That They May All Be One
It is difficult to find words for a day like today. I feel such a mix of emotions that I hardly know where to begin. Being your pastor has been such a wild and wonderful adventure that it feels nearly impossible to say all that I want to say to you, especially today.
I have fallen in love with this beautiful place, with my daily beach walks with the dogs, with the ebb and flow of life on Cape Cod. I have fallen in love with all of the rituals of this sweet place; with the way the acolytes walk forward in their everyday outfits, carrying the symbol of God’s light as we begin our worship; I have fallen in love with the way we invest our whole hearts in rummage sales and bean suppers and friendship dinners and Craft Fest. I have fallen in love with the quirkiness of the characters that make you who you are and with the soft center waiting to be loved inside of nearly every cranky Yankee. I have fallen in love with your willingness to be open to the Spirit, with your willingness to try something new and to do something else when that didn’t work. Even when I wondered whether this was indeed where I was called to be, God made it clear with one tiny invitation after another.
And as I think about saying goodbye to you over the next few months, I want to share with you what I have seen and loved and come to know about who you are. On the outside, this Cotuit Federated Church looks like almost every other sweet little church on Cape Cod and a lot like churches around the country. It is not on the way to anywhere, a fact that I have learned brings great satisfaction to many of you, and it is oddly perched on a hill overlooking a bar and an insurance agency with a name that to outsiders seems like a dirty joke. But inside this community of faith is something that can only be described in the Gospel. Because it is only upon journeying with you, it is only upon crying with you, growing in faith with you and praying with you that I have seen who you really are.
When I first arrived, I knew that you weren’t exactly who you were pretending to be. Most of us tend to behave differently when someone new lands on the scene. But there is so much more to you than I ever imagined and it has been a true blessing watching the layers of pride and fear and painful history unravel right before my eyes, so I could see who you are at your core.
On the outside, one could easily assume that this church, like 75% of churches in this country, is in decline. On the outside, people might drive by and think that this church is like a lot of churches who want the life of faith to be about being good people, instead of about coming alive in God. On the outside, you might look like a church that is busy worshiping buildings and by-laws, and a God who watches from the clouds. But inside this community of faith is something that can only be described in the Gospel. Inside the heart of this community is something about which Jesus speaks, something that he tries again and again to communicate to those who said they wanted to follow him. He says, “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one.” That they may all be one.
This is Jesus’ plan for life, a hope and a longing for human beings to be woven together, so deeply, that not even God could pry us apart. That they may all be one is a sermon that could so easily be dismissed as a lost cause. Christian Churches are good at being in one building, one neighborhood, one class, one race, one age group. Churches are good at choosing one style of music, believing that faith is a one-size fits all set of doctrines or selecting one type of group they desperately need to attract in order to get out of a deficit. But friends I am quite sure that this is not what Jesus meant when he said, “That they may all be one.”
Ever since I started to fall in love with God, ever since I learned that Jesus hung out with everyone, including children and women; prostitutes and lepers; royalty and academics and those who were lost and lonely, addicted and orphaned, ever since I fell in love with our God who we know through Jesus Christ, I have experienced the Gospel as transcendent. The Gospel of Jesus Christ transcends the tiny “ones” that we replace with Jesus’ great big hope. The Gospel transcends race and class and gender and sexual orientation and age and education and every category that we human beings create to decide who is in and who is out. But I have learned that even if the Gospel transcends all of this, it doesn’t mean that churches do. Churches can often be the place where faith goes to die. Churches can be the place where people lose heart. Churches can be the place where wounds are not healed and hurts are made deeper.
But Jesus never talked about churches, Jesus talked about us, he preached to flawed and sinful human beings, just like us, who wanted to be whole. When saying goodbye to the disciples he said, “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one.”
That they may all be one means that we will promise to learn to love each other, especially when we cannot relate. That they may all be one means that we will promise to grow in patience when the rich man among us cannot understand the needs of the jobless, or when the stoic among us doesn’t like the Faith We Sing Hymnal, or when the autistic child among us cannot keep quiet because the Spirit of welcome has been extended; that they may all be one means that the conservatives among us will listen to the liberals and that the liberals among us will listen to the conservatives; that they may all be one means that we will keep on extending the welcome that Jesus did, not because we will ever understand each other fully, but because we know that in the act of extending a welcome wider than we can even imagine, we will come to understand God fully.
On the outside, this Cotuit Federated Church looks like almost every other sweet little church on Cape Cod and a lot like churches around the country. But inside this community of faith is something that can only be described in the Gospel. It is a living manifestation of Jesus’ hope that we might all be one. And if God had never brought me here, I might be left wondering if it is ever really possible for a church to live this out, not just by writing a statement of welcome on paper, but by living it out in the day in and day out walk of Christian discipleship. Aiming to be One in Jesus Christ, is annoying and painful, frustrating and challenging, because most of the time, the only thing we have in common is our shared commitment to doing what Jesus asks. After journeying with you, crying with you, growing in faith with you and praying with you, I have seen who you really are.
And what I want you to know, what I want you to hold, what I want you to hear today is that in a world so divided, this intentional work to be one in Christ is nothing less than life-saving and here is why: when you can learn to live and love together, holding in tension the diverse mix of people that you are, you are not only doing what Jesus asks, but you are telling the world about our God. You are living the Gospel right here. When you sit next to someone who pisses you off or sing a song that makes you uneasy or try to extend a welcome to someone who drives you crazy, you are telling the world about our God. Just by staying committed to making room for each hungry heart, regardless of who they are or where they have been, you are telling the world about our God.
God has added to this place because you have longed to add hearts to God. You are a living, breathing, Spirit-loving, vital Body of Christ, a true artistic rendition of Jesus’ deep hope, “That they may all be one.” This is part of your signature, part of your life-saving work, part of the imprint you leave on every heart that finds his or her way through these doors and a permanent blessing you will leave on mine. May we all be one in Christ Jesus. Amen.