No One Left Behind (1 Corinthians 12:12-26)

 Becoming human

In college, I volunteered two years in a row at a haunted house, where all the proceeds went to charity. The first year, they just had me wear a mummy costume. The second year, they hired a professional makeup artist to apply realistic-looking wounds and other hideous features to us, and I thought, that’s pretty cool, how they can transform a person into a monster or a half-dead human with makeup.

And that’s how I started watching Star Trek.

One day, I turned on the TV, and I saw those actors portraying Klingons and other non-human beings, and I was impressed by how they were transformed into their characters thanks to some pretty amazing makeup artists. 

My excitement over the makeup didn’t last; but something else kept me watching Star Trek: the ethical issues raised in many of its episodes.

For example, it would often happen that a crew member or a small “away team” got into trouble, and their lives were in danger. And sometimes, a risky rescue would be the only way to save them.

Logically, it didn’t make sense to risk the lives of the entire crew and all the passengers of the Starship Enterprise for the sake of just one or even a few crew members. 

This was Jean-Luc Picard’s Enterprise, which held about 1,000 crew and passengers. So, if one crew member was stranded somewhere, and if there was almost no chance of a successful rescue, and if any rescue attempt would likely jeopardize the lives of everyone on the starship, it wouldn’t make sense - it wouldn’t be logical - to risk losing all those lives to save just one life.

But they always did it. They always took that risk.

And for Data - the android who spent the entire series learning what it means to be human - it didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense to risk losing 1,000 lives for the sake of one life.  But every time it happened, Data just added that experience to his ever-growing database of what it means to be human.

The Body of Christ

In the book of 1 Corinthians, the apostle Paul presents his views on what it means to be human. More specifically, he presents his views on what it means to be humans who are created by God, given life by God, and called to live lives that are holy.

And in the 12th chapter, Paul compares the community of believers, and humanity in general, to a body. And, he says, the body is not whole if any part is missing. An eye, an ear, a nose - each part is essential. 

And then Paul says that “the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable;” and he says that “God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, [so] the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.”

I didn’t make the connection between Star Trek and this Bible passage all those years ago, but I do make that connection now. Not only is every member important; those we think are inferior are actually greater in God’s eyes. And if they suffer, or if they are lost, that affects the entire body. 

Because we are not whole without each other. 

And that, as far as I can tell, is the only logical reason why Captain Picard would risk the lives of the entire ship if it meant they might be able to save the life of a single crew member. Because of the way humanity is all bound up together, to lose any single person would mean that every person is lost. To lose any single person would mean that the entire crew was no longer whole.

A Network of Mutuality

It’s the same logic that we find in the parable Jesus told, about the shepherd who leaves his flock of 99 in order to go find the one sheep that is lost. On a strictly logical level, doing that makes no sense. But when we remember that we are all connected - that “we are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny,” as Martin Luther King, Jr., said - then it becomes the only ethical choice.

Unfortunately, we live in a society that is all too willing to leave people behind. In fact, it’s not just one or two people; in some cases, we’re leaving vast numbers of people behind.

Our economic system leaves people behind. Wages for the poor are not increasing, even though corporations continue to make record profits. In 2021, corporate profits in the United States climbed 10.5% to a record high of 2.44 trillion dollars.

Walmart, Amazon, Apple, Microsoft, Facebook, Toyota, Proctor & Gamble, Home Depot, Kroger - all raked in huge profits - record-breaking profits - in 2021. Shipping companies also made record profits - their profits jumped 900% in 2021. For them, the economy is doing great!

But wages have not gone up. Wages remain low, while prices are going up. People complain about inflation, but what they don’t realize is that rising prices aren’t being caused by the cost of goods, or supply chain issues, or low-wage workers demanding better pay. Rising prices are being caused by the greed of corporations and billionaires.

And everyone else is being left behind.

Another company that is on that list is Pfizer. Pfizer made big money in 2021. We’re all thankful for the vaccines that are saving lives, but we know that our health care system has corporate profits as its first goal, and that it still leaves so many people behind. 

People are being left behind when it comes to democracy.

