When it comes right down to it, I can think of many things I would rather be doing than going to church on a Sunday morning. I can even think of a few things to be doing that would be spiritually enlightening and would not require church. More and more, well meaning and spiritually sensitive people are choosing to avoid going to church or belonging to a church. Why bother? Isn't it true that one can practice religion by oneself? After all, God hears prayers wherever we pray them and in whatever way we pray them. No Book of Common Prayer is really necessary is it?
The history of Christianity is such that the gathering began in people's homes. The pattern of Judaism was for ritual to take place around the routine customs and habits of living. There were prayers for wine and bread, prayers for lighting candles, prayers for remembering those loved ones who had died. There was no special need to go to a building away from the home to pray. Christianity emulated this pattern and after Christ's death and resurrection house churches became the place where the community gathered. Upper rooms, large porticoes, and intimate living rooms became the places where people gathered to break bread and to share in fellowship and prayer. Rituals were done with small groups of people and largely out of the public eye - especially because to confess one's Christianity could lead to trial and death at the hands of the Roman authorities.
So, why are we here today? Why have parishes? Why even go to church?
I believe that in a culture that increasingly values individuality and one in which technology has increased our ability to isolate from others; community is an absolutely essential experience to seek. We need community. We need each other. God created humankind for community because it is in community that we most fully become ourselves. The South African theology of Ubuntu describes this well. Ubuntu means "I Am because You Are." I exist and I am a person because I exist in community with other persons who help shape my humanity, my identity, and my personhood. Coming to church offers us a possibility of gathering in a community of people who we would not necessarily choose, yet who are also striving to follow the way to a deeper relationship with God in Christ just as we are. We become a part of a pilgrimmage - faithful people on a journey.
Church is important as a place of experiencing community because it is a place where we are also sent from to go back into our neighborhoods and lives and create more community. The church does not exist for itself. It exists for the sake of those who have not yet come to know or to love God. As a community of faithful pilgrims, the members of the parish are sent into the world to bring the good news to others and to invite them to join in the community of faith. It is a community whose mission is to bring community to others.
The church also exists as a place to make God's love known. Love is something that by its very nature is experienced in the interaction between persons. The church community is the place where we live out the Great Commandment - Love the Lord your God with all your being, Love your neighbor, Love yourself. This excerpt from a dear friend of mine from the church in which I grew up just came across my desk as I am writing this post and it says more than I ever could. May it deepen your commitment to community.
Many of you know that I am dying. You might ask, “Aren’t we all?” Of course, but I know what will almost certainly cause my death and approximately when it will happen. The cause is a terminal disease called Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis, a condition that develops scar tissue in the lungs, gradually shutting off the supply of oxygen to the heart. Research is going on but no cure has yet been found. About 40,000 people die of IPF each year—about the same number of those who die of breast cancer. It caused the deaths of Marlon Brando and Robert Goulet. The time from diagnosis to death varies, but the norm is 3-5 years; I was diagnosed in December 2006. Since then I have had the benefit of supplementary oxygen, the only relief available. In the last few weeks I have welcomed some symptomatic relief from a new medicine. However, it is stressful for me to breathe, even in taking a few steps. Simple tasks are difficult and will eventually become all but impossible. So much for dying. But there is another dimension of life after death—the death of others, a concern right now for Liz my wife, our children, and grandchildren. Many of you know that Liz and I lost our spouses in their 30s, a son at 40, and a year later our daughter, 37, with our two grandchildren, 6 and 10. I believe that qualifies us to affirm the reality of that kind of life after death. In our losses we have been sustained by God through loving family memories, by our larger family and our friends, and by our church family at Redeemer. You may not even be aware of how valuable you are when you tell someone that you share their sorrow, send a note of sympathy or make a phone call to say, “I am praying for you.” You are a giver of life to those who are experiencing loss. And what about life after my death? Our Christian conviction is that I will be in God’s presence because by faith I have been joined to God’s life in Christ. I would like to think it will be a reunion with our family members who got there first, but most surely I know that I will be privileged to worship God in ways I cannot even begin to imagine. There is much unknown about that part of our existence, and I am content with waiting to find out. Of course I would like to stay here, strong and healthy, but that is not what is going to happen. So take heart. As I look forward to life after my death, I covet for you the experience of the here-and-now new life in Christ. When people you love die, you will certainly be given whatever it takes to live through it. And when God calls you to live in His presence, you will experience the greatest gift of all—eternal life.