Thank you for welcoming me today. I am an Episcopal priest, but for several years I had the joy of pastoring a Lutheran congregation as it lived and worshipped with an Episcopal one. I learned a lot from that, not least an appreciation for Lutheran love of the Gospel. There truly is an evangelical spirit in the ELCA that I need and love.
One of the most powerful elements of that time was the effort on both sides to cross boundaries. The Lutheran congregation had become unable to support themselves financially, and they had few members. The Episcopal congregation offered them a place to worship, and gradually they began to talk of melding into one congregation. In those years we learned about our common roots and about our differences.
In the end they didn't meld. Many people feared losing their identity as Episcopal or Lutheran. We joked about being “Lutherpalians,” but the jokes covered some real anxiety. What is a Lutherpalian? Where do they belong? Why would I want to be one, when I could be a garden variety Episcopalian or Lutheran? The Episcopal church continues, but the Lutheran one decided to close. Some members stayed with the Episcopalians they had come to love, but most did not. And many Episcopalians who left during the years of experiment returned when things returned to "normal."
These questions about boundaries and about identities are not new to our generation. We are looking at them anew these days, as many are striving for the unity of the Church. But these questions and fears go back before the birth of the Church; they are basic to human nature.
We can hear echoes of these early contests in our readings today. We read that those who worship God and the Lamb come from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages. Now, scholars divide on just how diverse this body is. Some think that today’s passage is about the diversity among Israelites at the time rather than about all the people of the earth. For others it’s important to expand that field, to hear that “great multitude that no one could count” as extending beyond the borders of Israel to encompass all people who worship God in Christ. The fact that we still debate it tells us how hard it can be to know where the boundaries are.
Those boundaries were already being crossed by the time that the book of Acts was written. Today we hear the powerful story of Peter raising Tabitha from the dead. There’s a whole other sermon in that. Today I want to notice the way the Jesus movement deals with boundaries.
As a way in here, let's notice the fact that the author feels that he needs to translate Tabitha’s name into the Greek. Why does he do that? Probably because he is telling a story about Aramaic-speaking disciples to a Greek-speaking audience. He’s already translating. Boundaries are being crossed in the telling of the tale.
Then there’s the end of this passage. While Peter stayed in Joppa, he stayed with Simon, a tanner. Now, in Judean society of the time tanners were near the bottom of the social scale. Their work made them unclean according to purity laws. When Jesus was alive, it’s likely that Peter would not have gone near Simon. But things have changed.
Since Jesus left them, the disciples have spread out a bit. Some have gone on mission to Samaria, another place off limits to good Judeans and Galileans. Philip has converted an Ethiopian eunuch, another person who would be counted as unclean. Saul has experienced his moment of encountering Christ, and has been cured of his blindness by someone whom he persecuted in the past. Everywhere we turn, people are getting mixed up by this Holy Spirit.
This shouldn't come as a surprise. When Jesus was alive he consistently went to people who were looked down on or outcast. He welcomed the lowly and chastised the privileged. He did not exclude anyone, though plenty of people excluded themselves from his company.
Marcus Borg argues that Jesus turned the purity system with its "sharp social boundaries" on its head. In its place he substituted a radically alternative community characterized by compassion, by inclusivity and equality, and by a focus on real soul transformation rather than external conformity. And Garry Wills writes, "No outcasts were cast out far enough in Jesus' world to make him shun them, not Roman collaborators, not lepers, not prostitutes, not the crazed, not the possessed."
Here, in Christ, is where Simon the tanner meets Tabitha, who was likely quite wealthy. She gave of her resources to those on the margins and served them. Over and over, we hear this theme. Those who came together shared what they had. The Macedonian believers will send money to support the leaders in Jerusalem who have devoted themselves to preaching and teaching. Distance and language did not separate them.
Here, in Christ, is where those with two houses meet those who have none. If we do not meet those others, whoever they are, we must ask ourselves where Christ is. Historically our churches have mirrored the boundaries of our culture, whether lines of race, class, or language. We have too often mirrored boundaries of gender and sexuality within our congregations. Where, then, do we meet Christ? Where does Simon meet Tabitha?
I need to ask myself who I spurn as unclean or unworthy. Who do I turn from, refuse communion with? Who do I refuse to see as my neighbor? What boundaries have I drawn around myself?
Even if we cross boundaries important to our culture, we may find ourselves drawing new lines of enclosure. These are often lines of doctrine. Who is really Christian and who is not? Who is enough like me for us to worship and serve together? How far down the road can we go together?
John tells us that all who belong to Jesus hear his voice. John suggests that some of us do not belong, that our lack of belief or our doubts mean we don’t belong. This is the counterpoint to the inclusive vision of the other Gospels. I think it is best understood as the words of a group that was engaged in a fight over identity, a group for whom the opponents become a threat rather than potential partners.
It’s important to note that the communities associated with these writings generally did not survive. The focus on clear boundaries and the sense of oppositional identity weakened them rather than strengthening them. They became a sideline to the main movement, remembered through this powerful Gospel and other works but no longer a living body.
There are times for drawing boundaries, but if these boundaries are too rigid they become enclosures by which we imprison ourselves. Jesus devoted his life and teaching to crossing boundaries. All of us are his sheep. He welcomes us all into the flock. When we wander, he calls and watches. Some of us answer in one language, others in another, but his call is the same: love one another as I have loved you.
May we hear, and may we have the courage to follow wherever he leads. Amen.
