That all may be one?

This week I got into a, shall we say, ‘intense’ discussion on Facebook.  Someone posted about how ‘those parasitical churches ought to pay taxes just like everyone else in the world,’ and I mentioned that churches have a large economic benefit for the community.  Of course, someone challenged that, and I dug for some research and statistics to back up that statement.  Which I found, by the way.

There were a lot of comments that started like “The church is” and described all the evils they had heard of.  Comments like “The Church destroyed indigenous people and their culture”.  That is true on the face of it, but Lutherans, Mennonites, Orthodox (Ukrainian and Russian), Baptists and other groups had nothing to do with residential schools. Should they be blamed for what the Anglicans, Catholics, Uniteds and Presbyterians did?  And other comments developed, I’m sure you can predict them, “All Christians are anti-abortionist,” or “science hates religion” despite the United Church having Nobel prize winning physicists in their congregations. Or my personal favorite “No progressive Christians spoke out against ‘fascist white brethren’s rants” to which I replied, “where were you when I was preaching ad nauseum against a certain red-haired president who didn’t even rule my country?”

And of course, we have the nauseating example this week of a young woman calling out her pastor for having sexually abused her when she was underage, the pastor tearfully confessing and the congregation rushing to forgive him and forgetting her.  And many folks in the states are saying that they are tired of prayers when it comes to school gun violence and racially motivated shootings.  “When do we do something?” they rightly ask.

Churches get blamed for witch hunts, crusades and patriarchy.  Case closed, churches are bad and the sooner we get rid of them, the better.  History proves it.

Or at least one very narrow way of looking at history. It ignores the history of ordinary people of faith whose daily living is shaped and sustained by their commitment to God. Ordinary people like Lydia who are transformed by a casual encounter by the river one day.

Do you remember Lydia?  Not the tattooed lady of Groucho Marx’s affections, but quiet Lydia in the town of Philippi? Not many people do.  There were no crusades in her name, and no cities named after her, no priests that ran inquisitions on her behalf.  But she points to a different kind of Christian history worthy of being followed.

She was a person of status, an independent businesswoman that was in the unusual position of being the leader of a household.  She was a seeker of meaning to life in general, and was looking for a God worth believing in.  She had gravitated to meeting on the Jewish Sabbath with other women, and the mere fact that they met outside the city meant that there were not enough Jewish men in the town to have a synagogue of their own.  It also meant that they were not comfortable discussing faith inside the city walls.  She was used to leading a household and dealing in valuable commodities like the rare dye to make royal purple, and she was a leader in a time and a culture that did not permit women to own things, and treated women as things to be owned.

Enter Paul.  He thought he was looking for a man from Macedonia.  He thought he was looking for a synagogue.  He thought he was looking for his fellow countrymen who were steeped in scripture and who already knew God through the covenantal love shown Abraham and Sarah, Jacob and Leah and Rebecca, Moses and Miriam and Aaron, David, Ruth and Esther.  Instead, he found a seeker who was a gentile and a woman.  She also was the first European to be converted to the new message of love and hope. 

What a hope it was!  From being a seeker in the wilderness, she became a baptized member of a community.  From discussions outside the city, she became a hostess demonstrating unheard of generosity.  From being an entrepreneur, she became a leader of the church of Philippi.  From being an ordinary, non-descript woman, she became a saint!

Paul loved these people and took inspiration from them to continue his mission.  In his letter to the Philippians, he wrote, “As God is my witness, how I long for you with the compassion of Jesus.”  He also thanked them for their generosity, seen in Lydia’s offer of accommodation. Their generosity continued as he also wrote, “You Philippians know that in the early days of sharing the Good News, when I left Macedonia, no churched shared with me… except you alone.  Even when I was in Thessalonica, you sent me help for my needs more than once… I have been paid in full and have more than enough.”

The city of Philippi is now a world heritage site after earthquakes and wars.  There is a lovely little church for baptisms nearby that is named after Lydia, the first person in Europe to be baptized into the Christian Faith.  At times like these where so many awful things are happening around the world and close to home, let us remember humble Lydia’s story.  Her love and hospitality laid the groundwork for a faith that would develop hospitals for the sick, hospices for the dying, schools for children whose parents could not afford private tutors, and compassion for those who were seen as unimportant.  Her faith survived plagues and wars, famines and natural disasters.  Her faith spoke to her neighbors, encouraging them and inspiring them, and transformed her whole household into a family of love.

When we remember the root principles of Christianity, love, hospitality, compassion and service, we strike a chord in the people we talk to.  The people on Facebook are shocked to hear that we care about the well-being of our community, and that we are compassionate to the powerless and the abandoned.  When we are united in love, we can make a difference that withstands the challenges of history and the tragedies that life can throw at us.  In life, in history, in life beyond history, we are not alone.  Thanks be to God!