When he says it, it feels both enraging and endearing. When he pronounces it, it sounds like irritation, but it also sounds like invitation. It is both attracting and detracting, both including and excluding.
I am referring to those moments in the old TV show, when Felix Unger, the neat freak half of the odd couple, speaks to his housemate: "Oscar, Oscar, Oscar." It doesn’t matter what the dispute is about. It always feels like Felix is very upset, but at the same time tremendously concerned. It sounds as though Felix is profoundly disgusted, but at the same time incredibly bonded. All he has to do to communicate all of that is to pronounce the other man’s name three times in a certain way: "Oscar, Oscar, Oscar."
You likely know the story of the odd couple. Two men, of radically different temperaments, totally incompatible habits, forced to live together because each has gone through a divorce and has no other place to go. One half of the odd couple, Felix Unger, is obsessively neat, compulsively clean, organized to the ultimate. The other half, Oscar Madison, is totally sloppy, strews his bedroom with dirty clothes and empty pizza boxes, and blunders through life with utter abandon.
The odd couple. Common sense will tell you that these two could never get along. And common sense is right. They do fight about everything. But they love each other deeply. They are wonderfully connected.
Felix and Oscar are an image of the human condition. They tell us how deeply divided we are, but they also make us think there is some way in which all the funny fragments of humanity might be able to come together. They make us wonder if there is some way we could all get to be friends, and better than friends, brothers and sisters, instead of strangers.
The world of the New Testament had its share of odd couples too. People were seriously divided. In the infant Christian movement, something was happening that just defied logic, and went against everything in human history. In this early Christian church, all of a sudden, without warning, people of widely differing kinds were coming together and were finding common ground. People who would normally not even deal with each other, much less get involved with each other, were naming each other brothers and sisters. An incredible thing! What was that all about and how did it happen?
I
First, let me tell you how it didn’t happen. It did not happen just because somebody thought it would be nice for people to get together. It did not happen just because it was Brotherhood Week and time to be nice to your neighbor. The problem is greater than that. It cannot be solved just by deciding that we ought to try harder to get along with each other.
The Apostle Paul, in the Ephesian letter, begins by acknowledging the depth of the differences between Jews and Gentiles. Surely one of the deepest and bitterest divisions in human history, and not something which could have been cured by sitting around the negotiating table or pretending that the differences were not real.
Listen to his description, and you can get a feel for how strong the differences between Jews and Gentiles were. Let’s find out how utterly improbable it was for Jews and Gentiles to be together.
So then, remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called "the uncircumcision" by those who are called "the circumcision"-- a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands-- remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.
Look at everything implied in this short statement. There was a racial difference, and that cannot be erased by human activity. When I went to Baltimore a couple of weeks ago to meet somebody I had not seen for thirty years, I wondered if I would recognize him, but he said, on the phone, "Well, I’m still black." You cannot change race.
There was not only a racial difference, but there was also a religious difference. Different traditions, different beliefs. The Gentiles had come from pagan faith or no faith; the Jews had come from the historic faith of Israel. Different and irreconcilable.
Different race, different religious traditions, different histories. And even a different psychology, a different emotional history. I mean, can you really hear the utter abandonment in these words? "You were aliens, strangers, having no hope, and without God in the world." I don’t know how much more graphic you could be to describe the things that separate one people from another.
And compounding it all, there is the way it is described. The language that puts people at a distance. Get the feel of it: "You were uncircumcised, you were aliens. You are strangers. Foreigners, outsiders." Ouch! That hurts. That feels horrible. That is a lot like using the "N" word. The very shading of the words hurts.
So here’s the point. Human divisions go very deep. No merely human action is going to overcome them. Just pretending that they aren’t there is not going to solve the problem. Human disconnectedness is far, far deeper than we want to think. To the plaintive question raised by the Rodney King incident, "Can’t we all just get along?", I have to answer, "No, we can’t.” No, we cannot all just get along. Not without help. Not without intervention. The human condition called sin is too deep. We need help if we are not to be strangers to one another.
II
The Bible shows us that that help comes from Jesus Christ. In Jesus Christ and in His cross there is the way that dividing walls are destroyed. In the cross something decisive has happened! Something without parallel has occurred! Something unique. Because of sin, Christ has died. And because Christ has died, sin is overcome. Division is overcome. Hostility is overcome. Differences are not erased, but they are overcome.
