The lessons are rich with meaning this week. Once I preached on Acts 2, and a member accused me of being a Communist! Well, it is right there in the Bible, this effort to hold all possessions in common. In researching material for my second book, I discovered the town of Communia, Iowa, located near Elkader. The town was settled by a number of families who wished to take Acts 2 as a model for living. A priest turned blacksmith, two tailors, a shoemaker, a locksmith, a carpenter, a druggist, a dentist, and one farmer brought their families to establish the town. Crop failure, river floods, and arguments over sharing possessions caused the town to fall apart, and it no longer exists.
Having everything in common led to the same problems that the community in Acts 2 faced. For example, a woman did not wish to part with her treasured linens, which would be placed in a common chest for everyone to use. In 1856 the community disbanded. I still think Acts 2 is trying to teach us something valuable and beautiful. If some of you use it, please send me your thoughts.
Some may choose the John passage this week: trying to move the sheep through the narrow gate. Bishop Rueben Job’s father raised sheep. He liked to tell of a neighbor who also raised sheep, but his sheep were wild with ragged, torn hides. The difference: Mr. Job led his sheep; the neighbor drove his flock. I know of parents who treat their children that way. I learned years ago that it is better to lead, than to push and shove the kid.
The 23rd Psalm is also offered for this Sunday. Everyone knows those words, and many might decide to take a nap if we use that text. The preacher might even yawn. But I happened to read the Psalm from the old Jerusalem Bible and made a discovery: when we come to the last verse, “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all days of my life,” there was an asterisk by the word “follow.” The note at the bottom of the page changed “
follow”
to
“pursue
,” implying we are being
pursued
by God. Why are we running away—especially if God is trying to give us goodness and mercy? It reminded me of the poem by Francis Thompson, “The Hound of Heaven”:
I fled Him down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him down the arches of the years;
I fled him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind;
And in the mist of tears I hid from Him.
Why are we running away?
Are we each prodigal sons and daughters?
This text endures to tell us that God is inescapable.
We are found, we are known, we are loved with a love that will not let us go.
Old Karl Barth once said, “God’s wrath is the heat of God’s love.” I think that will preach.
Dear God,
Help us to use these days of sadness and confinement as a means to discover and know you better. In the terrible sadness of pain and death for so many, give to each of us the wisdom to carry on.
We pray in the name of the Good Shepherd, even so Jesus the Christ. Amen
