Feb 28, 2010
Luke 13:31-32
Philippians 3:17-20a
Acts 2:43-47
Acts 4:32-35
In the lectionary Gospel for this week, the contrast is between the domination consciousness of Herod—who wants to kill Jesus—and the alternative consciousness of Jesus, who is casting out demons and performing cures. In the letter to the Philippians, the destructive destiny of the domination consciousness that lives for material consumption is contrasted with the redemptive community of Christ eagerly awaiting the reign of God.
We sometimes forget that the Gospel understandings of our being and our purpose are radically different from those of the larger culture around us. We’re to replace its fear, consumerism, and striving with a strange new way of love and reconciliation. That’s not to be just a shift in attitude but lead to radically different behavior. If we actually followed the Gospel understandings, most other people would consider us weird.
Our repeated forgetting (or de-emphasizing) of this contrast isn’t surprising, for our culture is incredibly seductive, quite capable of using even our principled attempts to remain faithful in order to pull us back in, for instance, as when advertising begins to target our zeal for fresh, organic, locally grown food, converting that zeal into just another higher-class form of consumerism.
Many of us have been thinking about the coming crises—the environment, economics, poverty, corporate structure, governance and so on. Yesterday at our Community Day, we spent some time talking about simplicity, one of the underpinnings of the reign of God that contrasts deeply with the consumerist culture of our society. Simplicity is one of the steps toward that change in consciousness that will be necessary to respond to the coming crises. This morning I’d like to think together about another, even more radical understanding that helps to define God’s reign: the followers of Jesus are to have “unlimited liability” for one another. This understanding was at one time central to the conversation within the Church of the Saviour but no longer seems to be much talked about. I’m hoping we can begin the conversation again.
Unlimited liability, as I understand it, results from the particular love that we hold for those close to us. It implies that we consider the need of the other as important as our own. If we hold unlimited liability for one another, then we’ll do all in our power to make sure that the real needs of the other individuals in the community are met. The most familiar pattern of such love in the wider culture is within families: between spouses, between parents and children, sometimes among siblings.
So, if we were to begin to explore it again within this community, what might unlimited liability look like?
Although my mind jumps immediately to unlimited financial liability for one another, that’s only part of it, probably not even the most difficult part. Unlimited liability also includes long-term commitment to relationship, to interpersonal honesty and accountability, to comfort and emotional support at difficult times, to repeatedly giving to one another the benefit of the doubt. It means, for instance, something as prosaic as regular visits when another is ill or dying, or inviting the other into your home to live, of potentially time-consuming offers of personal assistance in difficult times.
If you think about it, it’s a simple consequence of our loving one another. Of course I’ll make sure your needs are met, just as I would for my parents or my children.
But unlimited liability does include financial liability, too, and that’s the one most likely to hang us up.
Financial sharing was obviously included within Jesus’ immediate community and was also part of his teaching. And, too, as Hayley read, it’s mentioned twice in the book of Acts as a characteristic of the early Christian community. We tend to dismiss those reports of mutual economic responsibility, however, as temporary phenomena practiced mostly by the first generation or two of Christians. They were probably caught up in the excitement of this new movement and believed in Jesus’ imminent return, anyway. So they probably thought that they wouldn’t need their personal resources and could easily give them to others. Recent research, however, has shown that the practice of economic sharing persisted, in many communities, for generations up until the church became the state religion under Constantine. Unlimited liability was apparently part of Christian identity for at least three centuries, not a flash in the flush of early excitement.
What I find most fascinating about the Acts passages is that in both texts the great power and grace that the early Christians experienced is presented as relating directly to this total sharing of their money and possessions. In the verse just before the one about financial sharing in chapter two of Acts, we read, “Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles.” And in chapter 4, sandwiched between the two verses about sharing we read, “With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all.”
Luke apparently wants to tell us that there’s a deep connection between our caring for one another’s needs and the spiritual power we’re given. Unlimited liability for one another strengthens our capacity to nourish and protect others.
Unlimited liability is not only a generative vision for the community. It will also become very practical. As we think about the coming crises—environmental, financial, economic, political, and perhaps social—some of us, perhaps most of us, are going to be much poorer. Such caring for one another may become a practical necessity.
We talked yesterday about the need for personal simplicity especially in the face of the environmental crises. If I can trust in the community’s unlimited liability for me, I can live with less anxiety, giving me much more freedom simplify.