We have politicians actively trying to deny black and low-income voters access to the polls, effectively pushing them further behind, leaving them behind. This is on top of an electoral college system that gives the average Black voter 16% less power than the average white voter. And polling locations in predominantly Black neighborhoods have much longer waits than polling places where there are few Black people.

So many people in our society are being left behind.

But in the kingdom of God, no one gets left behind, because everyone matters. Every life matters. Every poor life. Every black life. Every trans life. Every Asian life. Every young life. Every old life. Every immigrant life.

Every life matters.

And the moment we speak or act on the idea that some lives don’t matter as much as others, we begin to lose our humanity. We begin to lose what makes us holy. We begin to lose what makes us whole.

Every Individual Matters

This is all something I’ve had to learn, because, in some ways, my mind operates a little too much like Data the android, or like Spock from the original series. I sometimes do think too logically. And years ago, when I’d watch Star Trek, and they’d make the illogical decision to go rescue that stranded crew member, I was torn. Part of me cheered; and a part of me thought they were fools - the same part of me that thought that, maybe, Thanos - who wiped out half of humanity with a snap of his fingers - was right.

Thank God that logical part of me isn’t the only part of my brain that’s active. Logic is good, logic is a gift, but by itself it is incomplete. Like Jane Goodall says in her new book that I’m currently halfway through: humanity is incredibly intelligent, but we need to have wisdom to go with it. No doubt it is her wisdom that leads her to proclaim that “every individual matters.”

And thank God that I see the power and the sacred truth of what Paul said, and what Martin Luther King, Jr., said, about how we are all connected, and how even one life matters to all the rest.

Because if that one life no longer matters - if we are willing to sacrifice the weak - then we’ve lost what makes us human. We’ve lost our ability to love. We’ve lost our ability to show compassion. And we’ve become something far less than what we are capable of becoming, of what we are called to become.

What today’s lesson teaches is that I am not who I am apart from you. We are not who we are apart from one another. Even the smallest, most insignificant member is vital to our identity, because no one is insignificant in God’s eyes. 

If I’m willing to let that one crew member remain lost and stranded because I think that’s what’s best for the rest of us, then I’m actually the one who’s become lost. I’ve lost my ability to love, to show compassion; I’ve lost what it is that makes me human. 

And it feels weird to preach on this, because I think some of you already know this and understand this teaching better than I do, and I’m constantly learning from you. 

Rescued, healed, made whole

I’m constantly learning from our elders, the way they remember each of our members in their thoughts and their prayers, reminding me of those who, in other circumstances or situations, might easily be forgotten or overlooked. Members who have moved away, or whose health keeps them confined to home - our elders won’t let me forget about them, and I’m thankful to them for that.

Because sometimes other concerns overwhelm my mind, like the sermon I’m working on, and how to adapt ministry to a time of pandemic, and how to keep up with my reading and study, and what activities we should be doing, particularly with our youth, and what activities should we not be doing right now because so many people are getting sick, and how to spread the message of God’s love to those beyond our walls, and how to draw more people into the church for their sake and for ours…

And there’s the anxiety of knowing we live in a time when so many do not really care about the wellbeing of their neighbors, people who value their own privilege and right to convenience over the safety and wellbeing of others, and even though I feel called to teach people to love and to show care, I sometimes throw my hands up in the air and wonder if it’s even possible, to make people care anymore. 

But then I see people who have learned to care, who have learned to love, who have learned to show compassion, and who are always looking out for those who have been left behind, those who have been forgotten, those who have been overlooked by society. 

And I realize that if I ever forget this; if I ever forget the importance of rescuing the one stranded crew member, if I ever forget to seek the one lost sheep, then I’m actually the one who is lost; I’m the one who has strayed from the path of love that we are called to follow.

That’s why I need to be a part of a community that keeps me from getting lost, and it’s why I continue to rely on the grace of God - the God who will never abandon or forsake any of the sheep, but who always seeks out the lost, the wayward, the prodigal; and who always welcomes and embraces all those who need to be rescued, healed, and made whole.

