October 11, 2020: Thrive Socially!
Ephesians 4:1-16
Rev. Dr. Rhonda Blevins
October 11, 2020
I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.
But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore it is said,
“When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people.”
(When it says, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.) The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.
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I hold a strand of yarn, just a few inches of yarn, a part of this greater skein of yarn. Like this, a strand of yarn is fairly useless. I might be able to cut it off and tie it on my finger as a reminder to pick up the dry cleaning or call the doctor’s office or keep my sermon short. But really, using it like that or keeping it here on this skein—this yarn is not living into its fullest potential.
Paul, in writing to the church at Ephesus, is writing that the church he planted some ten years prior might live into its fullest potential. The church is doing pretty well, it’s a good strong church in a coastal city known for its tourism (sound familiar?). Paul started the church at Ephesus on his second missionary journey. He went back to Ephesus on his third missionary journey and spent a couple of years there, growing the church from 12 Jewish men to a diverse congregation of Jews and Gentiles who were multi-racial, multi-ethnic from various socio-economic situations. And like any group, their diversity was posing a challenge to their unity. So now ten years after their start, Paul is reminding them that they are one. Yes, they have different gifts, different ideas, but that “with all humility and gentleness, with patience, [they should bear] with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Paul wanted them to recognize that their strength was in their diversity, grown from twelve Jewish men. Their health, as a church, was directly correlated to their ability to bring diverse people into their fellowship and maintain unity.
That’s not so different than us, you know.
A few years ago I read a book entitled Aging Well by Dr. George Vaillant, a professor at Harvard Medical School. Dr. Vaillant led a study that tracked adult development, following a group of men and women across five decades to discover what factors contributed to making senior adults what he called either “happy-well” or “sad-sick.” And when it comes to the transition into retirement, the study discovered four activities that a retiree must do for a rewarding retirement:
Expand the social network,
Find ways to play,
Rediscover creativity,
Continue lifelong learning.[1]
“The first retirement activity,” Dr. Vaillant writes, “should be to create new relationships as fast as the old ones are lost.”[2]
As we move through adulthood, we experience loss. We may lose friends because we grow apart, or someone moves or dies or there’s an estrangement. Loss is inevitable. The healthiest among us find ways to continue bringing people into our lives at every turn. This is the number one key to a rewarding life in our twilight years.
So what do we do in 2020 with a pandemic challenging our tried and true ways of connecting with friends and loved ones as we quarantine and “social distance” and put on hold many of the activities we once shared with others? Our fear of the virus is surely warranted with over 210,000 Americans losing their lives to this damnable virus. But the consequence of this fear, for many, is the opposite of widening social circles. In fact, for many if not most of us, our social circles have contracted. One report I read indicated that loneliness increased as much as 20-30% during the first month of sequestering.[3] This is not OK. This, in itself, is a health crisis.
Here’s what I believe: while we must social distance, we must also find ways for distant socializing. Our health depends on it.
Famous preacher Fred Craddock tells a story about the first church where he served as pastor. The church was a small, rural congregation close to Oak Ridge, Tennessee. While Craddock was the pastor there, the community surrounding Oak Ridge exploded with workers to staff the newly created nuclear plants. Pastor Craddock started noticing RVs, trucks, and tents here and there around the landscape. With Craddock’s church nearby, he logically began discerning a plan to reach out to the laborers who had moved to town. Naturally, Pastor Craddock hoped to reach these new people in the community for the church. There was, however, a big problem.
The congregation did not want them. Not one little bit.
After church one Sunday morning, Craddock convened the church leaders and presented his thoughts. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think they’d fit in here,” said one church member. “They’re just here temporarily, just construction people. They’ll be leaving pretty soon.” Craddock pushed back with another plea to the leadership, but he could not convince the leaders of their spiritual obligation. The leaders decided to hold a vote the following week.
At the beginning of the church meeting the next Sunday, a church member blurted, “I move that in order to be a member of this church, you must own property in the county.” The motion was abruptly seconded and passed. End of conversation.
Fast forward many years. Craddock—now a famous preacher — was in the East Tennessee area for a speaking event, and he and his wife decided to take a drive by the very first church where he had pastored. The area had changed over time, as well as the roads, but Craddock was able to find the little white building. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car.
To his great surprise, the parking lot was full; cars, pickup trucks, and motorcycles sitting around the old church building, now sporting a marquis: “BBQ: All You Can Eat.” Curiosity aflame, Craddock and his wife walked inside the old church building. The familiar pews lined the wall. The old organ was stuck in the corner. Tables of all different sizes held all manner of people feeding themselves on barbeque chicken and pork.
Craddock whispered to his wife, “It’s a good thing this isn’t still a church . . . otherwise, these people couldn’t be in here.”
A healthy church continually brings new people in. Same is true for a healthy human.
Just because we must retreat from a contagion does not mean that we retreat from connection. Just because we must retreat from COVID does not mean that we retreat from community. We just have to find new ways to connect—new ways to commune with one another in our church, in our families, in our social circles. You know what that requires? One of the four essential activities for a rewarding retirement . . . creativity!
I love some of the creative ways people are connecting. In our church, I know:
People who gather every Sunday around a big-screen smart TV and worship with us in small groups,
Someone who plays bridge every week with a small group of equally careful friends,
Condo dwellers who stand on their balconies and sing every night at 6pm,
A ninety-year old who learned how to zoom to connect with her family and friends,
A couple who played an online board game with friends they hadn’t seen in years,
Neighbors who bring their lawn chairs to a common driveway for good conversation and a beverage or two.
It’s exciting to see how creative you’ve been in order to connect during Covid.
Back in Ephesus, Paul writes to a diverse congregation with different gifts and viewpoints, reminding them that they need each other.
A strand of yarn, does not live into its fullest potential until it is knit together with many other strands, becoming not only useful, but beautiful, maybe even treasured, when it becomes a blanket in the hands of a skilled artisan. Like a single strand of yarn, we need each other in order to thrive.
This week, I challenge you to make one overture to connect with someone, to widen your social circle. Turn a stranger into an acquaintance, an acquaintance into a friend. Knit yourself together, one with another. And tell that damnable virus: “You can distance me, but you will not doom me to isolation and loneliness! I am part of a community, and my community needs me!”
[1] George E. Vaillant, Aging Well. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 2002, p. 224.
[2] Ibid., 226.
[3] https://www.healthaffairs.org/do/10.1377/hblog20200609.53823