After Paul has reminded us that once we were strangers, aliens, hopeless, and alone, after that these two simple but extraordinary words: "But now” Like a mighty trumpet sound, like a thunderous drum roll: "But now"! Things have changed! A new thing has happened!
"But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he 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, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace,"
Oh, to have the ability to say in a fresh way what the cross means! Oh, to be able to tell you anew how and why the death of Christ is such good news!
There was a young man who had become deeply estranged from his father. The father had made a real mess of it He had been unfaithful to his wife, the young man’s mother. He had abandoned her and had neglected his children. It had been a very painful business, and ’the young man had grown up resenting his father’s behavior and missing his father’s attentions.
But one day the father contacted the son, by now grown and married and with his own children. He said that he would be in town and wanted to come for a visit. Reluctantly the son agreed, and made arrangements to pick the older man up at the airport and bring him home for a visit. The ride from airport to home was bathed in ice-cold silence. Neither of them could think of anything to say to break down the wall of hostility.
But when they got to the son’s house, and the garage door opened for them to go inside, there in that garage was a go-cart. A homemade soapbox race-car, which the younger man had made for his own little boy. When the father saw that go- cart, it stopped him in his tracks. He remembered how, years before, before sin had taken over his life, he too had spent time and love building a go-cart for his son, this young man who now resented him. He remembered how once there had been a bond of love, crafted by the gifts of time and attention. He recalled how once there had been the power of teamwork, just being together, spending time together in something constructive. And now, there was none of that. None of that. Only hostility and distance and division, caused by his sin. The man stood rooted in his tracks, tears streaming down his face, his whole body shaking with sobs and cries too deep for utterance. Weeping over a go-cart, no, weeping for a lost relationship, chastened by the memories. For, you see, it wasn’t just a go-cart. That pile of wood and wheels was a symbol, a reminder of a father’s lost love and a son’s wistful longings, all destroyed by sin.
Friends, the cross of Jesus Christ is something like that. We are reminded by the cross. We are taught by the cross. It tells of one whose loving heart has reached out to us and has paid whatever price it takes to embrace us. It tells of the infinite patience of our God, who is wounded deeply by our sin, but who still wants to claim us and embrace us. No one can say it better than Paul in the Roman letter, "We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."
Peace with God, and this brings peace with one another. To know Christ and to accept His love means that we receive peace with one another. "But now .. once strangers, but now .. you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ, for He is our peace .. and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us."
The way in which differing people get together is by seeing that Christ died for all of us. Peace between differing people does not come about because of human efforts, since sin gets in the way. It comes about when we see and accept what Christ has done in the cross. People do not cease to be strangers and aliens, just because we decide to be nice to them. They cease to be strangers and aliens, because God in Jesus Christ has reached out and brought these odd couples together, making one new humanity.
III
Now that’s what church is all about. That’s what church is. Church is the new humanity, where the old differences are reconciled, old hostilities are converted into peace, old walls are broken down. The conclusion of the whole matter is given in the climactic verses of this passage:
“So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God."
No longer strangers and aliens, but citizens with the saints and members of the household of God. I want to conclude today by asking whether we, as a part of the household of God, are still keeping some people as strangers? I want to raise with you this issue: if Jesus Christ has died for all, and has become our peace, are we making good on that goal? Or have we, despite the work of Christ, conspired to keep some others as strangers? Who are our strangers?
With apologies to Robert Browning: how do we differ? Let us count the ways!
Obviously, there are different racial groups represented in our church. We are mostly African-American, with some Caucasian, and a number of people of mixed race. Talking about that has been done to death; been there, done that. Except that we are not nearly as diverse as we could be. We are not nearly as multi-cultural as this community is. Is it possible that despite our history and our rhetoric, we still keep some folks at arm’s length, we still make some people into strangers? Race is still a dividing factor in America, in the churches, maybe in our church.
Other things keep us strangers to one another. Generational differences. Age differences make us strangers to one another. Kids intimidate older people. Oh, they don’t intend to, but when a person of a certain age sees somebody with his pants slung down to here and listens to language that sounds a little like English, but isn’t, and playing music that seems to consist of a never-ending series of bangs and yells, well, that’s intimidating. But I’ll let you in on a dirty little secret. It goes the other way too. Some of our youth are intimidated by the adults. Some of our youth see adults as hostile, demanding, legalistic, and unwelcoming. So age makes for strangers.
