Ephesians 2:11-22
David Clickner was in the news last week. Maybe you read about him in the paper. Mr. Clickner made headlines because he is building a fence.
It seems that David Clickner has purchased an island in one of the rivers at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. For years, the island has been abandoned and so recreational boaters pretty much claimed and used it as if it were public property. They would pull their boats up to the island’s beach, hold cookouts on the sand, hike across the property, and sometimes leave litter and the remnants of a rowdy party.
Now, David Clickner has purchased the island, and he wants to build a house there. But, first, he has to convince those who think the island is a public park that it is really private property. “No trespassing” signs didn’t work to convey that message. So the next step was to build a fence along the shoreline. A big, imposing fence, with great wood pilings and a strong chain draped between them.
The boaters aren’t happy. They say, “It’s like he’s trying to keep a D-Day invasion off his island.” But the police say he’s within his rights. It’s his property. He can build a fence if he wants to.
Fences act a barriers between people. They keep some out. They keep others in. They provide for separation. Division. In David Clickner’s case, it’s appropriate that he have a fence if he plans to make the island his home.
Another guy in the news who’s been dealing with a fence…a barrier…is a fellow by the name of Mikey Weinstein. Mr. Weinstein’s fence is not a physical one like Mr. Clickner’s. Mr. Weinstein has been facing the fence of religious division and difference. When his son went away to the Air Force Academy, he found that there was a contingent of Christian students there who harassed him and intimidated him because he was Jewish. He also found some persons there who were pressuring him in inappropriate ways to turn from his Jewish roots and follow their religion. Mikey Weinstein has responded with a lawsuit against the Defense Department. And now he is being called a “Great Satan” by some Christian ministers and has even received death threats.
The Weinsteins aren’t facing a physical fence, but a fence constructed of religious difference and discrimination that builds a barrier simply because they are Jewish.
Sometimes those religious fences lead to violence. We’ve seen that so tragically this week. The conflict between Israel and Hezbollah is hard to fathom. Jewish Israelis on one side. Islamic Hezbollah militia fighters on the other side. And as if it isn’t bad enough to see two religious based groups fighting each other, there are many, many innocent people caught in the middle. Thousands upon thousands are literally fleeing for their lives. At last count, over 500,000 people in Lebanon have had their homes destroyed…can you imagine. There you are, going about your daily life. And then, without warning, you are in a war and you and 500,000 of your neighbors are homeless. Israeli bombs hit a Christian town in Lebanon on Thursday…there are many Christians who live in that country. Hezbollah rockets killed two Islamic children in Nazareth on Thursday as well. Nazareth is primarily a Moslem city within Israel. It’s all tragic and confusing and many innocent people are suffering beyond measure.
Because of walls…fences…barriers…that grow out of strongly held religious convictions we see it other places as well. The unrest in Iraq is largely the upshot of divisions between Sunni and Shiite. Kosovo and Bosnia a few years back. Northern Ireland where Catholics and Protestants have historically been enemies. Religious violence in which people who profess different understandings of God kill each other.
Here in Ephesians we see God’s vision when it comes to religious differences. God’s vision is a vision of peace. His vision is one of a new humanity. God’s vision is one where the walls and the fences and the barriers and the hatred are torn down…and in their place is love and mutual respect and unity and the graceful spirit of Jesus Christ.
Ephesians is being written to Gentiles. People who were not of the Jewish faith. They lived at odds with the Jews. And, in the eyes of the Jews, were outsiders. Less than worthy. People who were cut off from God. There were walls, and barriers of hostility between Jew and Gentile.
Listen again to what the writer says to these non Jewish readers: “For Christ is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, (the Jewish law, with all of it’s strict requirements served as a barrier that separated Jews from non-Jews and served to exclude non-Jews from being able to belong to God’s people.) He has abolished the law and created in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace.” A little later we read, “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God…”
God’s vision is one where the barriers come down. Where all live in peace. Where the old factions and gangs and sects and militias and enemies come together to be blended into one new humanity.
I think that the place where this is supposed to happen first is in the church. Those different factions come together in Christ in the church. And then the church serves as a model…a prototype…for the world.
Paul sums up this vision for the Church in Galatians 3 where he says, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus..” The church is called to model and live out that kind of oneness as an example for the world.
Charles Wesley, the great Methodist hymn writer, summed it up in one of his many hymns: “Love, like death, hath all destroyed, rendered all distinctions void; names and sects and parties fall; thou, O Christ, art all in all!”
Jesus Christ breaks down the walls; brings the hostilities to an end; and creates one new humanity.
It’s God’s vision. It’s God’s will.
