Sermon by Rev. Russell Daye

Fellowship

Romans 12
St. Andrew's United Church, Halifax

This sermon is the third of a five-part series. Each of these five focuses on a value that was articulated by St. Andrew's folks during our workshops, interviews, and discussions taking place during our Jubilee Year (a special year of celebration, dialogue, and renewal). At the end of the year, I am going to encourage the congregation to go through an exercise in self-definition, a process of describing St. Andrew's collective personality through the articulation of core values. I'm not contending that the five values I highlight in this series should be adopted as those core values, but rather, I am plucking out from among the values expressed during our deliberations five that have been named with special frequency or vigour and reflecting on them. You folks, of course, will be free to use or not use each of these values in the process of self-definition.

To review, the first value I identified was service, which was named with almost unmatched frequency. The second value preached upon was social transformation, which was not only give much attention (if somewhat less than was service) but also engendered debate about the kinds of activism we are comfortable with.

The value I want to reflect upon today was the only other one given as much attention as was 'service'. That is the value of fellowship. It was championed in the opening workshop, in the response to our launch party, and over and over again in the Appreciative Inquiry interviews to date. In response to the interview question, 'why do you keep coming to St. Andrew's?', there were many replies like the following: I come for friendship; I keep coming because of the sense of community; I keep coming because of the inclusion of all generations; I keep coming because of the openness of the congregation; I keep coming because it feels like home.

These responses are encouraging because they give us some confidence that we are already pretty good at creating what we value: fellowship. But just how much does our fellowship resemble that championed by the Gospel? I read for you earlier the entire twelfth chapter of Romans. It is a text that makes clear just how high is the standard of fellowship set by the New Testament.

Look for example at verse 5: 'so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.' We are members of one another. We are one body. Here we see a fading of individualism and an assertion that alone each member is as lost as a severed hand. Each gains value through being joined to and serving the whole and the other members. This meaning is captured in Paul's imperative: 'outdo each other in showing honour.' At least for the year or so that I've been here, St. Andrew's has been strong in showing this kind of honour. Folks here enjoy each other, respect each other, take good care of each other, and work hard to serve the church.

Paul's letter demands even more of us, however: 'Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.' Extend hospitality to strangers. This is something we here are eager to do; I am convinced of this. Our hosting of the Sunday Suppers (a free supper that feeds about 200 needy people each week) makes the point.

But, if you're like me, you're feeling somewhat ill at ease about something that prevents us from extending hospitality to some strangers: our privilege. St. Andrew's is a wealthy, very highly educated congregation with a lot of members with social sway. When people from other backgrounds visit they often feel a certain discomfort. By dressing the way we do, carrying ourselves the way we do, speaking of the things we do in the ways that we do, we create a social space that can seem closed to those with less privilege. I'm not suggesting that we try to be something that we are not, but I am prepared to assert that we have to be intentional about creating a social space that is more inclusive. This may require a reconsideration of how we decorate our sanctuary, or how we design our service, and - most obviously - of how we fellowship over coffee after the service. A number of visitors have spoken to me about his latter issue.

Now, let me mention a couple of very inclusive things we have done in the past year. The way we chose to celebrate the Jubilee Fall Festival with the Saved by Grace Gospel Choir was very helpful. That was an event that folks from a broad range of backgrounds could enjoy. The same thing could be said of our early Christmas Eve service last December, which was so well attended. Kevin and the choir take most of the credit for that. I'll mention again the Sunday suppers, but they also present a challenge.

Paul writes 'extend hospitality to strangers,' which we do, but he goes on: 'Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.' We might today challenge the language of the latter phrase, but the point is well taken. How much do we live in harmony with those who attend the Sunday Suppers? What would have to happen to give birth to a kind of fellowship that would find us rejoicing and weeping with them? It seems clear that a frank look at the Gospel compels us to consider making our fellowship more profound, to consider pushing it further beyond the boundaries of comfort.

I want to move on and consider a second way we may have to move our fellowship beyond the boundaries of comfort. This has to do with the way we fight. From what I have learned about St. Andrew's past, and from what I have witnessed so far, I don't think we're very good at managing conflict. This is no surprise to me. Very few middle-class churches are good at this. We suffer from what our coach Paul Scott likes to call the tyranny of niceness. He grew up in the working class and often accompanied his father to union meetings. Sometimes they got pretty hot. Sometimes differences were settled with knuckles. It was often ugly - but after the men confronted each other, after they had their say, after they disagreed fiercely, they went away with their relationships in tact and the lines of communication open. The men who fought most fiercely often went off together for a beer.

Now, I'm not suggesting that we settle differences with our knuckles, or even that we express ourselves as fiercely as these union men, but I am suggesting that in times of conflict we keep the lines of communication open, that we resist the impulse to withdraw into cliques with those who agree with us, that we forgo the temptation to point fingers at that mythical small group of people who 'really run things at St. Andrew's.' There is no way this congregation gets to where it needs to go without conflict. That's a given. So we either need to learn to disagree better and move on or we'll get stuck and wither away. We'll either learn to have creative disagreements that spawn good decisions or we we'll decay.

The final section of Romans 12 holds much wisdom about conflict. Look at verse 17: 'Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all.' Also verse 21: 'Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.' From this section, we can draw a few good rules of thumb, a few good norms for conflict.

• Firstly, when we're getting upset about something let's ask ourselves, 'is this at the centre of the Gospel?' A great deal of church fights are about peripheral things. Let's save our energy for the key issues that resonate with the example set by the Son of Humanity.

• What is more noble than impugning noble motives to others? In other words, assume that the person with whom you disagree is functioning with honourable motives drawn from solid values until it is no longer possible to do so. Give them the benefit of the doubt, not once but seven times seventy times.

• Even then, when you can no longer give the benefit of the doubt, do not return evil for evil. Do not return rancour for rancour. Do not return harsh words for harsh words. 'Overcome evil with good.' Note well: I'm not saying hold your peace. I'm saying say your peace with gentleness and empathy.

• Finally, let's take refuge in Paul's words: 'do not claim to be wiser than your are.' Do you really know what's best for St. Andrew's? I don't. We have to leave room for the Spirit to show us what's best and on any given day the Spirit can choose any given person through whom to speak. We have to be open to the possibility that the Spirit is choosing to speak through the person who most drives us up the wall.

So, sisters and brother, while we are a church with real fellowship, with deep fellowship, even righteous fellowship, we are a church being challenged to go beyond itself and find a more righteous fellowship. We are challenged by the Gospel to forgo the tyranny of niceness and to move into a place of trust and honesty that invites the Spirit into our centre. We are challenged by the Gospel to go beyond the tyranny of sameness to a place of inclusion and connection that will make our table the banquet table for all - regardless of race, class, language, orientation, or education.

My boys have a favourite phrase that they stole from their auntie Charlotte. When faced with a seemingly daunting task, they proclaim 'some challenge!' That's what lies before us: some challenge!