Sermon: "Ubuntu" (1 Corinthians 12)

This summer at Loch Leven, each day of camp will feature a different theme, a different Bible story, and a different word of the day. I am taking those seven days and turning them into seven sermons, to help me get ready for camp, and to highlight the connection between camp and congregational life.
The second day of camp will feature the scripture we just heard. I know: we read this scripture in worship already this year, at the end of January. But it’s good to hear it again.
It’s part of Paul’s first letter to the people of Corinth, people who were having a hard time working together, being church together. They let their differences get in the way. They divided themselves from one another, based on wealth, status, experience, and other factors. Perhaps they grew impatient with one another based on the imperfections they saw in each other.
So Paul writes to remind them that they may all be different, with different gifts and abilities; but they are all one body.
The word of the day for the second day at camp is ubuntu, an word which derives from several African languages, and which (roughly translated) means “you are who you are because of how you are connected to those around you.”
You are who you are because of how you are connected to those around you. Or, in a more Christian context: you are who you are because of how the Spirit connects you to those around you.
Thinking about this reminds me of the day I was ordained.
I don’t know how many of you have ever been to an ordination service. Some of you may have been to a rare double ordination service which took place when Elaine Schoepf and her mother Gayle Schoepf were both ordained on the same day.
A mother and daughter ordained together into Christian ministry - you certainly don’t see that every day! And they are a part of our church’s history.
But many of you, I suspect, have never been to an ordination ceremony. You’ve probably already figured out that an ordination ceremony is a special worship service that takes place when a person has completed all their training and education for ordained ministry.
My own ordination ceremony took place on the third Sunday of January, 1998 (over 20 years ago!), at the church where I grew up: Little White Chapel Christian Church in Burbank.
Ron Degges, who was then the pastor of Little White Chapel, and Ken Scovill, who was the pastor there when I was growing up, both took part. The church choir rehearsed and presented a special song just for the occasion. A representative from First Christian Church in Morro Bay, where I had just begun serving as minister, participated in the service, along with leaders from Little White Chapel and representatives from the regional church.
A lot took place that day, but the thing I remember most was the laying on of hands. I’m pretty sure I was asked to kneel (it’s been awhile) and then the hands of those representatives and leaders were placed on my shoulders, along with other hands… and I could feel the weight of those hands bearing down on me as a rather lengthy prayer was said on my behalf.
And I could feel the weight of those hands pressing down, and pressing in, the hands on my right side pushing me a little to the left, and the hands on my left side pushing me a little to the right, and at times it felt like the pressure wasn’t quite going to balance out, and I felt my body swaying back and forth.
No one noticed this but me. It was very slight. But it was enough to cause my thoughts to drift away from the prayer that was being said, and to start to wonder, almost in a panic, if those hands were going to push me enough to cause me to fall over - and wouldn’t that be embarrassing!
I fought against the pressure I felt. If I felt like I was being pushed to the left, I fought to move back to the right. If I felt like I was being pushed to the right, I fought to move myself back to the left. In my determination to stay centered and upright, it felt like a battle between me and the hands that were on my shoulders.
But… as the prayer continued… something changed.
I’m not sure what it was that led to this change. Perhaps it was the words of the prayer - the ones I heard, and the ones I didn’t hear. But an idea popped into my head, a voice that said: stop fighting. Stop resisting. Let go, and trust.
So I did. I stopped trying to resist the pressure of the hands I felt. And guess what happened?
The hands held me up! Instead of knocking me over, the hands held me up.
The lesson of that day has stuck with me ever since. We live in the most individualized society the earth has ever seen. We prize independence above all else. We think we are our own creation, that our lives are our own, our lives are what we ourselves make of them, that our destiny is our own to create.
But that is not true.
We are connected. We are connected to our families. We are connected to our friends. We are connected to our communities. We are connected to our church.
And these connections help make us what and who we are.
How often do we fight against the hands that are working to hold us up? In the past, we’ve been hurt, we’ve been knocked down; so we become skeptical, and we resist any attempts to help us, we resist any attempts to connect. We can say to ourselves, “I can make it on my own.”
