Risen Lord, keep us in the fellowship of your love.
Amen.
The Prayer Book teaches us that “All Sundays of the year are feasts of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Through the centuries, many have said that “every Sunday is a little Easter,” drawing on St. Augustine who called Sundays a “sacrament of Easter.” And while, theologically and liturgically speaking, that might true – we can also admit that the difference between last Sunday and today is obvious. There are decidedly less seersucker, fewer people, and not as much energy in the air. Yes, if every Sunday is a little Easter, the “little” stands out on the Second Sunday of Easter.
It’s
a question that people have struggled with for a long time – what do we do with
Easter? You might know that earlier this year, I turned 40. I had a lovely birthday
weekend filled with surprises with family and friends. Truly, it was the most
memorable and special birthday I’ve ever had. But once the dinners were over, there
was a Monday. A Monday that symbolizes back to the grind, life as normal, all
of the previous commitments and routines. Sure, I could talk about entering a new
decade or being over the hill, though that’s really hard to figure out, because
if 50 is the new 40 and 60 is the new 50, did I really turn 60? I’m not sure. But
the point is, when Monday rolled around, it was time to get right back at it.
Well,
we face the same thing when it comes to Easter. There was a Monday this past
week and, I checked the obituaries to make sure, people still died. In fact, on
Easter afternoon I got called to the VA to give Last Rites to someone who died later
that day. I made a hospital visit on Tuesday, so I know that people still get
sick. And I’ve seen the news – Russia has not retreated from Ukraine, bombs
continue to drop in Gaza, the headlines are dominated by the dysfunctional
election season that we’re in. Our kids returned to school, so I can tell you
that public education did not get fixed over the Easter weekend. What
difference does Easter make?
This
is not just some question that I thought about this past week, it’s a question
that the Church and her members have been wrestling with for two thousand
years. What does it mean to live a Resurrected reality in a yet-to-be fully-resurrected
world? How can we have Easter be more than a holiday – how do we have the Easter
joy last at least as long as the eggs that were dyed?
To
be honest, I don’t have some Jedi mind trick to offer. I won’t lie and tell you
that it’s as easy as following three steps. In fact, if there were an answer it
would become an idol. We would end up blindly following the process more than
the Resurrected Lord. We would end up policing those who were not following the
post-Easter rules. We would banish people who did things differently and say
that others don’t understand what Easter really means. We would start to become
complacent in thinking we’ve figured it all out instead of continually growing
and moving as we follow Jesus along the Way of love. And if any of that sounds
like a description of the modern Church, well, let the indictment stand.
Instead
of proposing a solution for how we make every day like Easter, over the
remaining Sundays in Eastertide, I want to sit with the early Church that also
asked these sorts of questions. Asking the questions is more important than
finding the answers. To guide us, we’ll turn to the first epistle of John.
First
John is one of three letters attributed to John. Generally speaking, scholars
do not think that the disciple John wrote these letters, but rather those in
the “school of John,” that is, people who learned about Jesus from John. The
name “John” was just as common back then as it is today – so as a reminder,
this is not John the Baptist; but the one of the twelve disciples who was named
John. Based on forensic linguistics, these three letters are related to the Gospel
according to John but are written by a different author. We can tell this based
on slight differences in grammar and word choices. Generally assumed to be
written between 95 and 110, so at least a generation or two after Easter, referring
to First John as a letter might not be quite right. There is no indication that
it was sent anywhere, but might have been something more like a treatise or
lecture given to a community instead of something that was sent to a distant
community. If you had to summarize the point of First John in one sentence, it
would be this: We have fellowship with God through one another.
For
these six Sundays until Pentecost, First John will be the focus of the sermons.
It’s a relatively short book – just five chapters. You can easily read it in
one sitting. Even reading it slowly shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes. Take
some time this afternoon or later this week and read through First John as a
way of receiving the whole of it instead of just a chunk each Sunday.
In
the opening paragraph, the author notes “We are writing these things so that
our joy may be complete.” That is my hope in preaching through this letter and
that is my prayer for our parish in Easter – that we be filled with the joys of
Easter. If that’s what you get out of our worship in Easter, I’d be ecstatic.
One theologian has said, “Joy is a background emotion, a persistent and
resilient way of viewing the world that anticipates and is alert to God’s
goodness.” That’s a pretty good way of describing what it would look like to
live as an Easter people – people who anticipate and are alert to God’s
goodness. Keep that as the lens through which you read First John, because that
is the stated purpose for it being written down and included in our Scriptures.
As you read it, ask the question “How does this point me in the direction of
joy or remind me of the joy that has been given to us at Easter?”
According
to First John, the way that this joy is delivered is through fellowship, or
what we call “beloved community.” We heard, “We declare to you what we have
seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our
fellowship is with the Father and his Son Jesus Christ.” So often when we think
about Easter, or faith in general, we think in terms of faith being about giving
us rules to follow, or proclamations about the forgiveness of sins, or being
able to be with God in heaven after we die. Of course, I’m not negating any of
those things. But, at its core, those are not the purpose or foundation of faith.
