Conflict In Community

Conflict happens!

A sermon preached
at the Monroe Congregational Church
on May 14, 2017

Acts 15:1-21

Jesus never said it was easy to be a disciple. At least he left them tools to work with, friends and community to share the sacred work, rules intended to build up the community. It’s not that surprising that one of the very first conflicts in the early church was about who was in and who was out. The apostles, disciples and elders had to decide whether to stretch the body to include those who did not share their religious heritage, or draw a sharp distinction and create two levels of membership: Jewish Christian and Gentile Christian.

Scripture says this caused no small amount of tension, as more and more of those Gentile newcomers began showing up to worship and participate in community. The tension morphed to outright verbal conflict, with everyone picking their side of the debate. The conflict was important enough for Antioch to send a delegation to Jerusalem to try and settle it once and for all, which seems like a very expensive way to come to a decision. Eventually, as the story goes, the early church settled on grace, mercy and inclusion as shared values.

To be honest, I am conflicted about conflict. 

On the one hand, I know from experience that some measure of disagreement can be healthy. When conflict is managed from a place of love and respect it can become an impetus to change. As people come together, discuss their differences with warmth and empathy they might learn something important. Reconciliation has a sacred quality when it helps us to restore relationships. Friendships can heal. Marriages can be saved. Partnerships can be strengthened.

On the other hand, conflict also carries with it the possibility of becoming entrenched, abusive, long lasting and soul crushing. I was reminded this week of the infamous Hatfield and McCoy’s family feud. You may or may not know it began in 1870 as an argument about which of the two families owned a particular hog. What could have been managed as a tiff between neighbors became a decades-long family war, with many acts of violence committed on each side. PF learned this summer that to this day it is still being grumbled about by modern day descendants living on the Kentucky/Tennessee border!

Transforming conflict can sometimes feel darn near impossible. I want to believe that humanity can pull together to create a new, sacred world where there are no enemies. I want to believe that we can come to some agreement on the big issues that seem to fracture and divide us. But I’m not so sure anymore. The Cold War has been over for almost 30 years, but we’re still afraid of Russia. Democrats seem to be the sworn enemy of Republicans and vice versa.

Is there something in our humanity that requires us to have an enemy, a scapegoat to blame, or at the very least someone to disagree with? I wonder.

Jesus taught that humanity could expand beyond hatred and conflict into a state of justice, peace, and love.

But it’s not just Jesus who says this. Most world religions try to get us to step out of the hating our enemies and into loving them. This is not an easy task for those of us who haven’t yet reached the Buddha’s enlightened state, or felt something of Jesus’ personal connection to the Creator, or had flow through them Gandhi’s inward peace that led him to non-violent protest.

Their ideas about love were radical and stood in the face of political and economic powers that saw the need for enemies, scapegoats, and continued conflict. Seeing love as a power greater than the Empire eventually got Jesus, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King Jr., among so many others, killed.

This “love your enemies” thing that Jesus talks about so much is difficult. Remember the beatitudes? “Blessed are you who are reviled and persecuted for righteousness sake.” I think Jesus was speaking to any one of us trying to expand our love toward those with whom we are in conflict.

Love your enemies. That doesn’t mean work on changing them or even necessarily agreeing with them. Love means that you see their humanity at its core and understand that we all share something in common, even if it is not ideology. Love their humanity so that together you might collaborate on bringing God’s kin-dom to reality.

Collaboration can only happen after we see the simple similarities both sides can agree on. Of course, this means that both must be willing to even sit in the same room together. What do we share, what is it about you that is the same in me?

A conflict over resources means that we might need to stop talking about ownership and instead focus on our shared values. If we can’t agree on our values, then maybe we can agree on our identity as children of God or that we are both part of something greater than ourselves.

And if we can’t quite get there, we might go back to the basics and just take time to breathe. At that point, we are biological beings needing the same thing—air to fill our lungs and flow through our blood bringing fresh oxygen to the whole body.

Studies show that deep breathing lowers blood pressure, reduces the fight or flight instinct, and gets us into a more peaceful frame of mind. One of the pastoral counseling tricks I’ve used with struggling couples is to have them look into each other’s eyes for five minutes in complete silence. Their bodies will do something extraordinary, they will start to breathe in sync with each other. Afterwards, couples report feeling hopeful that whatever they were struggling with can be worked on as a team.
Next time you are locked in battle with your significant other, try it!

In fact, I’ll bet you can love someone – anyone - at that level.