But there are people who are reaching out to hold us up. They have held us up in the past, they hold us up now, and they will hold us up in the future.
And, in return, we have the opportunity to hold them up as well.
And we do this, because the Spirit binds us into one body. In our families, in our church, in our community, there really is no “me” apart from “you.”
And I cannot ever be happy if you are not happy. And you cannot ever be happy if I am not happy. Our happiness, our joy, is bound together.
That’s what love does. If you love your spouse, you are not happy unless your spouse is happy. If you love your child, you are not happy unless your child is happy. If you love your neighbor, you are not happy unless your neighbor is happy.
Which means I cannot be free if you are not free. I cannot be whole if you are broken. I cannot be saved if you are not saved.
That’s how God created us.
I think this awareness is one of the things that gives me patience with the church. The church is not perfect. The people in the church are not perfect. We make mistakes. And I know people who get so frustrated and impatient with the imperfections of the church, whether it’s at a congregational, regional, or denominational level.
But most people in the church truly do have their hearts in the right place.
(I’m not talking about those leaders we hear about in the news, who have abused their positions of leadership, and abused those under their care. They do need to be held accountable. I’m talking about most of the people you and I know, the vast majority who are committed to doing what is good and right, and who do it imperfectly, as we all do.)
Knowing that we really are all connected, that we are all parts of one body, that we are all called upon to hold each other up as we do the work God has called us to do… allows me to have patience, and to have a forgiving heart, when it comes to relating to the people I work with.
We all have our strengths, we all have our gifts, and they are not all the same. However, I can hold you up by using the gifts God has given me, and you can hold me up by using the gifts God has given you. That’s how we become a community. That’s how we practice ubuntu.
And the church and the community can and should be a place where it is safe for you to fall, safe for you to fail, because you know that when you do, others will hold you up. And it should be a place where others feel safe to fall, feel safe to fail, because they know you will hold them up.
A lot of the games we play and activities we do at camp reinforce this idea. At the lower end of camp there are two trees that growing in such a way that they look like twins - siamese twins, almost, since they come together at the trunk. We call these trees Gemini.
And campers are encouraged to put on a harness and climb one of the trees, all the way to the top, where they can ring a bell.
But what happens if they fall? A counselor or staff member is holding on to the rope, and will catch them if they fall. In fact, once they’ve reached the top, the easiest way down is for them to let go, and let the staff member gently lower them down to the ground.
Another activity at camp is called the leap of faith, in which campers actually jump off a platform that’s 30 feet in the air. But of course, they are harnessed and attached to a rope, (and these ropes are tested to something like 5,000 pounds), and a staff member or counselor is at the other end of that rope, and the camper is gently and safely lowered to the ground.
How wonderful it would be if we could always know that, anytime we fall - even if it’s a big fall, from 30 feet up in the air, that our community, our church, will catch us, and safely and gently lower us to the ground!
Certainly, we are called to take risks in ministry. In the church, we encourage people to take risks. For some, it’s a huge risk to stand in front of the congregation and speak. I’ve seen many people step into the lectern and lead worship for the first time, and seen their anxiety and nervousness. And yet every time they make a mistake (and anyone who speaks in public will, at some point, mess up)... Anytime that happens, the congregation catches them, supports them and holds them up. The congregation does not let them fall.
I can’t end this sermon without reminding you what the word religion really means. Religion comes from the Latin word religio & religare, which mean “to bind or connect.”
Religion is all about connecting.
Religion is all about connecting to God, and connecting to one another. Religion is all about understanding that we are all connected in the Spirit, who makes us one.
And unfortunately, religion has done a lot of dividing over the years, and continues to divide and separate people today. But that’s not true religion. True religion connects. True religion unites. True religion binds people into one.
True religion reminds us that we are all one family - one human family, with one heavenly parent. Our identity is wrapped up in this. We are who we are because of our connections. Without you, I would not be me. Without that person sitting next to you, or behind you, or in front of you, you would not be you. It is our connections, as much as anything else, that make us who we are.

