Three Essentials for the Church (Jan 26)

Readings, Nehemiah 8:1-12 and 1 Cor 12:12-26
Image, William H. Johnson, Harlem Street with Church, ca. 1939-1940, 

If you think of your car, there’s probably three essential things you want it to do: steer, accelerate, and brake. Sure, it’s nice if it does other things, but if you have those three you’re a long way toward ‘car.’ Same with a fridge, you want it to open, close, and stay cold. Other fancy add-ons might be appreciated, but if it does those three, you have what can fairly be described as a fridge. Phones are trickier, because you want it to make calls and send messages, but the most important third thing is open to debate… from ads it would seem the camera, from my experience, maps.
When we come to the church, the body of Christ, I’m sure there’s a lot of ways you might parse the essential three things. The reformers often trimmed the definition of the church to the place where the word was rightly proclaimed and the sacraments rightly administered… so that’s two, maybe you add something about works of mercy. But thinking to yourself, if there were only three essential things the church could do, what would you want them to be? Of course, like air conditioning in your car, we all want the extras… but as an exercise (because I promise I’m not going to hold you to anything or use this as some mandate to rip down walls or rearrange furniture) what three things do you think are essential?
I’m going to offer three things drawn from our readings today. I’m not claiming they are set in stone, but you can make a fair argument for them. The three are: to rejoice with those who rejoice (and weep with those who weep), to honour the “inferior” members of the body, and to gather to hear the good news of God’s promises proclaimed and interpreted. 
The passage in Nehemiah recounts the experience of those who have returned from the Babylonian exile. Having begun to rebuild the city, they gather to hear proclaimed the story of God’s creation, covenant, and care and to have it interpreted in their midst. So overwhelmed are they by the beauty of what they hear, how this message of their worth and God’s love defies the experience of ruinous exile and occupation, that the people weep. But weep not, they are told, for this is a holy and joyful day – instead they are charged to rejoice: eat, drink and send portions for those who have nothing prepared. 
Like Kookaburra song waking the day, the proclamation and interpretation of God’s word is felt deeply and viscerally by those whose souls have waited for morning. Like the sound of running waters to a weary traveller, the sound of the torah poured out upon those who have suffered and yearned, leads to great rejoicing. But vitally, if the rejoicing is to mean anything it cannot be confined only to those with means to rejoice. Portions must be sent, tables extended, because if the people of God suffered exile together then they shall celebrate their return together. If the church is to be the body of Christ, a people who feel and respond to God’s word, we cannot go about like emotional islands. The body is one: the foot ought not tap a happy tune while the hand writhes in a vice. As Paul writes, If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honoured, all rejoice together with it. This trait can set the church in contradiction to so much else, the willingness to change pace, to change tact, and move together. To be attentive and flexible enough to share burdens and joys together – to allow ourselves to be presumed upon by each other. We share in lows and highs together to make the former more bearable, and the latter more wondrous. 
But there is an additional emphasis. Both the Nehemiah reading and Paul’s letter stress the responsibility the body has to the weaker members, to those who do not have portions prepared, to those who in another kind of group or the wider society might be discarded or ignored as having little to offer. Paul writes, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honourable we clothe with greater honour, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect. God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honour to the inferior member. We are not solely a people who share burdens and joys, but take efforts to ensure that the seemingly weaker members are honoured, respected, and entrusted with wisdom and responsibility. Those who in other places might be presumed too old, disabled, uneducated, or accented to meaningfully contribute to and shape the body are not only not to be disregarded, but we let the pendulum swing the other way and give them greater honour and respect. For in this we recognise the words of Christ who called the poor blessed, who entrusted the witness of the resurrection to the women, who identified himself with the imprisoned, the naked, the hungry, and the stranger.
The church can and ought to be known by a lot of things. But if there be only three could it not be a people who in yearning and hope gather together to hear the word proclaimed, who share one another’s burdens and joys, and who give honour and respect to those the world might treat as weak and dispensable. If we can do this, we will not only bring glory to God (by whose word we are made), but witness to Christ (whose body we are).
And if we can do this, we will also offer our neighbours something dazzling. A community in which you are valued, a movement in which you find meaning, a story in which you find hope. Value, meaning, and hope might be found in various places, but too often they are in short supply. We’ve seen, time and again, the vulnerable of our society, its so-called weaker or less honourable members, dismissed, denigrated, hidden from view, and asked to keep quiet. The elderly, the young, the migrant, the unemployed, the renter, the disabled, the Indigenous, the unhoused, the mentally ill, the victimised are regularly mistreated, suspected, exploited, disrespected, patronised, and minimised by our world which seems determined to pour out its honour on those already thought honourable, respect on those already deemed respectable, bestow responsibility on those appearing responsible. Hands and feet told there is no need for them, asked to simply be grateful for not being cut off entirely. Pushed further into the quiet of society’s hidden corners. Denied the opportunity to define and pursue lives of value, meaning, and hope.  
When we take seriously our calling as the body of Christ we offer a vibrant alternative to those who have experienced this kind of dismissal, an alternative for those of dashed hopes, muffled voices, and lone journeys. When we grab hold of these three markers of our churchly life together, allowing the Spirit’s gifts to flow freely amongst us, tending to one another in times of lamentation and jubilation, ensuring that those easily missed are highly prized, and opening our hearts to the good news of God’s love and our worth, then we shall see, find, and share value, meaning, and hope – three essentials to an abundant life.