We don’t see it all that often these days. Some days we don’t see it at all. But we can still hope. And we can look for those places where we see the wall being broken and the spirit of peace peeking through. Hopefully we see this kind of unity in the church. Hopefully, from time to time, we’ll see it beyond the church. Grace triumphing over hatred. And every now and then…when we see it…when it peeks through the clouds of war…we can celebrate and we can hold on to hope.
One of the places we hear of each day in the news is the Jewish city of Haifa. It is one of the places taking hits from the Hezbollah missiles. There’s a symphony orchestra in Haifa founded by a man named Joseph Abileah. Mr. Abileah remembers an experience he had some years ago when tensions were high between the Jews and the Arabs, much like they are today. For whatever reason, he was in an Arab village when a crowd of menacing villagers gathered around him.
They became threatening, and said, “We are going to kill you." “Why?” the symphony conductor asked. “We have orders to kill you. You are Jewish. We are Arab. Our leaders have told us to kill every Jew that we see.”
Abileah knew that to resist would be futile. The crowd was hostile. He was outnumbered. He also knew that if he were to appear weak and afraid, it would encourage the crowd to overcome any second thoughts they might be having. So he engaged them in conversation. “How are you going to kill me?”
“We are going to throw you in a well.”
“Where is the well?”
“It’s over there.”
Abileah walked calmly over to the well. The people followed, determined to kill him. By the time they reached the well, the mood of the people began to change. Here, standing before them, they saw a fellow human being who was not afraid, who was not hostile, who stood before them confident, courageous, willing to face death.
They hesitated. Instead of throwing him into the well, they paused and began to ask themselves how they could avoid this murder they had been obliged to inflict, but that they no longer wanted to commit. How could they get around the orders of their leaders?
Finally, someone hit on a solution. The group decided simply to make Joseph Abileah a Moslem. If he was a fellow Moslem, they would not have to kill him.
So right there, on the spot, the crowd declared that Joseph Abileah was a Moslem, no longer under the sentence of death. And with that, he walked through the crowd and was on his way.
What if…what if…the barriers really came down. And instead of seeing each other as enemies because of this difference or that religion…what if we were to recognize that we are all brothers and sisters. We are all God’s children. We are all one humanity loved by Christ…Could we really kill each other if that were the case??? …And it is the case…
Every now and then…every now and then we catch a glimpse of the reconciliation and the peace that is the vision and will of God.
In mid-December I was at the Pentagon for one of my monthly duty days as the Reserve Chaplain there. It was the beginning of Hanukkah and the Jewish community there at the Pentagon was having a Hanukkah celebration in our chapel. Since we don’t have a Rabbi on our staff, we contract a Rabbi to come in each week and provide a Friday service for the Jewish personnel there in the Pentagon. Rabbi Bash is his name. He’s from the Arlington area and he was putting together that day’s Hanukkah service.
I helped him to get things set up. There were some special musicians there as well as a big spread of kosher food for the reception following the service.
I thought it might be interesting to sit in on the service and observe. But Rabbi Bash had other ideas. He asked me to participate in the service and offer one of the prayers. I was honored to do so and stood before those who had gathered, United Methodist Minister, Army Chaplain, wearing a Yarmulke and offered a Hanukkah prayer. It was an honor…and it was very humbling and holy.
When the service was over, it was about 1:30 in the afternoon. The worshippers and I adjourned across the hall to feast on the kosher food that had been provided.
Now military chapels are used by all denominations and religions. Our chapel was scheduled for a Friday afternoon Islamic service at 2:00 as Friday is the Moslem Holy Day.
Sometime around 1:40 or so, the Islamic folks began to arrive for their service. The Jewish folks were just digging into their feast across the hall from the chapel…and somewhere, somehow, the invitation went out. I don’t know who offered it. I don’t think it was the Rabbi…but maybe it was. However, I think it was more of a spontaneous group invitation…”Come and join us. We are having our Hanukkah feast. There’s plenty of food. Come and eat.”
And they did. The Islamic folks came and gathered at the table and joined in the feast.
It was a holy moment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it in my life.
There we were a Methodist preacher, a Jewish Rabbi, a group of observant Jews, and a congregation of faithful Moslems…gathered at table…in the Pentagon of all places…breaking bread and having fellowship…and being God’s children together.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see that kind of a gathering in the church or a synagogue or a mosque???
I told someone of this experience and she said, “There is the Kingdom of God…”
Sometimes…sometimes…we catch a glimpse of God’s vision becoming a reality in our midst. Those are moments of grace…moments we can celebrate. Those are the moments that give us hope.
“For he is our peace…he has broken down the dividing wall, that is the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace…"