Sermon: "Many Gifts One Spirit" (1 Corinthians 12)

Why did God create us so different? Is our diversity - our different languages, different cultures, different ways of doing things - a blessing or a curse? Why are some created to be gay and others created to be straight? Why are there different religions? Why didn’t God just make things clearer, with less room for different understandings?

I used to think (as a child) that it would be better if we were all the same - or, at least, that we could OVERCOME all our differences. And by OVERCOMING them, erase them.

The differences that lead so many to prejudice and hate… they seem to cause hardship and heartache for so many - those oppressed because of religion, nation, language, race, orientation…  and God wants us to be happy… to find peace and joy and satisfaction.

In Isaiah 55, God says to the prophet: “Enjoy the richest of feasts… Why spend your earnings for what doesn’t satisfy?”

So God wants us to be satisfied. To find satisfaction. To find peace and joy.

Why did God create us all so different if these differences lead to so much discord and conflict? Why not just make us all the same? Why give us all different experiences, different cultures, different understandings, and different gifts?

For the past 10 days I have been experiencing a culture that is different than my own - the culture of Puerto Rico.

Puerto Rico is different - and it’s also very far away.

I grew up less than 30 miles from here, but Puerto Rico is some 4,000 miles away. I spent most of yesterday flying back home across five time zones to get back home, from a rainy 80 degrees in San Juan, to a layover in Chicago where it was zero degrees, then to 80 degrees here in beautiful southern California.

The trip I went on was sponsored by the Global Ministries committee of our regional church, the CC (DOC) PSWR. I am the new co-chair of this committee, which operates jointly with the So Cal Conf. of the United Church of Christ…. So it seemed like a good idea for me to go on this trip, to learn what the committee is really all about.

At least, it seemed a good idea to Ginger and to a few other people. So I went.

When I was asked to be the co-chair of this committee, I said yes for THREE reasons.

1. I HAD been looking for a way to get more involved in regional work in some way. I’ve always been involved with camping ministry at Loch Leven, our regional camp, but I haven’t had much to do with regional committees or boards.
2. The mission of Global Ministries is something I feel called to…. I was once asked if I would chair the regional finance committee, but that’s not really my calling. But Global Ministries - I can relate to that.
3. I believe the work G.M. does is strongly connected to who we are at BKCC, and the work we do here. It has long been important to this congregation that WE celebrate the diversity that exists within the body of Christ. We are a multi-cultural, multi-racial congregation, with members from a number of different countries, and an online presence that has drawn interest from dozens of countries around the world…a congregation that welcomes and affirms the spiritual gifts of all people, including people of different races, nations, cultures, sexual orientations, and gender identities.

Yes, God created us to be diverse. Different. And the people of P.R. - and their culture - ARE very different from my own.

But is that good or bad?

After flying overnight to Puerto Rico a week and a half ago, our plane landed just before sunrise. Our flight actually landed a few minutes early - and that was the only time anything happened early for the rest of our stay. After that, we are on Puerto Rico time.

About two hours later, our host Jose arrived in a 15-passenger van to pick us up. We were hungry, and Jose said he knew just the place to take us.

15 minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of a large city shopping mall. Jose was taking us to the food court.

(pulling into the parking structure…)

Soon we arrived at Camp Morton, where we would sleep and eat most of our meals. This is the same camp Tristan attended 2 ½ years ago; but the camp looks quite different today.

A year after Tristan’s visit, Hurricane Maria hit. Many of the camp’s trees were blown down, including most of the pine trees on the hill above camp.

Many mudslides took place all over camp, including one that buried the camp’s basketball court under 10 feet of mud. And, like the rest of PR, the camp was without power for many months.

Since then, most of the mud has been moved and graded, and the power has come back. However, the camp became a center for rebuilding efforts for the surrounding communities, and it remains so today.

That’s why we went there.

It will be another year before Camp Morton is able to host youth camps again.

We learned that over 3,000 people died in PR because of Hurricane Maria. After the hurricane, another 300,000 people left the island. This makes economic recovery even more difficult. In some ways, PR will never fully recover.

During our time in PR we noticed that many people and businesses still had their christmas lights and decorations up. Manuel, another of our hosts, told us that last year, no one had Christmas lights up, because there was no power. They’re leaving their lights and decorations up extra long this year to make up for not really being able to celebrate Christmas last year.

Camp Morton is owned by the CC(DOC) in PR. Over 100 years ago, missionaries from our church, the CC(DOC) in the U.S. & Canada, sent missionaries to PR.