In a deep and profound way, this can help us to see the other as human, not just as our adversary. Which can help us step out of the need to win the competition and be right.

At our core, we share biology, the need for oxygen and water and food and shelter.
At our core, we love our children (both our biological ones and the ones we encounter in this community).
At our core, then, maybe we can agree not to hurt each other, out of love for our children.
At our core, we might remember that you are beloved of God, just as I am, and God’s love is not a scarce limited commodity owned by one person or group of people; it is an abundant, impartial, ever-expanding, miraculous gift that is our responsibility to share.

It is all too human to want to call forth our enemies to try and challenge them, change them, win the argument or hurl out a good insult. But when we do, it’s a challenge to our faith.

We gather each week in this safe harbor, for an hour or so, to rest in the peace of God’s love. I don’t know about you, but I need a safe place where I can drop anchor, away from the fiery storms of Facebook and Twitter and the evening news, away from bickering partisanship, scapegoating and sworn enemies.

The good news is that all of that isn't the way that God wants things to be.  Once, we were fractured by resentment.  Once, we defined ourselves by fear.  Too often, we still do.  But we are God's people and we have been made to be so much more.  In Christ, we are already so much more. 

Our human tendency towards division is strong, but the roots of our God’s love is stronger.  Through the power of the gospel, we come together as one, as a people knit together by the experience of God's grace. Once we were strangers, but now we know that through God’s mercy, we can treat one another as sisters and brothers.

And because we have received mercy, it is incumbent on us to show mercy to others.  Like Peter, Paul, Barnabas and James insisted, we have been freed to love those people whom the world in all its divisiveness tells us every day we should hate.  That love doesn't make our differences and disagreements fall away, but it allows us to hear each other despite them. Simply put, we can refuse to be enemies.

Yes, that’s pretty counter-cultural. Even fantastical, and people tell me sometimes that it's maybe just a little naïve. And it certainly takes work.  Real work.

It would be so much easier to ignore the people with whom we have fundamental disagreements, to avoid them at all costs and cover our ears. It’s a challenge to honor the humanity of those who might not recognize the humanity in us. It's much harder to journey alongside people who have a different understanding of the world than we do.  But the God who called us out of depths and into the light empowers us to be a place and a people to take just this on.

Monroe Congregational Church, how are we, together, going to put LOVE to work? Amen.

Lessons from the Early Church Part Three: Love is a Verb

Acts 2:42-47 For the past two weeks we have been considering together what life might have been like for the early church. The Raising of Lazarus reminded us of the resurrection hope of the community then and the new life we embrace together today. Stephen’s bravery last week suggested to us that we too can be bold in our living and our giving as a faith community.

In today’s final installment, we will hear a little bit about how the early church got along with one another, how they held all things in common and supported one another. How the strength of their love for one another helped them spread the gospel to a world that desperately needed to hear the Good News.

But first, I just need to ask you: Seriously? Are we to believe these early church folks were really like this? Especially that bit about the selling what they owned to give to those in need. Do you feel even a little bit skeptical that life for them was really that way?

On the western shores of the Sea of Galilee, at the foot of Mount Arbel facing the Golan Heights lies the kibbutz at Ginosar. Founded in 1937 by the Young Socialist Party, a kibbutz is an experiment in communal living. Once an active farm, the site has become a tourist location featuring a museum which houses the 2,000 year old “Jesus Boat”.

Here on the kibbutz, young Israelis and Jews from all over the world gather to live and work together in community. Presently there are about 106,000 people living on the 256 different Kibbutzim. Residents share everything they own, and hold all property in common with one another. No one earns a paycheck, but they do earn food, clothing and housing.

During my visit at Ginosar I had the opportunity to meet some of the young people who live and work there. They spoke to me with great optimism about the community and its many benefits, and the depth of friendship among its members.

They told me things like:
…“I always know that my sisters and brothers here have my back.”
…“It’s wonderful to live closely together, sharing these experiences with one another.”
… “Each new person arrives with their life stories. We stay up late learning from and listening to one another.”
… “Holding everything in common helps us to keep the peace, no one has any more or less than he or she needs.”

I have no idea if these statements the youth shared with me were really true or not. These outgoing young people might have been from the Kibbutz Welcoming Committee for all I know, trying to get me to sign up and live there with them.

It’s a tempting thought, but I am not so sure my family would be into the move.

Speaking with these earnest, happy young people reminded me of my youth and the time I spent living in community at Silver Lake Conference Center. A part of me longs for those teenage years when I had such a close group of friends and the world was bright and beautiful every day.

