In the pastoral aspects of being a priest, I have the sacred privilege and duty of being with people who are struggling. And while suffering is suffering and there is no way to compare different types of struggles, dementia is certainly one of the cruelest and most devasting of struggles. When someone starts to lose their sense of who they are, it is often experienced as a death before death comes. Memories fade, personalities change, and connections are eroded. It can be a scary, disconcerting, and frustrating experience on all sides. I’m thankful for the researchers who are trying to better understand the human mind in hopes of providing a cure, and I pray for their success. Indeed, there is something tragic about forgetting who we are.
As
we continue reading and reflecting on First John in Eastertide, this question
of holding onto our identity is of central importance at the start of chapter
three. Beloved, our world has a way of making us forget who we are. Like the
serpent in the Garden, society has a way of gaslighting us, making us question what
God has told us to be true – that we are loved. Celebrity culture sets before
us idols that we can never live up to; even the celebrities themselves will
tell you that they don’t live up to their public persona. Advertisers convince
us that our lives are incomplete without a new or updated product. Capitalism
trains us to see ourselves, not to mention nature and others, as financial
commodities that are only as valuable as our ability to generate income.
Because of our broken and sinful nature, we so often view one another as
competitors instead of companions. And because of technology, life moves at a
dizzying pace and we are left with precious little time to be because we are so
busy doing.
The result of all of this
is that we end up confused about who we are. The clear evidence for this is the
discord, depression, distractedness, and division that are hallmarks of our
lives. We forget who we are and end up acting in confused and confusing ways. This
passage from First John is a much-needed reminder of who we are.
As I was thinking about
this question of identity this past week, I thought about the 1991 movie Hook.
If you missed it, it’s a great rendition of the Peter Pan story starring Robin
Williams, Dustin Hoffman, and Julia Roberts. Directed by Stephen Spielberg with
music by John Williams, it really is worth watching or rewatching. In this version
of the story, Peter Pan grows up and works as an overstressed and overscheduled
corporate attorney in San Francisco – Petter Banning. He has no memory of
Neverland or his adventures there. He had forgotten who he was. When he and his
family return to London for a dinner given in honor of Wendy Darling, Peter’s
archnemesis, Captain Hook, uses this opportunity to kidnap Peter’s children to
Neverland. The rest of the movie is about Peter rediscovering who he is – relearning
how to fly, how to use his imagination, how to have fun, how to focus on being
instead of doing. What modern America has made him forget, Neverland opened him
to wonder, joy, and possibility.
I don’t know that Hook
was written as a theological commentary on modernity and identity, but it absolutely
is. The idolatrous priorities of the world end up distracting us from God, closing
us off to enchantment, and making us forget who we are; and it is only in reclaiming
our true identity that will we ever have joy, meaning, purpose, or the fullness
of love. Separated by about 2,000 years, First John is making the same point as
Hook.
The section we heard
today opens with “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be
called children of God; and that is what we are.” Friends, we are God’s
beloved. If that’s all you hear today, that will be enough. In fact, if that’s
all you ever hear me say, I will consider my preaching to be successful. Again,
the world has a way of making us forget this; as we heard, “The reason the world
does not know us is that it did not know God.” The world has a way of making us
feel inadequate, incomplete, and unlovable as we are called by all sorts of
names other than “beloved.” As the author of First John is writing to a
community trying to have fellowship with God, the foundation is God’s love for
us all.
To be clear, every human being,
regardless of their religious affiliation or disaffiliation, every animal,
every tree and flower, every rock and stream is the beloved of God. For God is
love and God created through, for, and with love. So if we say that Buddhists,
Muslims, and atheists are also God’s children, then we might wonder “What is Christianity
all about?” The analogy that the Church has used for centuries is that of
marriage. Two people can love one another without being married. What happens
in marriage is that this love is publicly declared and claimed. When we say
that we are God’s children, we are not making an exclusivist claim about others
and implying that they are not also God’s children. No, not at all. Instead, we
are emphasizing the intimacy of our relationship with God. We are saying that
we recognize ourselves as the recipients of a love that passes all deserving
and understanding.
And just like a marriage,
by claiming this identity, we grow deeper into our belovedness as God’s
children. One way to view marriage would be through a lens of restrictions, as
there are a lot of things that a bachelor can do that a married person cannot,
or at least, should not, do. But these are not restrictions or burdens, rather
the commitment, priorities, obligations, and choices made in marriage open us
to a deeper sort of love that would not be possible without the marriage. This
is what religion and faith are about.
A lot of people say “I’m spiritual,
but not really religious.” Goodness knows, given the Church’s track record, I
completely understand why people prefer to stay away from us. Just like
marriage is hard work, so is being a part of the fellowship of the Church. Likewise,
just as the love of a marriage is deepened by the commitment, by the learning
how to forgive each other, in persisting in love despite our annoyances and
various incompatibilities, the same thing happens with our sense of being God’s
beloved child. The Church helps us to enter more deeply into this relationship
of grace and love. And this is what it means for us to embrace and hold fast to
our identity as God’s children – it is a way of receiving our belovedness,
rooting ourselves in God’s grace, and growing in faith.
