Church of the Incarnation

As a child I was fascinated by roly-polies. I loved how hard and perfectly round they became when they curled up at my touch. And I loved to stand perfectly still and wait for them to think the danger had passed so they would slowly uncurl. I loved to watch their line of tiny legs churn as they righted themselves and began to crawl again, their legs tickling my hand as they went.

I knew all the places to find roly-polies in my yard: under cool rocks and bricks or under moist flower pots. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to capture them, to hold onto the little creatures. So I would take a mayonnaise jar and create the perfect home for roly-polies so I could keep them with me always. But, of course, no matter how many holes I poked in the lid of the jar, and no matter how much grass and dirt I put in the jar, the roly-polies always died. By trying so hard to hold onto them, I ended up destroying the very thing I loved.

In today's gospel, Jesus' disciples are worried. Some Greeks ask to speak with Jesus. Now, it's fine to welcome Jews of all kinds into the faith of Jesus, but how can Greeks, people who worship multiple gods and seem to put more faith in their own intellect than in any deity, how can they be considered followers of Christ? Are we just to fling open the doors and let anyone in? What about standards? Shouldn't they have to be circumcised like us and study the Torah like us and observe the dietary laws like us? And if they don't have to do all those things, then what does that say about us and about the way we've been living our faith for all these years? Are we to abandon thousands of years of Jewish tradition like it was all meaningless?

And Jesus' answer is, "Yes. It isn't that your way of expressing your faith is wrong - it's served many well for a long time. But you're holding onto it too tightly; you've locked it up in a jar like a roly-poly and so you've destroyed it. You've taken some very good and pious practices and turned them into ways to judge others and keep them out of the circle of God's love. You're doing it right now with these Greeks. No, you've got to loosen your grip, to unscrew the lid of the mayonnaise jar that's holding everything you hold most dear. You've got to be willing to let it all go in order to receive something so much better, in order to receive me. Those who love their life will lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life." 1

There's so much that we try to hold onto, to shut up in mayonnaise jars like roly-polies. My niece started middle school this year, and I want to keep her a happy little girl locked in a jar rather than let her become sullen and moody and distant like everyone does in middle school. I want to sing along with her to "Elmopalooza," not to the sleazy sexual songs on the Top 40. And I want to have actual conversations with her, not just send text messages. I don't want her to change and grow and take on a life of her own. I want to keep her in a jar on my bedside table the way she is right now.

Last Sunday afternoon we dreamed about the future of Incarnation, a future in which our church is full of giggling, squirming children and their stressed-out parents. It's an exciting vision, and seems like the path God's been preparing us to take for a long time now. But I'll admit, there's a part of me that wants to keep Incarnation in a jar just the way we are. I love knowing everyone's name and being able to speak to every visitor after the service. I love being able to be with everyone who's in the hospital and knowing when folks are going through hard times. It's hard to let go of what I love most about this church just on the hope and promise that God has something more in store. And it's hard to get geared up for the work it'll take to bring that vision to pass. It feels a lot easier to hide behind excuses like "we're just little ole Gaffney, we can't do great things" or "we could do it if the Diocese would only get out here and help us."

But then Jesus says, "The one loving his life will ruin it, and the one hating his life in this world will guard it into eternal life." 2 By holding onto our lives or our church - or roly-polies - too tightly, by not allowing them to change and grow, we end up destroying what we loved about them in the first place. But by letting go, by submitting to what God wants to do with the things we love, we end up preserving what's best about them for all eternity.

We could hoard the love we have here at Incarnation and try to keep our family small and close. But the very act of hoarding will ruin that love and turn it into judgment and exclusion, into haughtiness and self-righteousness. So we have to risk losing our family by opening it up, much as Jesus did by welcoming the Greeks. Someone said last Sunday night that she dreamed of Incarnation being a place where everyone's welcome, even if it makes us nervous. And it may. When we really unleash our love on this community and their children, we'll attract all kinds of people: single mothers, poor and even homeless families, teenage parents and those who are far from extended families. But by unleashing our love on them, we'll transform them into our family, into the family of God, where everyone's welcome and nobody makes us nervous because we love them and they love us.

I believe God's about to do amazing things at Incarnation - things that will change us and things that will change our community. So look out, world! The lid is off the jar and Incarnation's about to come out!

Amen.

References:

1. John 12:25, RSV translation.
2. John 12:25, my own translation.