Sometimes when we remembering times gone by we forget all of the bad stuff we’d muddled through. When I think about those years living at camp with so many others,
… it’s easy to forget that I shared a bathroom with nine young women for the summer,
… or that we argued about whose turn it was to use the washer/dryer,
… or which one of us borrowed another’s sweatshirt

It’s far easier for me to remember that we shared a common space, that when one of us received a care package we shared it equally, that when one of us cried we dropped everything to comfort that person, and that we covered for one another when we were exhausted. When I think back to the memories of my summers living at camp, I remember best the moments when we were a blessed community.

I wonder if being young has something to do it. Is it harder for adults to pull off living in community well? I mean, we’ve got – well – stuff! Most of us bring years of emotional baggage which we either suppress or use to keep others away. We’re established in life! Adults are concerned with who is in charge, and who has the authority in the system.

Both of these communities I describe: the kibbutz and Silver Lake are filled with mostly idealistic young people who are ready to change the world. But young people in any community, when they can be real with one another, share their sorrow as well as their joy. Just because you’re young doesn’t mean that you haven’t felt pain, rejection and grief.

Christians, and Congregationalists in particular, have always had a bit of an idealistic streak. We want peace in our church community, without any tension or arguments. We try and balance our ministries so that everyone has a share of resources according to their needs. We serve in places like Monroe, Bridgeport, Sharon, South Dakota and Cleveland so that all God’s children might have food, shelter, education and friendship. And we go on living our regular lives here in this regular town striving for a higher love.

What is clear is that at the heart of this church community is relationship. How we treat one another as brothers and sisters is the way we live out the commandment to “love one another as we love ourselves”. Those words we say each week from our covenant: “in Christian Love, we will care for and support each other” mean something real.

At coffee hour last week, I wandered over to say hello to some of our church school children. They were eating a quick lunch between church and Junior Choir rehearsal. I approached one of them and remarked about what a yummy lunch she had. And so, this child offered me half of her sandwich. What a loving heart that child has (for the record, I settled for a carrot stick)! For me, in that moment, the love of God here in this place was tangible.

Love is really what life in community is all about. Today’s text is a snapshot we who are shaped by the Christian tradition are meant to be. Our ancestors in faith took their meals in common, because there is nothing more satisfying than breaking the bread of life with those you love. They shared their possessions and resources, so that no one would be left out. All were welcome at the table. There was always room for one more. This, dear friends, is the realm of God!

I hope that this short sermon series has been helpful to you in considering our lives together. It isn’t easy living in community, but that’s what we are called by Christ to do. May we here at the Monroe Congregational Church learn to:
… Live as a community of resurrection people, with hope and possibility;
… Speak with courage as disciples;
… Remember that God’s love is the center of all that we do and all that we are.  Amen.

Love is from God - A Valentine

Love is from God. Everyone Who Loves is Born of God. (John 4:7)

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm here in chilly Silver Springs about to pack up my stuff for the week and head for home. Grateful to my friends Matt and Chris and their wonderful kids for hosting me for a week, and also really thankful for the conversations I've had with his church's staff and members. They've been open and honest with me about the joys and limitations of a larger church, and I've been happy to share with them some of my impressions as a visitor.

I realized something really important this week. As an Open & Affirming church, Christ Congregational Church has an active and thriving ministry around LGBTQ justice issues. Last night, about a dozen of us went to Annapolis to speak with state representatives in anticipation of a Marriage Equality vote that will happen sometime this week. I was inspired to hear Heather Miseur, one of the representatives at the heart of the debate, tell a roomful of her constituents about her journey as a devout Catholic and lesbian. I heard others talk about how difficult it was to be in the middle of this to have their families voted on. I also heard how they were loving the folks who were uncomfortable into a new reality and their hope that the tide was turning.

I also did a little self reflection. Because, in order to make this trip fit into what I've wanted to do on this sabbatical, I chose to be away from my husband on Valentine's day. Yes, it's a little bit of a Hallmark holiday. But Clark is a pretty romantic guy. There are so many couples in this country who do not have the basic rights and privileges of marriage that I enjoy, and here I am ditching him for my own personal and professional agenda. Not cool. So I'm leaving soon to come home a day early, on Valentine's Day, to surprise him. I think he will be happy to see me, because after 20 years together a person just knows.

Prayers today for all who love, for those who want to be loved, and those who are too scared to love. God bless.