This identity as God’s
children means a few things. First, it means that you belong. This is what
fellowship is all about, it means that everyone has a place at the Table of God’s
love. It does not matter what mistakes you have made, what things would do
differently if you could have a do-over, what doubts you have, what quirks are
a part of your personality – you belong. No one is out of place when it comes
to the embrace of God.
The other side of this
coin is that, if we belong to God, it also means that we belong to each other.
And as we’ve all figured out in life, family can be difficult. What makes the Church
both a challenge and a blessing is people. We are what makes the Church both
vibrant and disappointing, faithful and frustrating. We are all flawed and broken
people, and we bring those wounds and sins with us. Like tectonic plates that
rub up against one another, sometimes the friction causes damage and harm. Some
people have been victims of these sorts of Church-quakes, and, understandably,
choose to stay away. But we know that in God’s love, there is plenteous healing
and forgiveness.
In this season of Easter,
we’re focusing on evangelism – on inviting others to come and see God’s love through
our fellowship. The vast majority of people who are not a part of a church
community used to be a part of one. But because of something that was said or
done, or wasn’t said or done, they’ve stopped attending. I really do feel compassion
for those who have been harmed and run-off by the Church because they have
known the joys and power of Christian fellowship and now live without it. There
is something special and sacred about receiving Communion, singing hymns,
saying prayers, gathering in beautiful buildings, and engaging in
cross-generational relationships. You might say to your friend or colleague
something like – “I know Church can be hard because people can be hard. And I
won’t promise you that St. Luke’s is perfect, but it’s a place where we trust
in the power of love to work through our problems. It’s a place where I think
you can come and know God’s love for you. How about you join me next Sunday and
then we’ll grab lunch.” We belong to one another in the Body of Christ, and
therefore have a duty to one another to always seek reconciliation and
belonging.
The other thing that
being God’s children means is that we have growing to do. Just as children grow
in maturity and stature, that is the expectation of us as well. First John says,
“What we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is
revealed, we will be like him.” While it is absolutely true that we belong to
God and this is a gift of grace, not of deserving, the gift of belonging is
something to be used. Justice, compassion, mercy, generosity, and witnessing are
things that our belonging enables us to do. This is why, in God’s infinite wisdom,
that faith is a team activity. Almost universally, the verbs of faith are in
the plural.
But, because for a long
time, y’all has not been considered proper grammar, our translations of Scripture
have said “you,” which sounds like the second-person singular, when, in fact,
the underlying Hebrew and Greek are, very clearly, second-person plurals – you all.
Christianity cannot be done alone. This is made obvious by the entrance rite
into faith – Baptism. No one baptizes themselves, you must be baptized by
someone else. Faith is always a communal effort.
And the things that we
have been given to do are not only easier to do in fellowship, they are impossible
to do without it. We cannot pursue justice without being in dialogue. We cannot
act with compassion without seeing the needs of others. We cannot be merciful
without seeking reconciliation with others. We cannot be generous without others
to receive, meaning that when allow ourselves to receive gifts we are allowing
others to practice their faith. We cannot witness without someone to hear or
see the message of love. We need one another to grow in faith.
This is why evangelism,
why expanding our fellowship, is so important. Yes, if St. Luke’s is going to
continue to thrive for generations to come, we do need members to carry this
legacy into the future, to care for these lovely buildings and grounds, to set
the Table for Communion, to proclaim the words of comfort: that God is love and
we are God’s beloved children. The person who will help to bring some of our
children more deeply into the faith might not yet be a member. The choir member
whose voice will give us goosebumps might not have yet entered these doors. The
person who will bring you a meal after you’ve had surgery might not have yet
come and seen the difference Christ makes at St. Luke’s. While our fellowship
is special, there is always room to grow in beloved community.
Evangelism is also
important because through it, we remind people, and ourselves, who they are. We
help with curing the amnesia that society gives us as it obscures our identity
as God’s children. The community, grace, love, and ministry that they will encounter
here might well save their life and give them direction. I am sure there are a
lot of you who would say that St. Luke’s has been one of the greatest blessings
of your life – I know that, without question, it is for me. When I received the
call to serve as the priest here back in 2014, I prayed to God saying “Thank
you for bringing me to St. Luke’s” and to this day, I say those words of gratitude
each and every morning. This fellowship is one of the greatest blessings I will
ever receive. The gift of God’s love that comes through our fellowship is a
tremendous gift to share with others. Invite someone this week to come and see.
Beloved, what joy it is
that we are called children of God, who always and for ever belong to the love
of God that is making all things well.
