August 09, 2009

The story goes that 50 days after Mary discovered the empty tomb, the disciples gathered in a safe house in Jerusalem.  Still at a loss as to what to do next, they met to plan and pray, debrief and strategize.  Having been a part of something novel and grand, noble and innovative, personal and sweeping, those first followers of Jesus didn’t know where to go now that their leader had disappeared.  Returning to their old lives as fishermen, tradesmen, and tax collectors seemed impossible.  Going back to their day jobs and neighborhoods was unthinkable.  They each had caught an unexpected glimpse of heaven.  They each had been given a clear view into the heart of God.  They saw what life on earth was meant to be.  The first disciples had touched the dream of God.  It descended right upon them in their day-to-day encounters with Jesus Christ.

After that heady company, after living that intense reality, how does one go back to a pedestrian life?  One can’t, and that is why the disciples, Peter and Andrew, Philip, James and John, Thomas, Simon, Matthew, the other James, Thaddeus, Bartholomew and some others whose names we don’t know, were crammed into that house.  Unable to disconnect from one another, paralyzed by confusion and grief, they needed direction and confidence.  And so, just as Jesus promised, a guide came to them.  On that 50^th day, into the middle of their doubt and unease, the Comforter, the Advocate, the spirit of calm and knowledge arrived.  God’s Holy Spirit came upon them and cleared the fog of their minds, calmed the anxiety of their hearts and drew out their zeal and sense of purpose.  On the day of Pentecost, those closest to Christ received their marching orders.

By the grace of God, they were equipped and empowered to move out of that boarded up house.  They unrolled a map, plotted routes, picked a companion, packed a lunch and headed out.  That’s all they had.  A map, a lunch, a friend, the experience of living day and night with Emmanuel, “God with us” was what the disciples left with, that plus the gifts of the Spirit.  With those provisions, these very ordinary men and women traveled out of ancient Palestine and made their way around the known world.  They told their story to skeptical, hostile communities.  They persisted.  They prevailed.  They were martyred.  Their message lived on.

It is an amazing, miraculous feat that after the execution of Jesus, his call exploded.  In this lifetime, he touched and converted a few thousand.  In his death, his friends carried his saving words to the ends of the earth.  Think on this.  People who never, ever heard the voice of Jesus, never, ever saw him in person, never, ever experienced his personal magnetism or profound charisma, his intensity and sincerity were still led to belief.  By the witness of his first followers, by their conviction, strangers were persuaded.  Imagine.  Pagans, tree worshippers, people who had no conception of one singular Almighty God came to accept both the worldly and eternal view of Jesus Christ.  Imagine.  People long, long steeped in the covenant of Abraham, the law of Moses, the kingship of David, the prophesy of Isaiah came to accept the new order of Jesus Christ.  And all this conversion, all this transformation was accomplished on the word of a few simple fisherfolk – simple fisherfolk equipped by the Holy Spirit. The first generation of Christian disciples departed in pairs and carried their first hand accounts into villages and towns, synagogues and market places.  They told their experience to relatives and friends of friends.  People so moved by the lessons and promises of Jesus began showing up at a neighbor’s house to hear more.  Ten converts turned to twenty believers, twenty became sixty, and sixty grew to two hundred.  The houses got crowded.  The rooms got hot.  The plates for refreshments ran out.

The second generation of Christian disciples faced different dilemmas.  The word was spreading; belief was taking hold, so structure was warranted.  How should these communities of commitment and belief be organized?  How should their questions and divisions be addressed?  When the “churches” outnumber the available disciples, who provides leadership?  Who can say with authority, this is what Jesus would do?  In the early years, the original disciples provided structure with personal visits and exacting letters.  Later, their successors guided churches the same way.  They made continuous circuits through the congregations and, as they traveled, they received and sent letters of censure and encouragement.  They wrote to congregations in Alexandria and Minorca, North Africa and Patmos.  They gave advice on worship practices, preparation for baptism, stewardship, fellowship, evangelism and prayer life.  In their letters, the first church planters explained the essence of Christ’s message, and how believers were to live their lives.  The letters were chock full of clear direction and explicit details.

Jesus said love God with all your heart, soul and might.  Love your neighbor as well as you love and care for yourself.  In letters to the churches under their care, the disciples told the people what that love of God and neighbor looked like.  They spelled out daily routines and specific action.  They presented answers to troubling real life questions.  Because the directions are expressed in a language archaic to our ears, we sometimes ignore their profound value and excellent sense.  We sometimes dismiss the connection between the disciples’ instructions and the heart of Christ’s own words.

