April
17, 2005
Fourth
Sunday of Easter
Acts
2:2:42-47
John
10:1-10
“Boundless
Boundaries?”
I
think about the fact that First and Second Congregational Churches of New London
are talking bout what it could mean to be one church, and I think of the first
Christians so many years ago as they were coming together for the first time.
They asked a lot of the same questions we are asking now.
What does it mean to be followers of Jesus?
What should the community of faith look like?
How should we treat each other and how should we treat other people?
What is our ministry?
In the second chapter of the book of Acts we get a glimpse of the process
by which the first believers became the Church.
We find that they were in a spirit of cooperation and giving.
They gave of their personal possessions so that no one in the community
of faith would be in need.
They worshipped on a daily basis, “broke bread at home and ate their
food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all
the people.”
And their numbers increased daily.
These early years of the Church were defining years.
People came together and through seeking the Holy Spirit’s guidance and
working with each other, they gave shape to the community of faith.
But notice that “giving shape” didn’t mean building walls.
For them, Christian community meant a welcoming community of joyous
fellowship and generosity that reached out to others.
The Book of Acts was written around 65 AD (about 30 years or so after
Jesus’ death and resurrection), but the Gospel of John was written 30 or 40
years after the Book of Acts, sometime around the turn of the first century AD.
Between the writing of Acts and John, the city of Jerusalem was destroyed
by the Roman army.
Many of the Jews who had become Christians were killed at the same time.
The Book of Acts was written while there was still some toleration for
Christians (some even continued worshipping in synagogues), but by the time the
Gospel of John was written (and it’s contemporary, the Book of Revelation),
persecution of Christians was full-tilt.
And there were other threats to the Christian community.
A competing religion called “Gnosticism” was growing in popularity,
borrowing some ideas and images from the Christian tradition.
To members of the Christian community, followers of Gnosticism would have
seemed like “thieves” and “bandits” trying to break in.
Little wonder then, that the writer of the Gospel of John had a very
different understanding of Christ than the writers of Matthew, Mark and Luke.
Some scholars believe the Gospel of John contains very few of the
original sayings and teachings of Jesus.
They feel the Gospel was so heavily influenced by events of the late
first century, that it says at least as much about the Church as it does the One
who called the Church together in the first place.
They may be right about this, but how can any of us be sure one thousand,
nine hundred years after the fact?
What we do know is that times were hard for people when the Gospel of
John was being written.
Perhaps they circled their wagons when they felt threatened, drew
boundaries, carefully defined who was in and who was out.
This lesson about Christ being the gate and his followers being like
sheep in a fold, an enclosed and protected shelter, a community with clear
boundaries must have brought great comfort and strength to people living under
very difficult circumstances.
There are some today that think this passage was meant to be the
definition of Christ’s community for all time, but I’m not so sure.
I think it was a definition for that time, for people suffering
persecution, concerned with other religions, for people trying to stick together
and survive.
It was, “them against the world” and they needed a clear and simple
understanding of what it meant to be together.
But to know what the community of Christ is to be about at other times
and in this time, we need to look beyond the unique circumstances of the late
first century.
We need to go back the Book of Acts and see how the people of that time
understood what it meant to be the family of faith.
We need to return to Matthew, Mark and Luke, to see the Lord reaching to
all people.
We need to see him ministering to people at the fringes of society,
outcasts, the sick and disabled, foreigners and children and women, all people,
no matter their social class, race or nationality.
We need to look to the cross and the One who died for the sins of the
world, not just those within a particular sphere of theological understanding.
Such an understanding of Christ stretches the boundaries, seeks to
comprehend his boundless grace, his infinite and unconditional love.
There is more to say about Jesus than any of the individual Gospels has
to say, than any individual or community has to say.
Indeed, even in this time, God is still speaking.
Now having said this, let me also say I believe the writer of the Gospel
of John was really on to something when he quoted Jesus as saying, “I am the
gate for the sheep.”
Jesus opens us to an understanding of God we just can’t find anywhere
else.
Jesus reveals to us a God of grace where all rules give way to only one
– love.
Jesus opens a gate on eternity, a way of seeing things, knowing things,
experiencing things that is so liberating, so hope-filled, so encouraging,
it’s the only way to go for those who have been touched by its truth.
Wouldn’t the world be a much better place if Christians stopped
splitting theological hairs, condemning everyone to hell who doesn’t think
like them?
What would it be like if, instead, all who profess Christ broke bread
with gladness and lived with a spirit of generosity and shared with people of
other faiths and perspectives the healing, embracing, restorative, joy-filled
and ever-hopeful love of Jesus?
And shouldn’t we be opening that Gate?
When travelling from New London to Pawcatuck, one can make the passage in
less than twenty minutes by blasting down 95 and taking the appropriate exit at
the other end.
Point A to point B.
I don’t always choose to go that way.
Sometimes, I prefer to get off 95 right after the bridge and drive
through Groton, then Mystic, across the old drawbridge, then Stonington, staying
as close to the water as possible all the way.
It’s not the way to go for everybody, it’s the way I feel compelled
to go, and for a lot of reasons I think it’s the best way.
Perhaps in the end we’ll find there are many pathways to God.
But how good it is to go this way, through this gate with Jesus.