A sermon preached by the Rev.’d Sandra Fyfe at Wolfville Baptist Church 

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

As I read the gospel for today, I can honestly say I’m glad I’m not in my hometown (or my home church, for that matter). If we continue on from the passage we just heard, we will discover that Jesus’ message was not welcome once people realized just who he was and where he had come from, which prompts him to say to those gathered in the synagogue: “A prophet is not without honour, except in his hometown.” So it’s a good day to be celebrating the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity in someone else’s church!

If nothing else the gospel is a reminder of how easy it can be to listen to a stranger, how much harder sometimes to listen to one of our own. As a stranger in your midst, I hope that means that I can be assured of your rapt attention or, at the very least, of your polite acceptance...at least for most of what I have to say.

As you know, since May I have been the rector of the Parish of Horton (or St. John’s, Wolfville). What you may not know is that I come with strong Baptist connections through my husband’s family, who worship at Yarmouth North Baptist Church. 

It has been my privilege, through them, to come to know more about Baptist worship and doctrine, to see our similarities and to note our differences. For instance, do we offer a blessing at the end of worship, or a benediction? Do we stand or sit to sing? Are the clergy referred to as pastors, ministers or priests? And, of course, of critical importance, just where do the announcements fit into the order of service? 

I’m sure - if you’re anything at all like the Anglicans - that you have an opinion on these and many other of our differences. Of course, we no doubt recognize that while our approaches may differ, these are not essential points of faith. They are really not all that important, are they? (Unless we start talking about infant baptism, that is, in which case even my most patient and tolerant Baptist friends start to squirm.)

Surely on most issues of practice and doctrine we can agree to disagree. What unites us is stronger than what divides us, right? 

Usually, I’m willing to say “yes” to that. Our faith in Christ unites us in a common story, a common mission, a common sense of purpose as Christians. However our differences on more substantial questions than that of where to offer the announcements are noted by others and they are not all as inconsequential as we might believe them to be.

A number of years ago, I was meeting with Patti and Kurt, a couple who wanted to be married in the church. They were preparing to be baptized and, I’m glad to say, were very earnest in their desire to know more about the Christian life. 

During one of our discussions, Patti asked about some of the differences in how funerals were conducted – and the theology she heard expressed at some of the funerals she had attended in the past (those weren’t her words, but that’s what she meant). Hearing the Anglican “take” on death and judgment and heaven and eternal life, Patti looked me straight in the eye and said, quite seriously: “Do you all believe in the same God?”

To someone new to the faith, the contradictions and inconsistencies just didn’t make sense. She had a right to wonder just what she was signing on to. And she’s not the only one.

Do you all believe in the same God? This is the kind of question missionaries encountered over a hundred years ago when visiting countries around the globe, seeking to bring the message of God’s love in Christ to people who had never heard it before.  These missionaries quickly discovered that their witness to this love was threatened by the very real separation between Christ’s disciples. 

“How can you make others understand the reconciliation offered in Jesus Christ if the baptized themselves ignore or fight one another? How could Christian groups who lived in mutual hostility preach one Lord, one faith and one baptism in a credible way?” (Graymoor Ecumenical & Interreligious Institute)

These questions are raised on one of the many websites outlining the background of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. They are questions which not only framed discussions over a hundred years ago, but which should also be asked of us today as we seek to bring the message of God’s love in Christ to those we encounter in our daily lives. 

These questions, or similar ones, have been around as long as the church itself – in fact, before the church as we know it even existed. There were different beliefs about God, different experiences of God, different understandings of who God was and how God was made known. 

And it’s hard to believe that they could all be right. 
Or – at the very least – that they could all be equally important. 
Surely some understandings of God, some experiences of God, some beliefs about God are superior, are they not? 

It is this experience of division and disunity that Paul bears witness to in the passage we heard a few moments ago about life in the Corinthian church. 

In that community, some Christians have experienced the Holy Spirit in highly visible ways, to the point that others who have not had these experiences start to wonder whether their faith is lacking. Paul reassures the people of Corinth that there is a diversity of gifts, services and activities within the Christian community, each of which is “activated” by the same Spirit. No one of these gifts is superior, but each is given for the common good. 