Today the Disciples in PR have a strong relationship with Disciples in the US, even though we are two separate organizations. Last Sunday my group went to worship at one of the 106 Disciples congregations in PR. Their 2-hour worship service started the way ours often starts, with a praise band leading the congregation in song.

But Puerto Rican Disciples worship in a much more charismatic way, which was startling to some in our group. They also have a strong emphasis on prayer, which I appreciated and learned from and was inspired by.

They had a guest preacher last week: Huberto Pimentel, who actually was active here in our own region for a number of years, providing leadership at DSF and in other ways. I heard him preach once at our regional assembly, in English, but of course last week in PR, his sermon was in Spanish.

I understand less than 10% of the spoken Spanish I hear. It was easy for me to follow the scripture reading, since I was already well-familiar with it in English. It was the story of the paralytic lying on his mat next to the pool, hoping to be healed by Jesus. And when Jesus came along and saw him, Jesus looked at him and said, “Quieres ser sano?” And I understood that, in part because I knew the story, and in part because those are words I actually know in spanish. “Quieres ser sano?” Do you want to be healed?

I also understood when Huberto Pimentel said: “No es facil, pero es posible.” It’s not easy, but it is possible.

I’m not 100% sure what the context of that was, but it made me think of what we’re doing here at BKCC: our New Beginnings program, transformation, and re-inventing ourselves.

No es facil, pero es posible.

It’s not easy, but it’s possible.

And from that point on in our trip, I was eager to return home to BKCC and continue with you our work of accomplishing things that may not be easy, but - with God’s help - are possible.

But I couldn’t do that yet - we still had a week to go.

The work we did took place mostly at homes in Barranquitas and Orocovis. I was on a roof for most of the week - a flat roof - pressure washing and sealing. Most of the houses are made of concrete and have flat roofs. This helped them withstand the hurricane, but they still needed repairs.

Our 2 hosts, Jose and Manuel, were different from each other, and of course, they were different from us. Even within our own group, there were differences among us, which we quickly recognized. At times this led to frustration. But at other times, our differences allowed us to work together, using each person’s gifts, to accomplish goals and overcome obstacles.

Some were good and keeping us on track and organized. Some were good at lightening our moods and lifting our spirits when things got frustrating. Some were able to keep us spiritually grounded. Some were physically strong. Some were able to guide us with wisdom.

What would this trip have been like if we were all the same, and if we all had the same gifts?

Well, for one thing, there probably wouldn’t have been a trip. What would be its purpose?

But because we are all created differently, with different gifts, we were able to learn from one another, enrich one another, and grow together in ways that were of great benefit to us and to the communities we come from.

Once upon a time, mission work was one directional. Members of one culture and religion went to another culture to give their gifts of knowledge and insight. They shared their gifts in the lands they went to, and sometimes they did it regardless of whether the inhabitants of those lands wanted to receive their gifts or not. In other words, they forced it upon them, sometimes with tragic results.

Mission work today involves a mutual sharing and receiving of gifts. We went to PR to receive the gifts they had to share with us just as much as, if not more than, we went to share our gifts with them.

It’s humbling to admit this.

It’s humbling to admit that someone else may, in some area, be more spiritually gifted than we are.

But it’s a humble-ness - a humility - that we need. There’s far too much arrogance and prejudice in this world on the part of people who think they have all the knowledge, all the understanding, all the insight, all the wisdom.

When we consider the diversity of gifts, and the diversity of humanity - and we do so with a humble spirit and open heart - we find a greater richness and a greater depth than we ever possibly could if this diversity did not exist. And this leads us to the greatest gift of all, the gift of love.

That’s the topic of the next chapter of first Corinthians, and the topic of next week’s sermon...

One Body in Christ (1 Corinthians 12:4-13)

Every year, toward the end of September, the Disciples of Christ emphasize the ministry of reconciliation; and although reconciliation occurs in many ways and circumstances, it is usually racial reconciliation that we are talking about.

