Fifth Easter
I Peter 2:2-10
Some of you may be familiar with a best selling book published about a year ago entitled "Eats shoots and leaves." The book is a farcical romp through the terrors of current grammar misuse and delightfully exemplifies the turmoil that is created by inexact word usage and improper grammar. The title refers to the "Panda" entry in a poorly punctuated wildlife manual that, if believed, indicates the panda is truly to be feared, especially after eating. "Eats, shoots and leaves."
I wish the author, Lynne Truss, could have had a go at whomever it was that wrote our second lesson for today. Translators and scholars have thrown up their hands trying to make a cogent whole of this text. Perhaps it is testimony to this passages powerful message that despite its convoluted presentation it stands as such a memorable scripture.
Imagine if you will a group of early Christians, somewhere in the Mediterranean world close to sixty years after Jesus death and resurrection. Perhaps they're gathered in a small house church. They are not the rich and powerful of the community; no they're outsiders, foreigners, laborers, the poor. Society as a whole doesn't have much time for them especially with their strange belief in this Jesus Christ. And their leader is reading them this catechism, this little instruction book of the faith.
The teacher begins by telling these newly baptized believers that they are like "newborn infants." They have tasted the nourishment that will help them grow and now they long for it. They are just beginning to live as Christians; they have just started to serve Christ.
The world around them will not encourage their belief, they may even be rejected by their families and ridiculed and harassed. But they have received the ultimate affirmation from God.
"You are holy, you are precious, you are chosen you are called, you are in the eyes of God important, significant and necessary people. And it is through Christ that you have become the building blocks of the new creation."
Almost three years ago now, Doug and I visited Dresden, Germany. Dresden was the sight of some of the most extensive bombing in Germany. A once beautiful city was reduced to rubble very close to the end of World War Two. In the center of Dresden is a church, the Freuen Kirche. Following the war only two parts of two walls were left standing of this 250 year old domed structure. The rubble of the church was left to decay all the time that Dresden was behind the iron curtain. But in the early 1990's, with private contributions from all over the world work was started to restore this beautiful edifice. When we were there it was about half completed. Around the perimeter of the work site were huge shelves and on the shelves were huge stones, each individually categorized and numbered. If a stone was found in the rubble that could be used it was labeled for its own special place. Where stones were missing new ones were cut to exact specifications to fit in their own particular and individual place. Some stones were enormous foundation pieces; some were small and chiseled for the details around doors and windows. Old weather-darkened stones were to be butted against bright fresh cut ones. What a painstaking process. Each and every stone chosen, cleaned, reconstructed and precious. Each and every unique stone essential to building the whole. I don't think I'll ever be able to read this passage without thinking of the Freuenkirche which is now completed and has been topped off with a beautiful golden cross surrounded by the rising sun.
The Freuenkircke is its own special metaphor for the church -a church built not with wood and glass and plaster but with what I Peter calls living stones--those precious, unique individuals who bring their own gifts and talents for the upbuilding of the whole.
But I Peter has another message for this group of newly baptized recruits. He wants to assure them that they are not in this great task alone. No one stone holds the whole together and it is only in the dependency that the whole stays together. Surely you've seen the vast arches of the great cathedrals. The thing that holds them together is the pressure the sides put against each other. This concept is captured beautifully in a poem by John Ciardi. It's a poem entitled "Most Like an Arch This Marriage" and while is speaks particularly to the marriage relationship it is true for most relationships in life as well. Picture in your mind great stones built high to make an entrance an arch
Most like an arch--two weaknesses that lean
into a strength. Two fallings become firm. And again
I am no more than upright and unset.
It is by falling in and in we make
the all-bearing point,
Now John Ciardi didn't say this but the point at which we fall in, the center point against which we lean is the capstone; as our lesson says "The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner." The center stone, the one that bears the weight of both sides is of course the Christ. As we bring our vulnerabilities, our weaknesses and our failings and allow them to fall in to the center point we become stronger. We support and uphold one another and in the process become a sanctuary for others.
And that is the final important catechism point for out lesson today. We are created for a reason and a purpose. Once we come to Jesus Christ, the living stones chosen and precious in God's sight then we are called to be living stones built into a spiritual house providing refuge for the strangers and aliens in the world around us. Thus, as the church we become home for the widow and the alcoholic; home for the adolescent rejected by her peers, home for gays and straights. We become home for the wife trapped in a stagnant marriage, home for the business executive that has just been downsized out of a future, home for the wealthy law partner whose soul feels impoverished, home for the brilliant scientist whose heart feels cold. We become home for the single adult who feels ignored and the octogenarian who feels irrelevant. We become home for the woman who loses control and the man who abuses control. If our own gratitude gives us enough courage we become home for the truly homeless--those who live on the streets and smell bad and talk funny.
The church is home for the walking wounded--at the same time that it is a holy nation, a royal priesthood, the chosen people of God. If ever there were a rags to riches story this is it--and we are the main actors in the drama. Yes indeed we are valuable lovely precious people who have been given a permanent home in the heart of God.
All of which makes us a pretty exclusive community. Not exclusive because we shut people out but because we welcome everybody in. We are exclusive because of the distinctive values which shape our lives--values of unconditional love, values of generous acceptance, values of eager tolerance.
Today we welcome two new additions to the construction process, two living stones to the building of the church. We can know very little about where life will take them or what's around the next corner. But I Peter would remind these new members are precious, chosen stones in the building that is the church. Their weaknesses will be their strength as they lean in to the one who is the capstone so that whatever life brings they can be strong in the strength that is the whole. And we know that they, as we, were created with a reason and purpose--to build a place where love lives where we can share the love that we ourselves have received with the world.
Amen