A friend shared with me her commitment to
remember, at the end of the day, three things she was thankful for. It included the loopy flight of a yellow
warbler, the sound of silence, the crack of a baseball bat, and ice cream. But
for the most part the list was about people and relationships---a sister or
nephew, the stranger on the airplane who shared their story and asked for
prayers, the book study group at church, the neighbor across the street who
helps shovel the snow, the grocery store clerk with a great sense of humor, and
her best friend with whom she can be her real self and not fear
abandonment.
I don’t
think this comes as a surprise. If
you and I were marooned on an island, what would help make the experience more
bearable beyond a food source and clean drinking water and perhaps a shade
tree? We’d probably long for someone to
lean on—to talk to—to be hopeful with, right?
A few years ago Tom Hanks starred in the movie Cast
Away in which his character survives a plane wreck on an uninhabited island. A few FedEx packages survive the crash as
well—producing volleyball. Hank’s
character suffers a bloody hand wound which he uses to make a handprint on the
volleyball, and adds a face and a name—Wilson.
Wilson becomes his friend, someone he can talk to.
Friendship
is also one of the topics of conversation in the book Don Quixote by
Miguel de Cervantes. Cervantes
introduces us to four main characters; two are human—Don Quixote and his squire
Sancho. And two are not human—Don
Quixote’s skinny horse Rocinante and the donkey Dapple. Rocinante the skinny
horse and Dapple the sturdy and reliable donkey are dedicated friends. At one point in the book the author Cervantes
describes their relationship this way:
These two friends “used to
approach and rub each other, most lovingly, and after they’d rested and
refreshed themselves, Rocinante would lay his neck across Dapple’s-- it would
extend almost half a meter on the other side---and staring intently at the
ground, the two of them could stand this way for three days or, at least, for
as long as they were permitted to do so or were not compelled by hunger to look
for food.”
In his telling, Cervantes is offering humanity wisdom to
live by as he invites humanity to consider for themselves such dedicated
friendship.
Cervantes writes, “I say, then,
that…we can infer, to widespread admiration, how deep the friendship of these
two peaceable animals must have been, to the shame of human beings who do not
know how to maintain their friendships.”
Cervantes was
on to something when he wrote Don Quixote—humanity struggles to maintain
friendships.
In recent
years, a west coast architect by the name of Ross Chapin has discovered great success in his Pocket Neighborhood building projects.
Observing that so much of our struggles in society (depression, loneliness,
latent human growth and development, communication, crime) stem from our
tendency to distance ourselves from one another, Chapin builds not one home,
but a cluster of homes centered around a commons area where people can meet and
greet. Every home owner is responsible
for the commons area, both the grass and the building, as well as their
smaller, manageable property.
Every home has
a front porch with wide benches for sitting--which Chapin considers to be
another room of the house. Garages are
tucked in the back of the development, encouraging persons to walk by their
neighbors on the way to their own front door.
His Pocket Neighborhoods have waiting lists for persons who want to live
with other people in such a supportive, interactive setting.
When it comes to figuring out how to be fully human, American author Henry Miller said, “Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.”
This is also the same quest of the religion scholar who approached Jesus asking Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life (which means fully human)—and Jesus answers: 27 “That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself.” For Jesus the depth and breadth of our human experience is directly related to the quality of our relationship with God and others.
Maturity is not about being able to stand on our own two feet, it’s about being a part of the whole—God, neighbor--- with new understanding. As Dairmuid O’Murchu observes in his book In the Beginning Was the Spirit, “Belonging is the defining element in this new understanding. We become who we are---and what our potential makes possible—through our ability to belong.”
Did any of you read the letters to the editor in the Billings Gazette this morning around the NDO? The story that touched my heart was the one offered by the director of Tumbleweed—our program that addresses the needs of our troubled teenagers. “We see so many teenagers who, upon sharing with their families their sexual orientation, are expelled from their homes, from their families.”
I ask you, how are these children supposed to thrive? Who can they be apart from the family nucleus that nurtures them and gives them security? Community, beloved community, life-giving community!
We shouldn’t
be surprised, then, that belonging and flourishing is the role of the
SPIRIT. In our lesson today from 1
Corinthians the Apostle Paul teaches the Corinthian congregation about Spirit
and community. It’s cutting edge.
First,
whatever insight you and I have about God is a gift of the SPIRIT and not our
own doing. What might the
invitation be for us here today? I think
it’s simple: we stand amazed. And we see ourselves as we really are—acted
upon.
Second,
God’s gifts originate in the Spirit, are carried out everywhere, and are
expressed in a variety of ways. What might the invitation here be for us
today? One might be that we let God
surprise us—for us to be open—instead of certain, and closed.
Third,
the gifts we’ve been given tell us who God is and not the other way around. The invitation here is for us to offer
devotion TO GOD, instead of asking God to be devoted to us. By devotion I mean to truly appreciate God
for who God us; to love.
Fourth,
no one has all of the gifts. What might the invitation
here be for us today? It might be to do
the work to create healthy community where everyone belongs and flourishes—to
respect one another—because we are better together.
And
that, we understand, is by design.
And
that takes us back to Don Quixote and Rocinante the horse and Dapple the donkey
standing there in the field, heart to heart, for days. . . or at least until
they need to eat.
As we
grow in our understanding that we are better together, that we are fulfilled
through belonging—what are ways we can defy the odds that we might not be so
good at friendship…and redefine community, including our family, our
neighborhood, our church, and our town?
What
could we share? What do we have that
might be given away?
What
effort do we need to make to understand one another—be it a class on listening,
or on prejudices, or a retreat on understanding diversity?
Who is
lonely? Can we create some time for
them? If I am lonely, can I create time
for God?
Finally,
as Christ asks us, could we figure out what we need—and then do it for someone
else?
Mother
Teresa once said, “If we have no peace it is because we have forgotten that we
belong to each other.”
Let us
Pray: Our neighbors are made from the same earth, breathing the same air, held
in the same hand, part of the same body, whose health is our health, in whose
suffering we have a share, and whose joy, more than we may imagine, is ours to
share. May we fall in love with
community—your gift to us—that we might taste and see that you are good. Amen.
(This sermon was preached on June 8, 2014 by Reverend Dana Keener at Central Christian Church in Billings, Montana.)_
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