you are part of or the ministries you participate in. Just think about how you interact with people when you are here. All of us should have that experience of building up and being built up. For the ways you see that happening in your own life, give thanks. And if it’s not happening, please hear this homily as an invitation to get more involved perhaps or at least to see your involvement differently. You and I are the Body of Christ. We are here, in all that we do, to build each other up and in doing so to become our truest and best selves.


No comments:

Post a Comment