SCRIPTURE LESSON: Romans 16:9-21

“Let love be genuine,” Paul’s counsel to the church in Rome begins. “Do not lag in zeal.” “Contribute to the needs of the saints.” “Do not claim to be wiser than you are.” “Do not repay anyone evil for evil.”

Compared to other passages, Paul’s writing this morning is a bit of a hodgepodge. It’s almost as if he was rushing madly, hurrying to provide spiritual support to a community just learning how to embody Jesus’ teachings.

Remember, these were people who really didn’t have reason to be in relationship with each other. They were a mosaic, an amalgam, some Gentiles, some Christian Jews, some who had gone to Jerusalem on pilgrimage and some who had not, some who were spiritually mature, some who were less so, some who easily grasped Jesus’ message of love and some so ravenous for it that they simply couldn’t not be part of this gathered community.

In other words, the people to whom Paul was writing were like every church that ever was, is, or will be.

Because every church is made up of a diverse assortment of people, every church is a full-on potluck, and every church is a wild collection of different outlooks, influences, and inclinations.

Even ours. Even Community Spirit.

If all someone who didn’t yet know us did was thumb through our tenth-anniversary memory book, this would be obvious.

Your treasured memories, your hopes, and your prayers for CSC were all wonderfully different; they were a marvelous buffet, a veritable smorgasbord, a varied feast. Even as we may be similar in a number of ways, we most certainly are not identical. Not at all.

When we say, “No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here,” what we mean is this:

We may look and dress somewhat alike, but we all come with our unique perspectives, needs, and life experiences. We welcome and celebrate each person’s differences, even when these differences have the potential to challenge and maybe even change us.

While being a place of true welcome and wholehearted affirmation is our earnest aim, we can’t accomplish this alone; it’s the Spirit at work among us who makes this vision a reality. All we do is follow her lead. And when we falter, as every church inevitably does, we do what we can to mend fabric and fences so that we can continue on as God intends.

Any number of times over the years, I’ve been on the receiving end of pleas for help from pastors whose congregations have lost their way, people who somehow forgot that theirs was a community gathered in love and, because of this, had fallen into some unskillful behaviors.

The help these pastors look for in seasons like this often centers around finding relational covenants to show their congregations so that they, too, might be led to consider and then articulate how they intend to live together in love.

Rather than wait for something hurtful or concerning to occur and then try to craft a relational covenant, the wonderful wisdom at work within those who first gathered as Community Spirit was to anticipate this need.

When times are tense or tumultuous, it’s incredibly difficult to forge a covenant like ours. Fresh memories and clumsy habits easily become prisons we can’t quite break out of, whether our challenge is in the church, our homes, or our workplaces.

Nine years ago, this congregation affirmed our Relational Covenant. We did this not because we weren’t a healthy community but because we already were. Consciously committing ourselves to the practices and priorities that could make a church like ours an even safer place to belong was important to us as people gathered in–and gathered for—love.

If you took time to read our Relational Covenant this week, you may have noticed that the first thing on our hearts and minds was creating a congregational culture where our involvement within and beyond the church would be genuine and life-giving.

I suspect this was foremost on our minds because many of us had been part of churches where “Someone has to… someone needs to… if you don’t, no one will…” was an unspoken, manipulative message.

Just this week, I had a conversation with someone who left her church precisely for this reason. After three decades of active involvement, she found herself feeling increasingly resentful and drained; participating in the life of her church had slowly become a chore, not a source of soulful satisfaction.

Nine years ago, almost to the day, we affirmed this our first commitment: “We covenant to work together to build the common good by sharing our time, talent, and treasure in ways that reflect our earnest, heartfelt desire to contribute to the life of the church both within and beyond its walls.”

Is this still true? Is this still our deep longing? If so, in what concrete ways are we nurturing and celebrating this approach to congregational life?

Is it still true that, at root, we want everyone to be involved in ways that are juicy and Spirit-filled rather than dry and strangely God-less?

If not, how do we readjust our expectations for ourselves and one another? If this commitment has lost its tread, how can we shift how we are church together so that no one is being asked to take on commitments and responsibilities that aren’t good spiritual fits?

Our Relational Covenant’s first commitment centers around ensuring that each person’s participation in the life in the church brings joy and meaning.

Our second commitment similarly honors each member’s particularity. It reads, “We covenant to embrace and celebrate the individuality within our congregation and the wider community by providing opportunities to share diverse experiences and ideas in a safe place.”

Is this still true for us? I would hope so. As I often tell those beyond our congregation, “What binds us together are not shared faith claims so much as a deep desire to be in relationship with one another.”

To my mind, the highest compliment we can receive as a congregation is when someone of no faith, little faith, or differing faith chooses to journey alongside us. We are doing something incredibly right whenever this happens.

The first two commitments in our Relational Covenant honor and affirm the individual. The second two speak to how we intend to be in an active relationship with one another.

To my mind, this is where the rubber meets the road, not just for us but for every congregation.

“We covenant to practice openness, honesty, and respect in our communications by listening so as to understand; by taking responsibility for our own thoughts, feelings, and needs (even as they may differ from others); by taking responsibility for communicating in caring, respectful ways; and, recognizing the sacred nature of community, by choosing to refrain from gossip or verbal speculation about the thoughts, feelings, and needs of others.”

This commitment is not one we nod our heads in agreement to once every year or so. Ultimately, this is a commitment to a practice, one hour, one day at a time, one week, one season at a time.

It’s a commitment to put into practice what the soulful Catholic psychotherapist David Richo calls “being an adult in relationships.” It’s a commitment to recognizing that our words and ways, intentional or not, sometimes have an unfortunate impact on others and then taking responsibility when this happens.