Diversity, then, is to be expected or, as one of my commentaries puts it: “We should not think of diversity as an obstacle to be overcome but as a resource to be used.” (Preaching through the Christian Year, p. 81)
 
In the passage we heard earlier, Paul expands on this message, explaining that there is one body, one church, which functions like a human body, with many parts each having a different function but all relating to and contributing to the other parts of the body and, in fact, to the working of the whole body. The parts are interdependent. They need each other. Unity, then, is not about uniformity. It is about recognizing and embracing difference. It is about honouring diversity and seeking to strengthen it.

Paul tells the Corinthian Christians something that Christians ever since have needed to be reminded of over and over again: and that is, what a powerful force the church can be in the world when we are able to function as one body working towards a common purpose. Surely we have all seen evidence of this through the overwhelming response to the earthquake in Haiti – and, in that case, we see people of all religions and no religion, working side by side to reach out with generosity to those whom we recognize as our brothers and sisters.

When we can step outside of our comfort zone, when we can put aside our doctrinal differences, among other things, amazing things can – and do – happen. I recall one in particular which I’d like to share with you. While I was training for ministry I completed a chaplaincy unit at the IWK. One of the areas I was assigned to was the ICU. A month or so into my placement, I met the family of a newborn baby, Sarah. It was clear that Sarah wouldn’t survive and once the family had begun to come to terms with that (in as much as they were able to come to terms with it), they wanted to have her baptized. 

When I inquired about their denomination, they told me they were Baptist, so I called the Baptist chaplain, who came very quickly. He explained that the Baptist church did not offer infant baptism, but that he could offer a service of dedication, which was fine with the family. 

In the midst of their conversation, Sarah’s parents kept referring to her godparents. There was a bit of confusion, which was obvious. The chaplain was most patient, explaining that you don’t really have godparents in this kind of ceremony. In their grief, they didn’t seem to hear him. 

It was very important that the baby’s “godparents” be part of this service of dedication, so they were contacted by phone (Sarah’s family lived in New Brunswick, so the “godparents” couldn’t be present). And then, after the dedication when the chaplain was offering prayers for Sarah and her family, I heard him actually pray for Sarah’s godparents by name – and yes, he used that word, “godparents.” 

I remember how profoundly affected I was by that one small act of compassion. I was so grateful for the chaplain’s willingness to step outside of his comfort zone, to leave behind the comfortable language of his own tradition and to embrace what were to him new and unfamiliar words. His actions reminded me that what mattered most was not the church’s traditions around a service of dedication. What mattered most was this child of God and her parents’ grief at having to say goodbye far too soon. 

I don’t imagine that couple remembers that the Baptist chaplain who ministered to them in that time of deep grief actually used the word “godparents.” But I bet they would have remembered if he hadn’t. I have heard these kinds of stories all too often in my ministry – omissions which lead to deep hurts. As it was, the father’s parting comment as they left that day was testimony to what can happen when we get out of the way and allow God to encounter people through us, when we allow ourselves to become instruments of his grace and healing. He said: “I have never experienced so much love in a hospital before.” 

In his book Beyond Duty: a passion for Christ, a heart for mission, Tim Dearborn said: 
“The church of God does not have a mission in the world. The God of mission has a church in the world.”

Isn’t that an interesting flip? The church of God does not have a mission in the world. The God of mission has a church in the world. Or, as Paul says, “you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.”

We are God’s church in the world, the body of Christ in the world, whether we live in Wolfville or in Haiti, whether we are Baptist or Anglican or something in between or something quite different altogether, and regardless of our economic status, our gender or our country of origin, among other things.

As we end this Week of Prayer for Christian unity, may we recognize the great gift we have been given in one another. May we recognize how God works through us and our churches to bring a message of love and hope to a hurting world. May this week be a reminder of the diversity that is ours as we seek together to be the Body of Christ in the world, God’s church in the world, each playing a role in something greater than we could ever imagine, honouring our uniqueness, yet celebrating our diversity, united in God’s love in Christ which equips and empowers us to be agents of grace and healing. 

And so, as we go forth from this place, I pray this blessing on us all, that we may be God’s church in the world, the body of Christ in the world: 
May the Christ who walks on wounded feet, walk with us along the road. May the Christ who serves with wounded hands, open our hands to serve. May the Christ who loves with a wounded heart, open our hearts to love. May we see the face of Christ in everyone we meet, and may everyone we meet see the face of Christ in us, now and always. Amen.