Citizens with the Saints (Ephesians 2)

One of the most momentous and contentious issues in the early church was how non-Jewish followers of Jesus should be incorporated into the church. The writer of Ephesians—either Paul or one of Paul's followers—is addressing this division between Jews & Gentiles, and one of the biggest themes of Paul is the unity of the church, the importance that there be no division in the church, that Christ's life and message made us one.

And so, we "are no longer strangers and aliens, but citizens with the saints and members of the household of God." This line captures one of the most radical things we do as church: the church proclaims that our status or rank does not come not from being a citizen of Rome, a citizen of the United States, a "citizen" of a corporation or profession. It is easy to forget when our entertainment is nationally based, when our news is nationally focused, when we vote in national elections and pay taxes to support the government of this nation—it is easy to forget that our primary affiliation as followers of Jesus is with the universal church, the other followers of Jesus building an alternative society in which the old divisions are healed.

I love our denomination, the UCC, but we are very much an American denomination, organized in the United States even though we have many international partners—and so it makes it hard to see our Christian unity across national boundaries.; international denominations, like the Catholic church, maybe make it a bit easier to see. The church at its best can give the world a sign that unity is possible.

As our church reflects on Race, Immigration and Justice these few weeks, these thoughts have been hanging heavy in my heart: How do we live as church, citizens with the saints, when our lives are organized by division, when being born on one side or another of a border means a drastically different life? Our faith teaches that the goods of the earth are gifts from God and belong to all people, but have you seen that in practice? And most of all, what if what God asks of me is too hard or too much?

Recognizing a problem is easier than solving it. But this passage from Ephesians can give us hope. One way to begin to heal is to recall the ways in which we have been strangers: Paul reminds the Ephesians that they were once strangers to God's revelation, Exodus that reminds Israel that they were strangers in the land of Egypt. It is easier to love, to feel compassion, when you recognize that you once needed love and compassion.

Another way to heal is to remember the immensity of gifts we've received: Christ's teaching and sacrifice, our ancestor's work for justice. We would be far off, or even farther, from God were it not for these gifts. And if we've received such gifts, then we sure should pass along more to others.

The good news is that we are being built into a holy temple in the Lord. We're not there yet by any means, but the building is in process. It will take work to make these words true, for too many of us are strangers and aliens from each other in practice: but the truth and promise is that, in Christ, we will be joined together and rise as one from the ruins.

The Conversion of Paul/ Acts 9

This week in the Christian calendar was the feast of the Conversion of Paul/Saul. The story of Paul should spark a bit of fear in all of us, but also hope. It shows how easy it is for us to have things backwards, despite our best intentions—but it also the possibility of dramatic change, the possibility of redemption.

Saul was, to all outward appearances, a good religious man, concerned with upholding tradition and stopping the blasphemous Christian sect from leading people astray. He persecuted the early Christian movement, acting— he thought – on the side of justice…. until he had the original "Road to Damascus" experience: God speaks to Paul, asks: "Paul, why are you persecuting me?"

Paul was knocked off his horse, was struck blind, and then he waited for three days with his thoughts.

Paul's conversion required the Christian movement to stretch as well. Paul was not the only one who was shocked, because God tells Ananias, a follower of Jesus, to go visit Paul: it's almost as if George Bush were told to go unarmed and visit a repentant Osama Bin Laden. But Ananias does go, and Paul becomes a great leader of the church.

Reading this story of Paul on the Way to Damascus reminds me that we need all need humility: no matter how sure we are that we are right, we might be wrong, and so humility demands that we speak and listen to each other, that we grow.

Humility is relatively uncontroversial. But the story also reminds me that we need to question, to actively question our assumptions. Paul persecuted the church because the bundle of assumptions he had about goodness and right living seemed incompatible with this movement. And so, as pray together, I wonder what assumptions I might be holding that are hurting others, that someday God might call me to drop.