An example of our very human oversight is raised in this morning’s epistle reading.  Apparently, the folk at Ephesus are having trouble nailing down the “love your neighbor” concept.  They receive a letter explaining how one lives in Christian charity, at peace with one another.  In the passage we heard, the disciple writes about dealing with anger, resentment and theft.  He then turns to “evil talk.”  He writes to the people who say they want to be good followers of Jesus Christ, “Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.”  Another translation reads, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”  Jesus said love your neighbor as yourself.  His disciple gives us a clear instruction to make that commandment so.  If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.  This is not some Aunt’s sweet sentiment for getting along in southern society.  This is a directive for building up and bringing in the kingdom of God.

Complaining, carping, noticing then remarking, telling what we know or what we suspect is a very human past time.  Expressing our irritation or disappointment in others seems relatively harmless and so often feels so very gratifying.  Telling others how we’ve been slighted by Mr. X or Ms. Z eases the sting of their insult.  Being in the know, on the inside makes us feel powerful and special.  What good is having access to useful or titillating information if we can’t pass it on?  How will people recognize our exalted status if we don’t tell what we know?  How will others understand and sympathize with our plight if we don’t expose the wrong-doing of our “enemy?”  How will we be “comforted” if we carry our burden in silence?  What’s the real harm in saying what’s on our minds, just putting our opinion out there?  Words are just words; they can’t break bones after all.  And isn’t it my right as a free citizen to express what’s on my heart and in my mind? 

The author of the letter to the Ephesians answers these questions.  He says the issue isn’t about personal freedom or about the physical consequences of negative comments.  He says the concern is about bringing in the kingdom of God.  That is always the question.  That is always the governing issue, and the overriding objective.  Do we want our reality to reflect our human idea or God’s grand vision?  If we want heaven on earth today, in our life time, then we must commit to some changes.  And one of those changes requires a muzzle!  Every thought that pops in our heads does not need to be voiced.  Every nagging notion does not have to be shared.  Before we say the irritated, frustrated, absolutely justified negative thing, we can pause.  We can just stop and consider.  Does my making this statement build up the body?  Does this opinion spoken out in the world bring God closer or push his goodness further away. 

Would Jesus say this?  In the tone I’m about to use?  If not, then shhh!  Don’t say the ugly, mean thing.  Don’t spew the rant.  Don’t let the sharp barb trickle out.  Don’t spread the gossip.  Put a hand over the mouth.  Bite the tongue.  Breathe deep.  Count to 10, 20, 100.  Be still and quiet and let the urge to express pass.  If what we really want to say does not build up the body of Christ, let it go unsaid.  If what we really want to say matters to the health and wellbeing of the body – wait – consider, figure out a way to say it in a life-giving way.  Hard things sometimes need to be voiced, but there are righteous, merciful ways to make the required points.  Self-restraint and a heart set on God will provide the best words.

 Living the way of Christ is not always easy.  Creating a life centered on prayer can seem daunting.  Committing to the care of strangers may be overwhelming.  Living on less, giving more to support God’s outreach can also be scary.  In the face of these other directives, keeping a watch on our tongues is a comfortable place to start.  A reasonable challenge to a body of believers, to old and young, those new to the faith, those seasoned apostles, is to speak the life-giving Godly word and to silence the thought that diminishes the dream of God.

Dear ones, the challenge to the Ephesians, the challenge to the body of St. Mark’s is clear and completely doable.  “Let no unwholesome talk come out of our mouths, but only what is helpful for building up the body of Christ.”  We can make this directive our watch word.  We can hold ourselves to its standard.  We can gently remind one another and hold each other accountable.  Young to old, old to young, congregation to priest, vice-versa, we can ask, “Now, how did that statement elevate the body?”  “Just how was God expressed in that thought?”  And then we can answer, “Well, let me rephrase” or “I guess I’ll retract.”   Given time, our words will inspire and our speech will soothe.  Then, in that time, the kingdom of God will be brought closer.  On that day, there will be much rejoicing.  That happy, happy occasion all begins with a closed mouth.

Ssshhh!  There is much power and infinite good in the things left unsaid.

Amen.