Who else would be among our strangers? People whose personalities are different. People whose demeanor does not easily allow them to get outside themselves and reach out to others. We are a church full of quiet, introverted people. It is work, hard work, for us to get outside of ourselves and embrace others. Some of us will come here, sit on these pews, right next to someone whose name we don’t even know, and just stare straight ahead all morning long, because we honestly don’t know how to get up the energy to reach out. We have to do better than that! I know what that’s all about. I too am one of those quiet, self-contained people. Did you see that cartoon of a college classroom, in which there was no live teachers just a videotape player up on the wall? And then out there, in the classroom, on the chairs, no people, just twenty or thirty tape recorders, all taping the taped lecture! Now that’s the ideal classroom for introverted people, and that might even be what some of would go for as worship, because it would keep us from intersecting with people. That’s us! Introverts, yes, we cannot help that. But no longer strangers, just because we have different personality types.
I ask again, who are our strangers? Where do we need to grow in order to break down the dividing walls? I’ve mentioned racial identity, I’ve mentioned age, I’ve spoken of personality types. Who else? Who else are our strangers?
I think of people who have radically different visions of what the church should be about. Some think we ought to pass out tracts and go heavy on personal witnessing. Others think we need to create programs that serve human needs. Guess what? Both of you are right. We need to do all of that, but sometimes the witnessing people get bent out of shape by the ministering people, and vice versa. Your stranger may be somebody whose vision of church is different from yours. Might be somebody who wants us to sing the great classical hymns and anthems, and you think that’s weird. Might be somebody who wants us to rock around the Gospel clock, and you think that’s nasty. Guess what? Both of you are wrong! We need each other! But are we making strangers of those who have a differing vision of church?
Who are our strangers? Not just race and age and personality. Not just theology. Maybe, most of all, the folks who just don’t have their lives together. Maybe, most of all, the people out there in this community who are distressed, broken, going nowhere. And I have to wonder, is the silent message our church sends one which says, "You can not be one of us until you have a job, dress middle-class, are not in trouble with the law, and have no nasty habits."? Is it possible that we have told much of this community that they are not welcome until they get themselves together? If you think, just on the basis of looking around you in these pews, that there isn’t anybody in this community who is in bad shape, let the folks who work with our after-school program tell you about children who come from homes that are scarcely homes at all. If you think there isn’t anybody in this community who is in bad shape, let the leaders of our Takoma Alliance Supporting Kids tell you about youth who have moved from being at risk to becoming part of the system of violence. If you think I am exaggerating, listen to the testimony of one member of this church who tells me that when she first came here, some fifteen years ago, and spoke of a particular need of hers, someone said to her, "We don’t want any weak people in this church!" Oh no! Oh no! Even if that was said as a joke, it hurt. It stung. And it’s dangerous! Who are our strangers? Those who have not already solved their problems? God help us! I have already said this morning that human effort is never enough to help us get it all together. People need the Lord; people need the Lord! Nobody is a stranger who needs the Lord!
Who are our strangers? I am sure I could go on and on. I could speak of new members whom older members have never troubled to meet. I could speak of single adults, who may feel uncomfortable around all of us married folks. I could speak of persons whose sexual practice is not what most of us would think right. I could speak, and this is the toughest one of all, I could speak of persons who just approach others with a judgmental spirit, a closed heart, and a suspicious mind, and so create walls and divisions. I could go on and on to list our strangers.
But I will not. I will not. I will simply proclaim that God in Jesus Christ has declared that we are no longer strangers and aliens, but citizens with the saints and members of the household of God. I will simply praise God for the odd couples who go beyond their differences and care for one another. I will simply receive the peace of Christ for me and for you, different though we may be. I will simply look into your face and see a brother, not a bother; a sister, not something sinister. For He is our peace. And, even though my habits irritate Him and my ways are not His ways, I hear Him call my name with affection: "My child, my child, my child". Come on. It’s done. It’s over. You who once were far off have been brought near in the blood of Christ. Just accept Him. Just receive His embrace. Come on, it’s done. It’s over. You don’t have to be strangers and aliens. You can be citizens with the saints and members of this household of God.
