A
People of “Open Hearts”
Matthew 18:15-20
For where two
or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them. Matthew
18:20
When I was a young mother, my family attended the Cathedral
in Salina, KS. The older women in the congregation were burned out from
years of bake sales, refurbishing projects, and staffing Sunday school classes
and the Altar Guild. So it was that the Episcopal Churchwomen’s
organization was nearly defunct. No one would step forth to take
leadership.
To address this vacuum, someone had the bright idea of
infusing new life into the ECW by enlisting the next generation. Thus it
was that I, dewy-eyed and idealistic, became president of the ECW, persuaded
by women whose examples I admired.
In my new role, I gradually became
acquainted with more and more people and was energized by the friendships I
was forming and blessed by the guidance and affirmation of my
mentors.
So I was absolutely incapable of understanding my friend
Carol’s relationship with the church. She had begun attending the
Cathedral at my invitation, but after services, would scurry from the church,
head down, clearly sending out a “Do not disturb” signal. No coffee hour
for her, no volunteering to participate in anything.
Finally,
one day after I had once again invited her to an event and received her
customary refusal, I asked her why she was so reluctant to experience the
fellowship the church had to offer.
Her answer was that her spiritual
life was strictly between her and God and she didn’t need others intruding
upon that relationship.
I have never forgotten what Carol said on that
long ago day and have spent a lifetime forming and reforming my response to
her. That response has varied through the years with my increasing
understanding of and experience with the church as community.
Yes, most
assuredly, one may find God in the solitary experience of nature, in moments
of quiet reflection and prayer, and in those dark nights when God is our sole
companion.
But there is so much more. Fortunately, over time, my
friend Carol learned that together the church is the Body of Christ and that
we are stronger, better, more faithful people when we are “two or three
gathered” in his name.
As John Burton reminded us in last Sunday’s
sermon, at the heart of being the church is the reality that “regardless of
what we do or whether we even like one another, we are part of a family—the
family of God .” [Burton, sermon preached Aug. 31, 2008]
Sacred history
reminds us that this family of God is not without the problems common to all
humanity. What a time Moses had leading the Israelites out of
Egypt! How soon they forgot the injustices and death threats they were
escaping and, instead, began to complain about the hardships of the journey,
trying Moses sorely.
In the Old Testament lessons of the past few
weeks, we have seen how the poison of envy affected the family of
Jacob.
The New Testament reveals considerable discussion among the
disciples as to which of them would be most highly placed in the coming
kingdom, and self-interest is surely at the root of Judas’s betrayal of
Jesus.
And think about Paul–how difficult it must have been to try to
knock some sense into the heads of those Corinthians, Thessalonians,
Ephesians, and the rest, who wanted to have their cake and eat it, too. They
had genuine difficulty understanding why they couldn’t maintain some of their
pagan practices in their new Christian churches.
In every human
relationship there is the potential for negative words and actions to upset or
fragment the members of the community and to serve as obstacles to growth and
change.
In the reading from Matthew appointed for today, we find that
Jesus, ever the realist, prepared his followers for the eventuality of
conflict. He knew that there would be those whose actions would be both
personally sinful and detrimental to the well-being of the group. So he
laid down a process for addressing such issues in love and for maintaining the
health of the whole.
The contemporary theologian Marcus Borg, in his
book The Heart of Christianity, explores what it might mean in a
community to be a person of a “closed heart.” Such a “closed heart,” he
says, is manifest in some of the following ways: it is blind and has limited
vision; it goes with bondage and lacks gratitude; it is insensitive to wonder
and awe and forgets God; a “closed heart” and exile go together; it lacks
compassion and sensitivity to justice. [Borg, pp. 152-153]
Borg goes on
to suggest that our “closed hearts” are protections to defend ourselves
“against an unreliable and hurtful world.” [Borg, p. 153]. Yet these
same “closed hearts” prevent us from living in Christian
community.
In last week’s sermon, John reinforced our calling to
be an “incarnational community—a community that is open, inclusive, accepting,
risk-taking, and transforming.”
To become such an “incarnational
community” requires of us, not “closed,” but “open hearts.” Marcus Borg
describes the benefits when our hearts are open: we see more clearly, we
are alive to wonder and awe, and we practice gratitude, compassion, and a
passion for justice. [Borg, pp. 161-62]
This openness of heart is far
more apt to happen when we invite Christ into our lives and into our
community. “Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about
anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For
where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” [Matt.
18:19-20]
In this place at this time, we are going through a transition
as a church family. It is natural to grieve the old way of being St.
James’ and to be anxious about the future. This is the second time in my
history with this church that we have been temporarily without a
vicar.
Both times I have observed something very reassuring—and that is
our mutual rediscovery of what all of us know deep in our hearts—no matter
what, we are the Church. With God’s help, we are the instruments of
welcome, worship, and service; of healing and transforming.
One thing
is certain: we will not all agree on the qualifications of a new vicar or on
future directions of such things as outreach or evangelism, but we will hold
together as a community. How do I know that?
Because this is a
church family that invites Christ into our midst and gives him a seat at our
deliberations; it is a community that finds Christ in one another; it is a
community that employs hands, minds, and hearts for the welfare of others; and
above all, it is a community that gathers at the altar to open our “closed
hearts” to become one with the communion of saints and fit for service in the
world.
As we know from today’s Gospel passage and from our
own experience, there is a significant difference in a gathering designed to
advance a personal agenda and one gathered in Christ’s name.
So what is
my response to the Carols in my life who question why I need a relationship,
not just with my God, but with my fellow seekers?
I would begin by
telling my friend that I understand her frustration with an institutional
preoccupation with budgets, buildings, and programs; that, yes, I know there
are sinners in the church because I am one of them. I would empathize
with her bafflement over the pettiness of the issues which divide us and her
disappointment when, for whatever reasons, we, as a church, temporarily stray
from our Christ-centered mission. And I would certainly agree with her that we
are flawed human beings.
But I would also tell her what comfort and
strength I receive from my Cursillo reunion group, which begins each meeting
with these words: “Where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with
them.” I would describe the chills that go up and down my spine when the
entire congregation joins as one in a hymn to proclaim the glory of the
Lord. I would share the abundant blessing of those who gathered with me
in prayer at my dying friend’s bedside. And from my heart, I would add,
“Carol, you may not need me, but I need you.”
Above all, I would stress
the life-altering power of the Eucharist as we come together before God as
individuals, yes, but also as one body. Because here at the altar rail,
we can become people of “open hearts”—people who welcome Christ at the center
of our lives.
AMEN.
Laura Shoffner
St. James’
Episcopal Church
Eureka Springs, AR
7 September 2008