The Apostles’ Creed, A Lover’s Quarrel: The Holy Catholic Church A sermon by Rev. Aaron Fulp-Eickstaedt At Immanuel Presbyterian Church, McLean VA On August 25th, 2013

Ephesians 4:1-16

Today I continue my summer sermon series The Apostles’ Creed, A Lover’s Quarrel by looking at the phrase, “the Holy Catholic Church.” It is one of the parts of that ancient statement that is problematic for some because the vast majority of us, when we say the word catholic, can’t help but think of the Roman Catholic Church. Of course, the statement dates to a time well before we had the notion of a Roman Catholic Church. The word catholic meant universal, unified, literally concerning—or according to—the whole.

The New Testament writers, well before the church became institutionalized, were concerned for how believers would live and serve together in unity. The author of John’s Gospel portrays Jesus in the Upper Room on the night of his arrest praying for his disciples, “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word,” he writes. “That they may all be one… the glory that you have given me I have given them, that they may be one as we are one.” The author of Matthew’s Gospel is the only writer to use the word church; he uses it twice in chapter 18, once when Jesus tells the disciples what to do “if a member of the church” sins against you. And unity is a constant theme in Paul’s writings, including in his correspondence with the Corinthians. In 1st Corinthians 12, Paul speaks of Christians possessing a variety of spiritual gifts and he reminds the Corinthians that they are all part of the body of Christ— each part serving a function.

At the end of Chapter 12, after he goes into all of this wonderful stuff about being part of the body and having different gifts, Paul writes, “I will show you a still more excellent way.” Then I Corinthians 13, the love chapter, begins. He follows his words about being part of the body, having different gifts, with an admonition to love. You know the passage.

And then there is the passage I selected for today, from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. As you listen to it, notice how Paul urges them to live a life worthy of the calling to which they’ve been called. There is nothing in his list, by the way, about being “right”. Instead there is an encouragement to grow into the measure of the full stature of Christ. Three times there Paul mentions the word love: bear with one another in love, speak the truth in love, aid the body’s growth in building itself up in love. So listen now for God’s word in Ephesians 4:1-16.

I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore it is said, ‘When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people.’ (When it says, ‘He ascended’, what does it mean but that he had also descended- into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.) The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knitted together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.

Rob Reiner’s cult classic film The Princess Bride is one of those movies filled with memorable quotes. One of my favorites comes from the character Vizzini (the Sicilian kidnapper played by the vertically challenged Wallace Shawn, the furthest thing from a Sicilian you’re going to find), who lisps the word “inconceivable” at every plot twist. At a certain point, Vizzini cuts a rope that should send the Dread Pirate Roberts plummeting to his death. But Roberts does not fall. He catches hold of a rock and clambers up. When Inigo Montoya points this out, Vizzini says, “He didn’t fall? Inconceivable.” To which Montoya the Spaniard, played so wonderfully by Mandy Patinkin, says, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

So it is with the word ‘catholic’ in the Apostles’ Creed. We keep using the word, but I do not think it means what some people think it means. This might suggest that we find a different word, easier for modern ears to understand. One that does not make some hearers think that we are making a pledge of loyalty to the Pope and the Roman Catholic hierarchy…. One that does not conjure up memories of confessional booths, and going to Mass, and nuns in their habits rapping your fingers with a ruler. I understand the problem. I do. The archaic language of the creed is part of my lover’s quarrel with it.

Be that as it may, it is helpful to understand what the word catholic with a small ‘c’ actually means. From the Greek Kata-holos, literally according to the whole, the word catholic can be translated as universal or unified; comprehensive; broad in sympathies, tastes and interests; including or concerning all humankind. That’s a pretty expansive definition.

It’s bigger than Roman Catholics versus Protestants, bigger than Evangelicals versus Progressives, Conservatives versus Liberals, High Church versus Low Church, traditional versus contemporary, Republican versus Democrat, American versus whoever is not from America. It points to something even larger than one religion or party or nation. Which is why I think it’s good that we say we believe in the Spirit before we say we believe in the Church Universal. You see, the Spirit comes before the church—it preexists any religion or religious expression.

