A Friendly Community A Communion Of Friends
John 15: 12-17
September 13, 1992
“Come to church and bring a friend, you’ll both be happier for it.” We used to say that in the 60’s. The implications were that coming to church would make a difference in your life. You could find ads like that on the Saturday church page in hundreds of newspapers around the country.
Over the years, churches have modified the statement slightly. We’re more in touch with the loneliness of people. In our advertising, we try to come to grips with one of the essential yearnings. We see many people as alienated, longing to be listened to, looking for deeper relationships. And so now we say: “Come to church and find a friend, Does this sound like Religious Huckstering?? Should I be in a consumer society? We’re a nation of shoppers. We shop for churches the same way we shop for cars or shoes. Does it fit? What’s the bottom line? Will it meet my needs? What’s the quality factor? And let me push the analysis one step further. In this day and age, with our shopping orientation and the number of religious options, it takes a lot of advertising to bring people to church. And many people will come to a parish church if they hear it’s a place to find friends and to be happy in their worship experience.
“Come to church and find a friend”. Does that sound superficial? Does it give you some pause? it does for me theologically. It suggests that the consumer of religion operates within a buyer’s market; that God is on the defensive, that truth must meet us on our own terms; that feeling good is more important than pleasing God. We know in our hearts this isn’t so, but in a consumer society, we often start with how we feel and listen to the pitch before thinking through the implications. This summer, while on vacation, rather than fight the trend, I decided to do some research. I imagined myself to be a typical shopper for a religious home, and I went to several churches. The first church was a disaster. Here was a place that made it crystal clear who was in and who was out. Walking into the church, the usher, without a smile or a good morning, handed us a bulletin. That seemed to be the end of his job, except for collecting our money. The service itself was confusing, with a lot of local customs and changes that were never explained. After worship concluded, one could leave by a side door and be greeted or one could join a line in which no one talked to the persons in front or back, and at the end say good morning to a young curate. No coffee hour. The Rector had a class, but it was in a room that we couldn’t find. I could go on, but we all know of places like this – unfriendly communities where God’s frozen people hang out. The ad for this place ought to be, “bring a friend with you because you weren’t going to find one there.
Thank God we at St. Philip’s are not like those parishioners, or are we??
The next week, I went to a different church. A church that went out of its way to make us feel welcome. The ushers escorted us to a seat and introduced us to some members who were sitting by us. There were designated greeters who brought us to the coffee hour. Everybody seemed smiling and happy, and tried to recruit us to do all sorts of things. There were many opportunities posted around the parish hall for social and recreational groups. It was evident that the community was growing, successful, and friendly. There were even people who said, “Come back next week”. This was a friendly community that emphasized “signing us up as members”. I wanted to take note and bring it back to Tucson.
And yet-and yet-as I thought about our Gospel, I began to wonder if this is what Jesus meant when he said “No longer do I call you servants, but I have called you friends.” Jesus, speaking to his disciples, was not advocating a friendly community. He was echoing them to become “a communion of friends”,
Don’t misunderstand me, a friendly community can be very useful. It’s attractive (that is, it attracts people), but never confuse it with a communion of friends.
I noticed this summer that the largest mall in the world was opened in Minnesota. What interested me more than the size was what the developer said about friendliness. He was planning on having greeters trained by Disneyland and Epcot people to make this mall the friendliest (and easiest to shop) place in the world”. Friendliness speaks to shoppers. Friendship speaks to our inner longings and basic yearnings.
Jesus calls each of us to be a friend. But perhaps friendship is dead in our consumer society. Perhaps all we can have is mutual trade agreements with each other, where we buy each other’s products as a substitute for sharing each other’s lives.
But remember, remember Jesus says: ” I have called you as friends”. To be a disciple of Jesus is to be a friend, to be intimate, to share one’s life, one’s hopes, one’s dreams, one’s failures as well as one’s successes, to be open to another. This is the essence of real friendship.
George Fox and his colleagues in the church understood this better than most when they started the Quaker movement. “You are my friends”, Jesus said. And so George Fox started the Religious Society of Friends. A group of Christians who found they could not be friends of Jesus without also being friends of each other. The Society of Friends were small groups that met regularly together without the benefit of church hierarchies (clergy) who shared life and were led by the Holy Spirit.
Good people, that’s what it’s all about. That’s what Jesus calls us to be -Friends, no more, no less. That’s what St. Philip’s is all about: to make a community out of strangers. To be a place where we become a “communion of friends”.
The other night, someone asked me why we are so enthusiastic about cell groups and why I keep urging people to become a part of some cell groups. It’s because cell groups by definition, have as their primary task to become a communion of friends.
This summer, a close relative of one of the members of a cell group died. Instead of calling for the professional clergy, this person called her cell group leader. And the cell members began to minister to this woman in her grief. Several days later, I was invited to be a part of the cell group meeting. We had a service for the deceased person, and it was a special moment of Grace, of friendship, of responding to God’s call. It was a time of closeness without suffocation, of intimacy without impingement…..of real friendship.
On this welcome back, when we greet new members of the staff, when we meet old and new companions (which means friends who break bread together), the word of God that comes to us is: ” I will call you friends.” Let us no longer be strangers, but let us become truly friends.
Amen