Mutuality

Zechariah 7:8-10; Galatians 6:1-5; Philemon 17-20

If Christ came for no other reason, he came to draw people together in radical fashion, taking our basic concepts of friendship, community, and fellowship and transcending them all, creating what theologians name communion—which is being connected to another human being or community heart, mind, and body. It is also a radical togetherness that takes all forms of human division and stratification and explodes them, reducing all perspectives into the singular focus of seeing another human being only as a child of God, yet miraculously preserving and accepting them fully as they are and for who they are. To use an utterly immediate example—the radical gathering of Christ takes an Israeli and a Palestinian in such a way that they cease to be enemies, becoming only children brought into being by God, yet also accepting them as who they are as an Israeli and as a Palestinian, recognizing that God makes each of us unique acts of God’s creative will. 

That thought alone is enough to stop us completely in our tracks.

How in the world can anyone possibly do that?

Look at Christ’s own walk within the human community. As Christ passed through those same avenues of Palestine now combat zones, note that they were already combat zones 2000 years ago. The divisions were stark and borders harsh. Jews and Samaritans existed only in minimal tolerance of one another, with great moments of depravity defining their relationship as one afflicted the other. Judeans and Romans lived in uneasy tension, with the Judeans never able to accept the dominance of Rome easily. Flares of violence erupted from time to time as Zealots sought to overthrow the Romans through terrorism and sedition, violently rising against fellow Jews like the Herodians who thought the best course was appeasement and engagement. It came to a head in 70 AD when the Zealots staged an all-out rebellion that ended badly as Rome destroyed Jerusalem and the temple within it. How did Jesus meet such a war torn and violently divided context? He welcomed everyone and anyone as they were. He spoke with Samaritans. He welcomed Romans, even healing those they cared for. He engaged all the parties in Judaism, welcoming debate and dialog. He had representatives of seemingly all the different subgroups in Israel in the Twelve. He met men, women, and children with complete and total equanimity. At every turn, he refused to accept human degradations and separations. He met all with compassion, grace, and mercy.

Well and good, we respond. He was God, and we are not.

Ah, but Jesus anticipated that excuse. Being completely one of us and one with us, he knew all that would rise up within us when something (or God) came along and challenged our carefully constructed cardboard worlds that give life order and structure, usually on completely selfish terms (the essence of Calvin’s doctrine of Total Depravity). Note that when Jesus encountered human beings, he never once uttered the phrase, “Worship me.” Instead, he intoned the far more challenging (and frightening) words, “FOLLOW ME.”

He underemphasizes his communion with God as he calls disciples, rather he emphasizes his communion with those called. “I am one of you; you are with me; you can do this,” seems to be his emphatic admonition. 

So begin close to home where we already (hopefully) feel pretty connected and engaged with others. As Paul wrote to his congregations, he underscored that foundation, calling the congregants to practice mutuality. In community, we share experiences. At home, we share the joy, suffering, success, failure, attainments, and losses of each person there. Yes, it gets overwhelming, but for the most part, we muddle through. We learn the intimate arts of compassion, sympathy, empathy, and bonding that give our homes strength, endurance, and longevity.

AN ASIDE: as we consider this list, we see where family dysfunction arises, too, and perhaps invitations   

        to find help, solace, and counsel to strengthen these intimate circles.

As we learn to develop communion within our own homes, we can take those gifts, strengths, and abilities into the world, applying the same effort and engagement with those with whom we work, with whom we share space in the world, with our neighbors, and even, as our confidence and wisdom grow, with the strangers in our midst. 

Now I want to reveal to you the reality of the transcendent in our midst through such practice and praxis. 

Former President Jimmy Carter made waves this week with a radical suggestion for peace in Israel. He argued that to truly foment peace between the Palestinians and the Israelis, there needs to be real and full engagement with those who represent the majorities of both peoples, bringing full listening and acceptance of them to the table; i.e., recognizing Hamas, in particular, as a legitimate party in any negotiations (ForeignPolicy.com, 8/4/2014). The blogosphere erupted in uproar. I think, though, we need to look at Mr. Carter’s praxis as a Sunday School teacher to understand what he is thinking. I think he is reading the Gospel as the Gospel is. He has met Christ in that full acceptance of everyone and anyone on their terms in order to work the radical transformation that will bring healing, peace, and the kingdom of God to earth. No, I do not think he condones the violence and bloodshed brought by the warring factions, but I think he sincerely believes that engagement with others as full human beings—no matter what the starting point as that dialog begins—is the key to any sort of success. Mutuality lays the first stone in finding an end to violence.

We may not agree with, or fully comprehend, or even like Mr. Carter’s thoughts here, but his approach is a  manifestation—stunning as it is—of what the practice of mutuality leads to, if we apply Christ’s standards of mutuality to our very real world and our very real lives. 

The deepest challenge set before us, then, is whether or not we are willing to follow Christ wherever Christ leads, even if that is radically opposed to all we assume to be true, right, and proper.

That’s going to take some deep prayer.

Let’s start.