Instead, it is as our parish prayer puts it, God’s transformative love is the
foundation of our faith. Or, in the language of First John, faith is about
fellowship.
Later
in this letter, we’ll hear more about this, but the way to have fellowship with
God is through one another. God is not known in the same way people are. We
cannot interact with God in the same way might toss a ball into the air and
interact with it as we throw and catch it. This does not mean that God is
inaccessible to us through our bodies and senses. On the contrary, First John opens
by noting what has been heard with our ears, seen with our eyes, and touched
with our hands. Our experiences of God are mediated through the things God has created
– the lovely notes of a symphony, the radiance of a sunset, a beloved pet
sitting on your lap, the bliss of a lover’s embrace, contagious laughter among
friends, a piece of bread which Jesus says is his body. Being in a relationship
with nature, beauty, and others is how we have fellowship with God.
What
this means is that the more fellowship we have the closer we will be to God; the
more tangible Easter will be. But there’s no trick to fellowship. Fellowship doesn’t
happen when we view others simply as a means to an end. To have fellowship with
a painting or a person is to truly and fully be in their presence. It’s not
trying to get something out of the experience, it’s simply being with them and
participating in that joy of being together.
One
of my priestly mentors was fond of saying “See Communion in everything.” It’s a
way of experiencing the world sacramentally, recognizing that every common bush
is afire with God, noticing signs of Easter all around us, tarrying in moments
of joy when we have them. Everything is connected if we’ll stop to notice. So
often our culture values self-sufficiency, privacy, and independence – but it’s
awfully hard to connect when those are our motivating priorities. The invitation
of Easter and the exhortation of First John is to see and seek Communion in
everything, to pursue connection, to invest in fellowship. As we heard in Psalm
133, “Oh, how good and pleasant it is when we live together in unity!”
So
this is one way to focus on Easter – to dwell in fellowship, to consider what
we are doing to foster it and what we are doing that makes connection more
challenging than it ought to be. There’s one other aspect of fellowship that I
want to mention that is vital for us, and that is evangelism. I realize the
word “evangelism” carries all sorts of baggage and associations. When I use that
word, I essentially mean what First John is commending to us – declaring what
we have seen, heard, and felt concerning the word of life, the light of the world,
Jesus Christ, and inviting others into that fellowship.
While
our fellowship at St. Luke’s is wonderful – truly, this is a lovely and special
community – we must extend this fellowship to our community. It has been said
that the Church exists for the benefit of those who are not yet members. Sure,
the Church does provide for the needs of members, but that is not our primary
focus. Our society is desperate for an alternative to what we have before us.
Clearly, we will not find
political solutions to the problems of society. Consumerism might bring us
happiness when Amazon drops off a package at our front doors, but it does not bring
us joy. I recently listened to a podcast that made it clear what we already
know – that technology and social media are absolutely eroding fellowship, especially
among younger generations. And, to be honest, people are leaving churches in
large numbers because what they are encountering is not the light of Jesus, but
rather tribalism and judgment. The spiritual and devotional products industry had
an estimated worth of $3.6 billion last year. It’s expected to be nearly triple
that by 2031. Not finding what they need in the Church, people are turning to
oils, crystals, and self-help books. The fact that the industry is growing so
rapidly is not a sign that people are finding what they need – but rather they
are frantically searching for connection with the holy.
I
am not claiming that St. Luke’s is perfect or that, as the priest I can scratch
everyone’s spiritual itch, but there is one thing that we can provide that
people need and are searching for – fellowship with God through one another.
What I so cherish and value about this Parish is our commitment to one another.
Goodness knows, we don’t all agree on things. We vote differently, we have
different favorite foods, we listen to different styles of music, we find
different kinds of jokes funny, we have different ideas about ministry. Some of
us are white and some are black. Some are gay and some are straight. Some are
liberal and some are conservative. Some are elders and some are younger. But we
are united in a fellowship that is bigger than those differences.
We are honest about
brokenness and our reliance on God’s grace to reconcile us. We enjoy one another’s
company. We join our voices across differences to sing and pray together. We
break bread, both at the Altar and the dinner table on Wednesdays. We come
together to serve our community. We gather to worship the God who gives us life.
And
our fellowship would be richer if some of your friends, neighbors, and colleagues
were here with us. Yes, to remain a vibrant congregation, we do need to be
intentional about growing, but we also exist for the benefit of those who are
not yet members. This fellowship is where they will hopefully find the joy that
connets them to God’s love. As we are thinking about the importance of
fellowship in Easter, I am issuing an invitation, encouragement, and appeal to
each of us to be intentional about expanding our fellowship. What a glorious
thing it would be to get to the Day of Pentecost and have new faces in these pews,
to have deeper fellowship among those who are already here, and to have our joy
made complete in the fellowship of God’s love.