Now we can say we believe in a unified, universal church all we want. We can say we believe in the universal brother and sisterhood of humanity. But the truth is that this sort of unity has always been pretty hard to come by.

These divisions started among human beings and within and not just between religions, well before the Advent of Christianity. The history of the world can be told through reference to wars and conflicts of ideas and movements. In fact, that is often how it is told.

Chart it out: Ancient Greece, Sparta, Troy, Ancient Rome. The Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Persians, the Medes. Conflicts in the Far East, and the Near East, and the New World….

The history of Christianity can be told in the same way: as a battlefield of ideas, as a tale of schism after schism. Councils and Synods with winners and losers, the division of the church into the Western church and the Eastern church in 1054, the Reformation….

And even earlier: Paul’s group and Apollo’s group, Paul’s party and Peter’s party. The circumcisers and the ones who thought you didn’t have to be circumcised. The ones who thought it was okay to eat food sacrificed to idols, those who thought it wasn’t.

You don’t have to go far into the history of the early church to begin to see divisions. They are there by at least the fourth chapter of Acts, if not sooner. Already in the early church, just months after Jesus died and rose and ascended, there was arguing. Of course, Jesus’ disciples were arguing before that, right? Disputing amongst themselves on the road about which one of them was the greatest.

That’s why Jesus prays for unity in John; and tells the disciples how to handle disputes in Matthew; and why Paul just keeps coming back to telling people in the communities of faith to which he wrote, to get along—to work together, to be patient and kind and forbearing and loving.

I’m not sharing this because I feel like we’ve got a particular problem with this at Immanuel, it’s just I’m preaching on the holy catholic church.

To say that I believe in the holy catholic church, to say that I believe In the dream of denominations working together, of conflicts within denominations being resolved, of reconciliation being reached between individuals and groups in congregations doesn’t mean that I always see it lived out in practice. It is an aspirational kind of affirmation.

I think Paul provides us a way towards that aspiration. He starts off by saying that he is a prisoner for the faith. He points to the fact that he’s invested enough in the whole project to be imprisoned for it, to suffer for it. He’s not some sort of impartial observer writing an op-ed in the Jerusalem Times.

Then he tells his hearers to live a life worthy of the calling to which they’ve been called; which nowhere involves a statement that they have to consider themselves right and other people wrong, or a challenge to somehow prove that they are right and other people are wrong. No, instead he beckons them to humility, to gentleness, to patience, and to forbearance. Bearing with each other.

It’s been really fun this summer to hear everyone share their anniversaries in celebrations here in church or on Facebook. 7 years, 25 years, 38 years, 45 years, 69 years for Vic and PJ Bray.

I think about the unity that is evident in those marriages, and I think about the people that are exhibiting that unity. I know them. They do love each other. But let me tell you a secret. They don’t always, in every single instance or aspect of their lives, agree or get along.

Sometimes they have disagreements. I remember in my previous church, in North Carolina, when I was telling an older couple about the premarital counseling I do with couples, and how I spend an entire session on conflict resolution, they said to me, “Oh, Aaron, we have never had a disagreement in our whole marriage.”

I thought to myself, “Were you there two weeks ago? Are you kidding me?” But I didn’t say anything.

The truth of the matter is that the unity evident in any marriage involves humility. It involves recognizing that we are made of the same stuff. It involves gentleness with each other’s flaws. It involves patience with each other’s growth. And it involves a certain amount of simply bearing with each other—which means, among other things, not having to be right all the time.

Now, not every marriage works. They don’t. Marriages take two people to make them work. They fail for a variety of reasons. But I will tell you this: You can’t make a relationship work in a marriage, you can’t make a relationship work in a family, you can’t make a relationship work in a friendship, you can’t make a relationship work in a community of faith, without the ingredients, eventually, of humility, gentleness, patience, and a certain amount of simply bearing with each other.

How do you keep your focus then? Well, Paul says part of it is recognizing that there are a variety of gifts. In different congregations, and different individuals, there are a variety of gifts. Some people are prophets and apostles, some are preachers, some are teachers, etc. I would go on to say that some people are international mission folks, and some people are community service and action people. Some people play the organ like it’s going to be played in heaven. Some people play the guitar extremely well. Some people sing like a bird. Some people play the trumpet like Gabriel blowing his horn. Some people are congregational care folks. And some people go to Anacostia. And some people do both.

