Ancient Church

When we come to church and hear the reading of the Epistle for the day, we are used to hearing that the reading is from a letter written by St. Paul. Indeed, almost all of the New Testament epistles are written by St. Paul, and over time they become familiar to us. We see him, rightly, as the teacher of great theological truths. Yet we sometimes forget the context in which he lived and operated, and how that context relates to us.

Imagine, if you will, a parish that is fairly new, one that is struggling to define itself. It is a parish that is located in an environment where most of the people around it do not understand what the parish believes or how it worships. This small parish does not have a building of its own. Usually it meets in borrowed space or in the home of one of its members. Its members sometimes face hostility from their own family members. At other times, conflict within the parish itself causes people to leave, or even to fall away from the faith entirely. But most of the Christians in this parish remain devout and dedicated, and strive to live a Christian life, following after Christ Himself.

When I describe that parish, you may think that I am describing our Mission, and you would be right. But that same description applies also to every church that received an epistle from St. Paul. Whether in Rome or Corinth, in Ephesus or Thessalonica, Paul was a missionary, and he lived and breathed in the context of the missions that he established. Paul was not writing to people in great cathedrals, or in long established parishes. He was writing to small missions; to people with whom he was intimately familiar. We see this in every letter. He greets by name great numbers of people, and passes along greetings from other people who are wherever he is at. Like it is now, you can tell that the Church of St. Paul’s time was a small world. Sometimes we hear about six degrees of separation to describe how close we might be to people we don’t know in different parts of the world. In the Church, I think it is more like two or three degrees of separation at most, and that was certainly true in St. Paul’s day.

I make a big deal out of this for a reason. If we understand that Paul was writing to people who were like us, and faced many of the same pressures that we face, and the problems that we face, then it gives us a new perspective on what Paul is saying. He is not simply writing theory. He is writing what he has found to be day to day truth.

When I first looked at today’s epistle, I was struck by how precisely it spoke to our own situation here at St. Elizabeth. It is as though the great Apostle was thinking of us when he wrote these words to the small and struggling fellowship in Rome. St. Paul is talking to us about our role in the Church, and about how we relate to each other. It is important to understand what he teaches, because the Body of Christ is not like any other group of people. It is not like a corporation or a social club, it is not like the boy scouts or a school. It is a unique body, infused with the Holy Spirit, and purchased, and led, by Christ Himself.

The first thing that Paul teaches us is that we all have a role to play. There is nobody in this parish that simply attends, that is simply a warm body occupying space, that is not important to the life of the Church. Instead, St. Paul teaches us that we all have a gift. For some, it is ministry, for others teaching, or encouragement, or leadership, or even mercy. Nor should we think that the list in today’s reading is exclusive. In several other places in his epistles, the Apostle has similar teachings, and his list of gifts or ministries is different in each instance. In truth, there is no list of spiritual gifts, set in stone to the exclusion of all else.

It is funny in a way. You sometimes hear people expressing some amount of angst over the question “What is my spiritual gift?” Sermons are preached, classes are taught, weekend retreats are conducted, all with the goal of trying to determine: what is my spiritual gift? Often people have trouble deciding. I have had people talk to me at length, dithering about whether they are called to prophesy, or teach, or…well, fill in the blank.

Here is the truth of the matter: your spiritual gift, in the way that St. Paul speaks of it, is whatever you find yourself naturally doing. If you sing, that is your gift. If you teach, that is your gift. If you are good with administration or finances and you use this to serve the parish, then that is your gift. If you sit quietly in a corner and just smile at everyone, that is your gift. And, over time, the gift you offer may change, as a person matures and develops in Christ. A person may decide to sing, or a man may decide that he wishes to look into entering the clergy. If it is a natural progression, untainted by pride or vainglory, then you can be confident that it is God that leads you.

There is a corollary to this. Since each of us brings our gift, our unique contribution to this parish, we feel it deeply when that person is no longer there. It really doesn’t matter why the person leaves. It may be death, or because the family has to move. It may be due to some vague discontent or perceived conflict. For whatever reason a person is no longer with us, the truth is that we have all suffered a loss. There is a hole in the fabric of the parish, a hole that must be repaired. And – it must be said – the person that leaves will, on some level, either consciously or unconsciously, also feel a sense of loss.

Do you see? A parish family is a mystical family. It is a microcosm of the Church as a whole. We are not a random group of people, but a collection of souls, brought by God into one place in order to constitute that local Body of Christ. St. Paul certainly understood that, and for that reason he continues today’s epistle with the second great teaching. Having each brought our gift to the Church, we must be bound by love. It is worth hearing again what he has to say:

Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.

This reflects the high priestly prayer of Christ Himself, found in the 17th chapter of the Gospel of St. John: that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I am in you…that they may be made perfect in one.

This is a serious matter. Elsewhere, in his first letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul is clear about the depth of our connection, when he writes:

And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it…For you are members of Christ and particular members of His body. (1 Cor. 12:26-27)

We share in joy, we share in sorrow, we share in suffering. Between us, there is no distinction. The modern Greek saint, Elder Porphyrios, put it this way:

We all need to be one, one with Christ as our head! Just as Christ is one with the Father. This is where the profoundest depth of the mystery of the Church is concealed…This is where the fullness is to be found – in this unity, in this love in Christ. There is no room here for any separation or any fear.

Indeed, at the end of the day, this mystical union of the members of a parish is an earthly example of heavenly theosis. Just as we are called to an intimate spiritual union with God Himself, we find a type of that union to be the brotherhood that we share here on earth, in our mission, in our role as members of the Body of Christ. It is yet another of the mysteries of Christ, that our salvation is intensely personal, but at the same time it is also inextricably bound up with our brothers and sisters.

This is not news to any of us. I am not saying anything you do not already know. Instinctively, we know the truth of the matter, and I suspect that has a large role to play in the love that permeates this mission, a love that all of us here share. But as St. Paul makes clear elsewhere in his letters, this is not something that we can take for granted, that love will thrive without effort. We must be constantly vigilant of ourselves and of the parish as a whole, that we continue to practice charity and love toward our brothers and sisters in Christ. We must always remember that in the Church of Christ, there are no free agents. There is no “I” and “you”. There is no “us” and “them”. There is simply “us”, a collection of souls brought together by God, for His glory, and our salvation.