"Longing to Be Known"
A Sunday Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Thomas C. Leinbach
April 13, 2008 - Harwich, Massachusetts
Preaching Text: "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." (John 10:10)
A study taken in 2006 reveals statistically something we probably already have sensed: that Americans are "far more socially isolated" than we were in 1985. Twenty-five percent of Americans today report that they have no one with whom to discuss their personal problems, more than double that of 1985. The number of people who said they had a neighbor as a confidant dropped by more than half, from 19 percent to 8 percent.
Various other studies suggest that this isolation can be a risk factor as significant as smoking in terms of negatively affecting physical health. Emotional health also depends on adequate emotional support, especially in times of trouble and stress.
This is doubly troubling when we consider just how much radical individualism has overtaken American culture since the 1960's. That strong sense of community found in the WWII generation, a generation known, appropriately, as the "joiners," has largely been lost. Today we live in a balkanized world, associating only with those who fit into our little group and who share our little worldview.
Those outside our group remain largely foreign to us. And because we have so little to do with them, we tend not to know much about them. Misunderstandings are inevitable, as is caricature, intolerance and suspicion.
Indeed, one of the unintended consequences of our contemporary celebration of "diversity" and "multiculturalism" may be that both tend to create separate group identities rather than facilitating and strengthening a more unified sense of the whole.
When I was growing up, I remember the civil rights movement and its courageous fight against America's deepest sin, racial discrimination. One important component of that fight was steadfast opposition to the "separate but equal" treatment of African-Americans, perhaps most clearly symbolized by separate drinking fountains, one labeled 'white' and the other 'negro.'
Martin Luther King, Jr. famously dreamed out loud of a world where all people would be judged by their character, not the color of their skin - a genuinely color-blind society.
But a curious thing happened on the way to that dream's fulfillment. Radical leaders such as Malcolm X fostered the notion that America was hopelessly racist, evil and corrupt. Thus he and others like him advocated separating the races, in some cases urging armed insurrection.
For many, the "Black Pride" idea held great promise. Unlike King, who placed his trust in America's founding principles and sought to effect pragmatic change within the framework of America's institutions, these radical leaders, caught up in the revolutionary spirit of the age, came to interpret King's approach as futile and naïve, despite, it must be said, its very real successes. To them change had not come fast enough. And fearing accommodation and loss of identity to what they perceived as a hopelessly corrupt white European culture, they urged separation.
Many well-meaning people ended up rejecting King's color-blind world, willfully choosing, with no small irony, a strange new "separate but equal" ethos, an ethos defined not by working together with all peoples, but by the particularities of one's own separate group identity.
In colleges and universities today it is common to see various groups demanding recognition as separate entities. I even recall a case back in divinity school where a man signed up for a class on feminism only to be voted out of the class by his all-female classmates! The reason? He was told he couldn't possibly understand the experiences of women! Of course, by banishing him from the class - I suppose you could say - they pretty much insured just that!
Too often in our contemporary world, people are labeled according to race, class and gender. "Identity politics" time and again rears its ugly head. Too often the assumption is reinforced that we have nothing in common with one another, that we are defined solely by the people and things of our own particular groupings.
I understand how people can feel that the only way they can gain a sense of belonging is by finding those like themselves. There is something to it. Only someone who has lost a loved one, for instance, knows what that is like. Finding comfort and strength with those who know best what we are going through is often a good thing.
The problem arises when we choose to cut ourselves off from others, when we choose not to ignore our common humanity and the greater common good. If we see no further than the confines of our own particular group, we will not honor Jesus who taught us, as Paul reminds us, that in Christ there is no east or west, no male or female, no Greek or Jew, no slave or free.
In a world where we often are discouraged from seeking this oneness in Christ, we miss clear opportunities to grow in the spirit. As Christ's body, we belong to Christ and one another. With such belonging is satisfied our heart's deepest and greatest desire.
This sense of belonging frees us from the confines of our narrow worlds and helps us understand the broader implications of living in the midst of an admittedly diverse and glorious creation. Differences that otherwise separate us and turn us against one another now offer a broader, deeper perspective on life.
The assumption here is not that we are all alike. We do not lose our individuality or our uniqueness. But we gain an awareness of similarities common to all, the most deep-seated of which is our common need for God.
In John's gospel intimacy is a key theme, expressed often as a father/son relationship; intimacy between Jesus and his followers; and intimacy between God and the faithful.
In today's readings, we see that intimacy portrayed as between a shepherd and the sheep. The sheep know the shepherd's voice and respond to it. The shepherd knows each sheep by name. They are not just a flock to the shepherd but individuals with whom the shepherd has a relationship.
The power of this intimacy in our personal lives is crucial. As it is, to be known, cared for, tended, protected and offered life rather than death is the essence of God's love for us.
In understanding this passage, it helps to know that Jesus purposefully is contrasting himself with other, less trustworthy religious leaders, leaders in whose care the sheep cannot depend. Right before this passage, in fact, the Pharisees have condemned Jesus' righteous healing of a blind man.
Jesus here distinguishes himself from those he calls thieves and bandits, who offer a world of fear and mistrust, as opposed to the abundance to which Jesus
calls us.
This abundant life provides good pasture born of genuine, heartfelt community, a place of safety and welcome, a place of belonging rather than isolation. It is a place where each of the various sheep is valued and loved.
The antidote to the isolation of contemporary life is Christ, the good shepherd, who offers a way beyond narrow and parochial habits toward a unifying vision born of God's infinite love, wisdom and care.
Amen.