When Cindy LaJoy was with us, she often encouraged us to see that church is the place where we can be helped to learn what our families didn’t teach us. Not all of us grew up in homes that were safe to share what we were feeling.

Not all of us learned how to listen without becoming defensive, how to lovingly confront someone when they hurt us in some way, or how to make appropriate amends when we did or said something unkind, unfair, or unloving.

Our shared life is not therapy. But it can be therapeutic. In a healthy, safe church, our common life brings hope and healing to anyone still learning the fine art of being fully human in relationships, which, as far as I can tell, is all of us.

How are we helping each other own being hurt, or even harmed, in community?

It’s when we don’t feel safe that we are inclined to gossip, I think. Talking about those who are not present or speculating on their motives is how we discharge unsettled feelings. These are very human choices, and yet they inevitably keep our wounds open and our congregational relationships compromised.

Years ago, I happened upon a hushed conversation in the church kitchen one Sunday after worship. Everyone agreed that a certain someone was entirely exasperating, that she had yet again been incredibly insensitive and unkind.

“Are you going to speak to her about this,” I asked innocently.

“Oh no. That’s just how she is,” her longtime friend explained.

“Then you must not love her very much,” I said before I even knew what I was saying.

“By staying silent, by speaking only to each other about her, you’re cheating her of the opportunity to grow and change. What you’re really saying when you say ‘she’s just that way’ is that she’s beyond help. Not even Jesus said that about people.”

Most churches believe themselves to be loving. They mean to be loving, that is. What they frequently are is polite. But that’s not our God-given call; that’s not our spiritual challenge. The familiar hymn has us sing, “They will know we are Christians by our love,” not “they will know we are Christians cuz we’re outwardly nice.”

Living into the third section of our relational covenant will no doubt stir up feelings of discomfort from time to time. The good news here is that this discomfort, when we honor it, helps us grow in love, trust, and mutual respect—mainstays of true Christian community.

Our fourth and final commitment centers on our expectations for one another as we journey together as a congregation.

“We covenant to participate actively and responsibly in the decision-making and the work of the congregation by seeking clarity rather than drawing conclusions; speaking directly with those with whom we disagree; seeking peaceful and constructive resolution of differences; and supporting decisions made by the congregation even when our own desires might be otherwise.”

Our commitment doesn’t say this explicitly, but what helps us create a community open to differing ideas about how to move forward is consciously striving to be about the work of discernment, that is, seeking God’s will and not simply our own.

Even as we discuss and debate, even as we hold space for differing ideas and avenues, we are most faithful when we are listening to those around us with one ear and to the Spirit with the other.

At the very bottom of our Relational Covenant, in italics, is a reminder that ours is a living document. That is, it’s something we might wish to adapt along the way as experience and insight inspire.

But it’s not only our covenant that is a living document. We ourselves are the document.

We are the ones who, by our practices and priorities, by the way we live and love, by the way we learn from our mistakes and missteps, bring our commitments to life. Just as Jesus was the Word made Flesh, it is by our flesh that these words mean what they mean and offer what they do.

And so, with this in mind, I want to shift our focus and invite us into a renewal of commitment to be the covenant we set forth in writing nine years ago.

In this way, I will read each section of the covenant again, giving you a moment of silence to let our words sink in, and then I will ask if you are willing to step out in faith to be and become the pledges we make today.

Let us together renew our covenant promises:

“We, of Community Spirit Church (United Church of Christ), make an intentional choice to embrace this covenant as an essential part of our faith journey.” (Pause)

Is this the choice you are making today and every day? If so, say, “Yes, with God’s help.”

“We covenant to work together to build the common good by sharing of our time, talent, and treasure in ways that reflect our earnest, heartfelt desire to contribute to the life of the church, both within and beyond its walls.” (Pause)

Is this your covenant promise today and every day? If so, say, “Yes, with God’s help.”

“We covenant to embrace and celebrate the individuality within our congregation and the wider community by providing opportunities to share diverse experiences and ideas in a safe place. (Pause)

Is this your covenant promise today and every day? If so, say, “Yes, with God’s help.”

“We covenant to practice openness, honesty, and respect in our communications by listening so as to understand; taking responsibility for our own thoughts, feelings, and needs; communicating in caring, respectful ways; and recognizing the sacred nature of community, choosing to refrain from gossip or verbal speculation about the thoughts, feelings, and needs of others. (Pause)

Is this your covenant promise today and every day? If so, say, “Yes, with God’s help.”

And finally, “We covenant to participate actively and responsibly in decision-making and the work of the congregation by seeking clarity rather than drawing conclusions; speaking directly with those with whom we disagree; seeking peaceful and constructive resolution of differences; and supporting decisions made by the congregation, even when our own desires might be otherwise.” (Pause)

Is this your covenant promise today and every day? If so, say, “Yes, with God’s help.”

Congratulations, friends! We have duly covenanted to make choices that build up this expression of the body of Christ, choices that are living expressions of our faith, ones that may not always be easy but are always essential.

Let us now ask God’s blessing upon us:

Gracious and Loving God, we thank you for the wisdom at work in this congregation so early in our life together that inspired us to craft and then commit ourselves to this Relational Covenant.

Because we are human, bless us as we seek to live into our promises this day. Because we are yours, help our “yeses” be “yes” and our “nos” be “no.” Because we are human and sometimes fall short, help us to ask for or extend forgiveness. Because we are human and are sometimes forgetful, remind us again and again of our promises, and by your Spirit, enable us to embody them as fully as we are able.

All these things we pray, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Author’s Note

This is a reworking of a story from the sermon Why Did You Doubt, found in Barbara Brown Taylor’s 1997 Bread of Angels.