There are a variety of different gifts and interests in the church. Some people work well with junior highs. And some people, if you asked them to do that, would say “I’m busy that day.” There are a variety of gifts and talents in the church.

There are a variety of ideas as well. Which brings us to the end of the passage we read this morning….

Near the end of today’s passage, Paul says, “we must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming.”

I read that and I thought to myself, oh, I don’t like that. How can I skip that? Because that passage has been used to justify heresy trials. The people who think they’re right say, “Well, Paul says, some people are blown about by every wind of doctrine, and I’m not one of those people and our church is not one of those churches. So they settle down and say we know what right doctrine is, and for the sake of the unity of the church we’re going to make sure that doctrine is rightly interpreted, according to the way we understand it.

But I read the passage some more. I read it and I reread it. And it occurred to me that Paul is not talking about having the right answer, everybody agreeing on a particular point of theology— within or between denominations, within or between congregations. He’s talking about not letting doctrinal disputes throw you off course or cause you to miss the main point.

And the main point for Paul (he mentions it three times in the passage and devotes an entire chapter to it in Corinthians) is love.

You saw it on TV or the internet this week. You are certainly are aware of what happened this week at Ronald McNair Discovery Center, an elementary school down in Decatur, GA, not too far from where Judith and I attended seminary.

A mentally ill man went into that school, and he was armed to the teeth. He was prepared to kill people.

And in the front office was a woman named Antoinette Tuff. She wasn’t even supposed to be at work that day. She was there at the business office counter and she talked this guy down.

Have you listened to the 911 tape? I listened to it again yesterday and before it was through I was a puddle of tears. Here she is hanging in there with this young man, just being a model of grace under pressure, compassion under the prospect of fire. Affirming his humanity. Telling him, “No, no your life is not over. You don’t have to do this. I love you. I love you. I know what it is to go through a hard time. My life hasn’t been all easy either. I just got divorced from my husband after 37 years and I tried to commit suicide.”

Please listen to the audio of her conversation with him—and how she’s talking to the 911 operator asking her to tell the police to not come in with their guns blazing because this young man is going to give himself up.

She hangs in there with that young man. She doesn’t state any doctrine other than this: the doctrine of love.

If there’s anybody who it would be easy to demonize, it would be a school shooter—coming in ready to take children’s lives. But she didn’t do that. She treated him as a human being.

And there are so many ways in which this young man was different than Antoinette Tuff. He was younger than she was. He was white she was black. He was a male she was female. He was mentally ill, she wasn’t. He had guns, she didn’t. They were different all right.

But what she had was grace under pressure. What Antoinette Tuff had was the doctrine of love for all people. And she hung in there and loved him. And she not only talked him down, she talked down the police, who could well have come in using deadly force.

When she was being interviewed and asked how she was able to do that, she mentioned that her pastor had been preaching on the concept of anchoring: anchoring yourself in God and God’s love. And that’s what she was doing.

She was so anchored that she could see that young man as a threat yes, but also someone whom she was called to love.

Jelahadin Rumi, that Sufi poet, who as far as I’m concerned could be confused for a follower of Jesus wrote, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in the grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’ doesn’t make any sense.”

I don’t just believe in the holy catholic church, I dream of a holy catholic world.

I think Old Turtle has something to teach us as well. Do you know that book, by Douglas Wood? Old Turtle, he’s the turtle that’s been around forever. In the book Old Turtle and the Broken Truth, the earth & all its creatures are suffering, for the people will not share their Truth, which gives them happiness & power, with those who are different from them. The truth is on a rock, and it says, “You are loved.” Then one brave Little Girl seeks the wisdom of the ancient Old Turtle. Old Turtle shows the girl that this truth is not whole. He gives the girl the missing part of the Truth, the other part of the rock, and she returns with it to her people. Then the pieces are brought together, and the broken Truth is made whole at last. One part says, “You are loved.” And the other part says, “And so are they.”

In Jesus’ name, amen.