Divisions, disagreements, separations, rifts, divides are the story of our time. Turn on the impeachment hearings to see in living color the divide between the Democrats and Republicans. In the church you find Pope Francis Catholics who disagree with Pope Benedict Catholics. Any news cast will highlight that the Christians and the Muslims and the Jews and the Hindus and the Buddhists are separated from one another – and that is not even to mention the separations that exist between the various Christian denominations. Look around to see the division between black and white and brown and yellow and red people. In the economic sphere there are disagreements between the 1% who are rich and the rest of us. During this year of the census the gulf between the rural and the urban and the suburban and the exurban will be highlighted. In some quarters there are strong feelings that there should be very clear national borders and you should stay separated on your side from me on my side. I have heard, and it might be true, that there is even a rift between White Sox fans and Cub fans. Division characterizes our age. But then again, not just our age, every age – it is an old, old story; it is part of the human condition. In fact, when you read the thirteen epistles of St. Paul by far his greatest concern was the presence of division. The passage from his first letter to the Corinthians is typical: “In the name of the Lord Jesus I urge that all of you agree in what you say and that there be no divisions among you but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose.” He worried most not about sin, about commandment breaking, about immorality as bad as those things were. The Apostle looked on disunity as the supreme danger that the Church faced. Then and now the inability to close the gap that existed between people raised the red flag.
It is no surprise then that, according to the Gospel of St. Matthew, almost the first thing Jesus did in beginning his ministry was to gather people together around him in unity. He got people to become companions in his efforts. “Come after me and I will make you fishers of men.” This is not for efficiency’s sake, to divide the work load, but because being together in and of itself starts to cure whatever ill we are trying to address. It is in the plan of God that we act as a body, with each individual contributing their bit to the effort. No doubt, Peter was a better fisherman than Jesus. No doubt, Martha could bake a better raisin cake than Jesus. He didn’t need to do everything as an individual because as a body, he and his companions were capable. The same goes for us. We must find others to share the load with. In that way we reflect the life of God who we describe as Trinity to reflect the divine significance of unity in diversity. When we don’t act together, as one, in the tasks which God has given us we are belying our nature as the body of Christ. When there are divisions, separations, differences we aren’t reflecting the fact that God made us to live and work and act in concert. If Jesus needed other people, certainly we need other people. And the people God has woven into our lives form the body of Christ who can make all things work together for good.
What does this say to us at St. James? We take a certain pride in the fact that we have created a sense of unity in the midst of our diversity. We are from different countries, of different races and ethnicities, of different age groups yet we all feel a common bond. There is cause for rejoicing in that. However, did you notice that the first word out of Jesus’ mouth as he began his public ministry was “repent.” Repent, convert, transform, change. We should take that word to heart. We should not grow content in doing pretty good — for the good is the enemy of the better and Jesus wants us to do better. When I was thinking about where I need to repent, to be converted, what came to mind was the phrase: “he is one of our own.” He’s from Baltimore; he’s one of our own. She’s Polish; she is one of our own. He is from St. James; he’s one of our own. Behind that phrase lies a sense that there are certain people who are in my circle of care – and, by implication, some who are not. That is an attitude I must repent of. There isn’t anyone out there who isn’t part of God’s circle of care so I must learn to expand mine as well. On the news recently there was a story about a shooting – all too common a story in Chicago. As the gangs were firing at each other a seven year old was hit. My circle of care immediately went out to her. Looking back on that I did not include the gang members in my care – so what if they kill each other off. That thought is not of God since God loves everyone. I must repent of the temptation to exclude others.
How do we repent of our tendency to limit our circle of care? One very practical suggestion can be found in the bulletin today — a flyer on “radical hospitality.” Several of the parish committees propose to you that St. James practice radical hospitality during this year. The bulletin provides several suggestions on how we might do that. The bottom line is that we need to build on the hospitality that we already practice and ratchet it up a notch. We need to create an atmosphere where anything that divides or separates us will be overcome. Ultimately, radical hospitality means that other people matter to us. They aren’t simply acquaintances riding the same bus, but partners who share in our life. When we work for greater unity we are responding to the prayer of Jesus to his heavenly Father at the Last Supper: “I pray that all may be one as you, Father, are in me and I in you. I pray that they may be one in us, that their unity may be complete.”