Our denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), has set forth four priorities to guide us. One is to develop 1,000 new congregations. Another is to revitalize 1,000 existing congregations. A third is to develop and train leaders. And the fourth is to be an anti-racist, pro-reconciliation church.

Our reconciliation emphasis includes the opportunity to contribute to an above-and-beyond offering for reconciliation ministry. Every year, I feel called to connect my preaching to this important ministry. This year, however, three questions have been nagging at me:

1. Why should racial reconciliation be a priority for the church?
2. What good is accomplished by our reconciliation ministry?
3. Who am I to speak about such things?

The last question is, for me, the most difficult. I can only think of one time that I ever experienced racism myself—and, being so unaccustomed to it, I didn’t even recognize it for what it was.

My family had taken a camping trip. Three teenage boys, participants in our church’s youth program and frequent raiders of our cupboards and refrigerator, came with us.

We pulled into the campground, which was privately owned, as the sun was setting. We had a reserved campsite, and I slowly drove through the campground looking for it. Because the light was fading, we couldn’t find it, so we parked, and started walking around, searching for the campsite that was ours.

After just a few minutes, the campground manager came out of his office and hobbled over in my direction. Great, I thought; he can help me find our campsite.

I said hello, but he neither smiled nor offered a word of welcome. “This is a family park,” he grumbled. “Come in a little easier next time.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, since I had made a special effort to drive slowly and watch for children playing in the road. So I said, “Excuse me?”

He said, “Our quiet hours are at 10:00! Try and be respectful of others.”

I looked at my watch. It was 8:30.

I was really upset by this. Why was he treating me so rudely? I looked at Ginger. I looked at Ethan and Tristan. I looked at the three teenagers: Dallas, with his bleach blond hair and freckled cheeks; Spencer, with his long, black cornrows pulled back from his dark brown face; and Stephen, with his straight black hair almost—but not quite—hiding his slanted eyes….

I still didn’t know why the camp manager was so upset….Which is why I ask, “Who am I to speak of such things?” But the teenagers knew. And when I suggested that we leave and camp at a different campground down the road, they quietly agreed.

Why should racial reconciliation be a priority for the church? To answer that, we turn to scripture. Scripture tells us that, in the kingdom of God, there are no divisions. In that new world that Christ proclaims, the boundaries that divide people from one another are erased. The walls are torn down, laid low by the power of love. Leaders become servants, and servants become leaders. The first become last, and the last, first. Those who seek honor for themselves are humbled, and those who humble themselves are lifted up, for all are one in the eyes of God.

This is what was on Paul’s mind when he wrote his first letter to the Corinthians. In that letter, he writes: “I hear that there are divisions among you…”

These divisions are troubling to Paul. Apparently, when the Corinthians would gather for worship, some were insisting on taking a place of honor; something that they were used to doing whenever they’d gather for a banquet.

After all, Corinth was a Greek city, a focus of commerce and trade in the heart of the Roman Empire; and in the Roman Empire, “social and economic order was built on an elaborate and interlocking system of hierarchies bound together by ‘patronage.’” (I’m quoting Rick Lowery, a Disciples seminary professor.) There was a stepladder of rank and hierarchy, which extended all the way up to Caesar himself, the one who was said to be the “son of God” and the “father of the fatherland.” (Remember that from last week?)

At any public gathering in the Roman Empire, people—men—situated themselves according to this hierarchy. It’s the way it was always done. It’s what they were used to, especially in Corinth. To change to a new way of doing things is hard. The church today knows something about that, right?To change to a new way of doing things is hard!

Paul writes to the Corinthians to tell them that the way they are doing things is the way of the empire; and the way of the empire, Paul says, is inconsistent and incompatible with the way of Christ.

For those who follow the way of Christ, there are no social divisions!

For those who follow the way of Christ, there is one Spirit. There is one body. And there is one table.

And at this one table, all are welcome. Men and women. Slaves and free. Jews and Gentiles. Rich and poor. Mighty and meek.

And at this one table, they are united in the body of Christ. There are many members, all joined together in one body.