And if the coming crises are going to be as difficult as I think they are, the real power of Christian life that comes from this kind of sharing with one another will be crucial. Unlimited liability will not only require our faith but give it back to us, too.
In Meade’s sermon last Sunday she suggested that the work of Lent may not be so much to choose a new discipline for ourselves but to listen to what God is up to in our midst. It seems to me that in our community what God has been up is encouraging us to support one another financially in times of need.
So far, it’s been tentative:
- contributions from the Compassion Fund when a person needs it;
- a community-wide special collection for those with special needs,
- individuals often quietly loaning or giving money directly to others, or
- the 77% of our budget that goes directly to organizations working with people in need.
We’ve already been given the gift of economic sharing. God is drawing us to the next step: unlimited liability for one another.
Before I go any further, I should admit that I don’t know exactly what this unlimited liability is going to look like. We’ve already taken the beginning steps, and what I’m hoping is that we can begin the conversation about what it would mean to move deeper.
Even contemplating that kind of responsibility for others, however, evokes fear for most of us. If I really give away much of what I have, what security will remain for me if things go south? If I trust in others’ unlimited liability for me, will they follow through? Will there even be enough for everyone?
As I’ve tentatively suggested unlimited liability to several members of our community, I’ve heard several very practical objections. Even though I don’t know specifically how this unlimited liability is going to work in practice, let me respond to those objections with my own thoughts. I’m sure they won’t really satisfy, but let me put them out there.
The objection that I’ve heard most often—and that I think lurks quite near the surface in all of us—is: “Well, one person’s need is another person’s luxury. What am I supposed to do when somebody thinks they need … whatever, and I think they don’t need it?” Well, the Acts’ passages are about responding to another’s needs. And in our culture, most of us will perceive what are really “wants” as needs. Part of being in community together, however, is being accountable to one another. This means challenging one another, in this case specifically about wants and needs. It’s not just you asserting your need and my having to agree; it’s we—as a community—holding each other accountable, working it out together—as a community—until we reach consensus.
Another practical objection is: “Can I really trust you guys … especially when I know you as well as I do? How can I be sure that after I’ve given much of my financial security away to others that the community will really be here for me?” Well, you can’t be sure, just as the early Christians couldn’t. We shouldn’t enter into this practice lightly … although in our discussions we might find ways to enter gradually. But no one ever said that following Jesus guaranteed you security. And this is part of that huge difference that should exist between life in the Christian community and life in the dominant culture.
A third objection is: “Well what if someone actually needs something really expensive, like long-term nursing home care at more than $400 a day for years? Does the entire community give away all its extra income so that there’s nothing left to respond to one’s own or to another’s needs?” Well, this is getting into details that have little to do with spirituality, but one practical answer is that there are government programs—such as SSI, Medicaid, or Medicare—that to a large extent help the indigent to cover the most expensive of needs, especially nursing home care. The task of the community will be to make sure those benefits become available and to supplement them where they fall short.
A fourth objection that we don’t usually articulate to ourselves comes from our very human propensity to blame the individuals who are asking for help for their misfortune. I’ve noticed my tendency on the Leadership Team, for instance, as we field requests to the compassion fund: I’m quite free with the first or even the second request from an individual person for help. But I find myself resisting additional requests from the same person. “Is this person really being responsible with their own money? Why is he coming back so often? Maybe he needs to be more accountable to somebody.” But the reality is—and this will be even more true as our economy tightens—some of us will have ongoing financial needs that we can’t meet. Will we blame those folks for their “irresponsibility” and make them jump through hoops, or can we support them without resentment? That’ll be hard; we’ll have to work diligently on that one and ask for grace.
Just to make it clear, I’m not suggesting that we enter into a formal covenant that binds us legally to unlimited liability, sort of a home-made insurance plan with a certain payout if we’re in trouble. As I said, we’ll have to work on this and figure out the details. But what I’m thinking about is a voluntary covenant that, ultimately, when crunch-time comes, we as individuals will decide what that unlimited liability means for us. It’s the promise that I’ll be here and consider myself responsible for your needs, but it’s not a legal guarantee. Our Gospel understanding leads to radically different behavior.
Okay, there’s lots more to say, but let’s leave my part there. It’s time we heard from some of you. Let’s open the lectern up for whoever wants to speak to us. As usual—rather than following my example—try to be brief.