Becoming One, Not the Same

Introduction

During my childhood years I was introduced to a friend of my grandfather’s named Dayton Edmonds. Dayton was a full-blooded Native American of the Caddo Indian Nation of Oklahoma, a United Methodist Church and Community Worker, and a Missionary to the United States. He was working on either the Omak or Okanogan Reservation when my grandfather got to know him, and they became fast friends.

Dayton was a storyteller, a musician, and an artist. I can remember him telling stories in my grandparents’ living room, and while visiting the various churches that I grew up in. Dayton’s stories often felt somewhat familiar, yet different: stories about the Creator, about Great Spirit, and about messengers.

I have been blessed with plenty of other opportunities to meet and learn from people who are both culturally different from me and who practice even the most shared elements of our faith in vastly different ways.

When I was a little older, our church in Lynden, WA—almost spitting distance from Canada—started being visited by Filipino families from across the border. Several of these families soon became involved in the church. I started hearing Tagalog and Ilocano phrases and music, our potlucks became a whole lot more interesting, and the first time I tried Filipino mustard I swear I could smell in technicolor. These families infused our congregation with a new sense of what communal life together meant, transforming us from the typical, somewhat cold friendliness of many upper-middle-class communities to a genuine, familial warmth.

When I was a young adult, I had the opportunity to attend a Global Young Persons Convocation in Berlin, Germany. It was a gathering of United Methodist youth and young adults from all over the world to learn from one another, share in worship, and discover more about our global church. My roommate was from Congo and didn’t speak a word of English. But he did speak French, Portuguese, Swahili, and his local dialect of Bantu. I spoke English, a little German, a little Dutch, and enough French to tell him I had no idea what he was saying.

We were also jet-lagged in opposite directions.

Every morning he would wake up at 4:00 AM to pray, read aloud from the Bible, and then study to keep up with the university work he was missing. Looking at his textbooks, I discovered he was in medical school. And he was working his way through Acts as I tried to understand something he thought was funny—two roommates who couldn’t understand each other while he was reading about Pentecost.

Michael’s devotion and discipline were truly inspiring. As were our genuinely hilarious attempts at communicating.

1 Cor. 12 & Diversity in the Body

My point in telling you these stories—and many, many more stories I could tell—is that many of the richest experiences of faith, church, and Christian community that I have had have been because of embracing the diversity we find in the Body of Christ.

Sometimes seeing, hearing, or experiencing something that is so familiar from a different perspective opens us up to a deeper appreciation or understanding. Sometimes learning that my way isn’t the only way is a reason to praise God.

In the earlier part of 1 Corinthians 12, Paul tells the church in Corinth, "I don’t want you to be ignorant about spiritual gifts," and goes on to list various gifts: teaching, prophecy, healing, and leadership. Where we picked up the chapter today, starting in verse 12, Paul is explaining the value of diversity within the body of Christ. And not just diversity for the sake of diversity, but rather that we need the diversity of the body in order to function. The eye and the foot are both important.

And it’s not just that both are important—Paul’s message is that we cannot thrive without embracing the diversity of gifts and roles. Our interdependency upon one another comes from the reality that none of us are complete without the gifts of the others.

Body of Christ as Counter-Narrative

The Reverend, Professor, Doctor Mitri Raheb, a Palestinian scholar, argues in his book Faith in the Face of Empire that one of the basic controlling moves of empire—any empire—is to squash diversity. Empire will always seek control and domination through coerced conformity.

Alexander the Great and the Greek Empire had the ambitious plan to pour all tribes and groups into one gigantic melting pot, but the outcome of this forceful unification was utter confusion. The Caesars of Rome attempted a similar conquest, and they too eventually failed. Later, Emperor Constantine thought that by forcing one creed at Chalcedon, he could unite his empire behind one emperor and one "Christian" faith. The Oriental identities and expressions of faith were thus declared heretical and were alienated.

By contrast, Raheb argues, the church of Jesus Christ, from its founding on Pentecost, has offered a counter-narrative. People had gathered in Jerusalem from all the nearby nations. Their own languages were spoken, identities respected and embraced… the rich diversity of the region was embraced and celebrated. It was regarded as strength.

Celebrating that diversity is a key part of how our faith—the Jesus movement we are all part of—is actively resistive to empire. It’s one thing to know that no earthly empire is eternal and be ready to wait for what is next; that is a sort of passive resistance.

It’s another thing entirely to embrace who you were created to be, to show up with your full self, to be embraced and celebrated, and to revel in the joy your community finds in you. It’s an act of faith—that God our Creator made you uniquely you and declared you very good. Living with that faith, my friends, is active resistance to the powers of this world that have always sought to coerce conformity.

"Do not be conformed by the world," Paul writes in Romans 12, "but be transformed by the renewing of your minds so you can seek God’s will."

World Communion Sunday

Today as we come to the Communion Table, we are celebrating World Communion Sunday. It’s a tradition older than most of us, but one that didn’t really start to gain traction until after WWII when there was a great ecumenical push towards further cooperation.

For centuries the Church has argued and debated about how to correctly celebrate the Eucharist—debates that go on today as well. One minor example is our use of unfermented grape juice instead of wine.

But World Communion Sunday has always been a bit of a counter to those arguments. Rather than attempting to enforce conformity, our celebration today is that all over the world, people united by faith in Jesus Christ come to a table to remember and to celebrate. Our worship sounds and looks different, our elements for communion are not the same, and even our understanding of what’s going on here in this ritual differs. Yet, we are trying to fulfill Jesus’ prayer—that his disciples would one day be one.

Church, today I not only celebrate that somewhere those siblings in faith I have met may also be coming to a table to celebrate communion, but also the gifts their witness to faith has given me. Just as I celebrate the gift of each of you.

When I tell folks about Turnagain, I tell them what’s special—each of you, yes, and also the spirit of authenticity in this community. That you can show up and just be comfortable in your own skin here. That is what we mean by making yourself at home.

So let me just close with my pitch for today: Keep showing up. Keep joyfully being authentically you. It’s the counter-cultural, anti-imperialistic faithful resistance; it’s a source of hope for someone who may be doubting if their authentic self is really who they should be, too.

And recognize your gifts, too. Paul’s point is that God has uniquely blessed us all with gifts for ministry—and the church needs all of our gifts. That’s been on my mind a lot lately as our lay leadership committee and governing board are preparing our annual leadership nominations. We’re doing a lot of head-scratching about who to ask to do what… but what I know is that we already have the collection of gifts we need.

So when the right opportunity arises, you’ll say yes, remembering that your gifts are significant (no matter how you may feel about them), that they are divinely given, and that even if you don’t know it now, showing up and living your unique faith journey will inspire others to do the same.

Only differently.