It is very easy to allow the way of the empire to influence life in the church, because the way of the empire includes and encompasses just about everything we experience. To open one’s eyes to the way of Christ involves a huge leap of faith. It’s like in the movie The Matrix, when Neo, the main character, learns to open his eyes to a whole new reality, a whole new world, one that is so completely different from everything he thought was real. Indeed, the kingdom of God is a whole new reality.

A new world in which social divisions do not exist was a difficult thing for the Corinthians to understand. I think they knew enough to recognize immediately the truth of Paul’s words. But there’s still a large gap between knowing what the kingdom is like, and living in that kingdom. So often, the influence of this world is just too strong.

Is it really all that different today?

The Disciples are, as a recent issue of DisciplesWorld magazine pointed out, “amazingly diverse…. The denomination’s roots in the Christian unity movement predisposed it toward inclusion rather than isolation, further clearing the way for today’s diverse collection of congregation’s and members.”

The number of racial and ethnic minorities in the Disciples church is growing amazingly fast. The past decade has seen the largest increase in new congregations in our history, and 80 percent of our new congregations serve minority groups. It may surprise you to learn that Haitian congregations alone account for almost 20 percent of all new Disciples congregations.

But still, as DisciplesWorld magazine points out, we are “part of the larger society. The church struggles with the legacy of racism and exclusion in North America. The church has participated in broad systems of interaction and organization that benefit from racism, even if the individuals in the systems have not intended to do so. Struggles around race, but also gender, sexual orientation, and theological differences, continue to haunt the church.”

So… We know that racism has been the predominant social divider in American history; we know that, despite our best efforts, racism has influenced our life as a church; and we know that racism, thought it may reflect the ways of the empire, it does not reflect the way of Christ and Christ’s kingdom.

That is why we continue to work to be an anti-racist, pro-reconciliation church. That is why we still have a reconciliation ministry.

To look at it on a more personal level, I’d like to tell you about a friend of mine. We went to seminary together, she and I, and discovered that, at least when it came to theological understanding, we had a lot in common. We became conversation partners, discussing the different theological ideas that were presented to us, and I was always amazed by her insight. When it came to theology, she was sharp.

However, unlike me, she could not find a church to serve. Some churches wouldn’t call her as their pastor because she spoke with an accent. Other churches had no problem with her accent, but would not call her because she was a woman.

These days, I can hear the bitterness in her voice; and is it any wonder? The social divisions of the world continue to creep into the church.

That is why the reconciliation ministry of our church is still so important.

So what good is accomplished by our reconciliation ministry? When I was in northern California, I would attend the regional assemblies that took place every year. One year, the First Mongolian Christian Church youth choir performed, to the delight of the assembly.

First Mongolian Christian Church has an interesting history. Several years ago, Ogi Luvsan began attending First Korean Christian Church of Oakland. He was fluent in both Korean and Mongolian, and began inviting other Mongolians to join him. With help from the region, translation devices soon began translating the Korean worship into Mongolian.

Eventually the Mongolians, under Luvsan’s leadership, founded their own congregation. A reconciliation grant helped them start English language classes. They help immigrants find jobs. And they continue to demonstrate that the church is inclusive of all people by inviting women to preach and be leaders in the church.

At our own regional gathering, taking place a few weeks from now in Fullerton, I expect that worship services will be translated into several different languages. We have not yet achieved perfection when it comes to tearing down the walls of racism and prejudice, but we have made a lot of progress. It is always exciting to see social divisions overcome when many members become one body at the table of the Lord.

Who am I to speak of such things? I said that that was a difficult question to answer, but now I realize that my answer came even before I asked the question. I started this sermon by saying that I feel called to preach on reconciliation. Who am I to speak of such things? I am one who is called.

I am one who is called to preach reconciliation. I am one who is called to cast aside the social divisions of our world. I am one who is called to follow the way of Christ, to live in Christ’s kingdom, where there are indeed many members, but one body, and one table.

The following sources were used in the preparation of this sermon:
Rick Lowery, “Reconciliation Offering Bible Study”. (www.reconciliationministry.org).
Verity Jones, “A Beautiful Tapestry of Diversity” DisciplesWorld, July/August, 2009.
Joel Brown, “Mongolian Immigrants Find New Home in Disciples Congregation” DisciplesWorld, July/August, 2009.