In one of the
readings next Sunday, in the Book of Acts, Luke gives us a glimpse of life in
the neo-natal resurrection church in Jerusalem:
Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul,
and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they
owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to
the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There
was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold
them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles'
feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. (Acts 4:32-35)
Well, this is
not quite what you might read at the annual church parade of the Real Estate
Institute, or Stockbrokers for Jesus.
Professor E M Blaiklock, my teacher of Greek long ago, was of the view
that this selling and sharing of property was the church’s first big mistake,
and that is why Paul later had to run around Macedonia collecting relief funds
for the impoverished church in Jerusalem.[1] The lectionary moreover coyly leaves out what
follows, the dreadful story of Ananias and Sapphira – they tried to hide part
of their property, but Peter exposed their deceit, and each of them fell dead. Satan filled your heart, said Peter. This is not one of the church’s finest
moments.
However,
there are a couple of things to learn from Luke’s snapshot of the very early
church. The first is… just that: property,
possessions and ownership. Mature faith does
reset our relationship to possession. We
are not defined now by what we own, or how we appear, lifestyle or reputation. St Paul later says, I may give away all I
possess, or even give my body to be burned, but without love it profits me
nothing.[2]
The other is
the comment that they were all of one heart and soul – and they made
sure that no one was in need. They were soon
however to discover what we know very well, that the company of Jesus is rarely
if ever of one heart and soul… the church defaults with terrible ease to
fallible, sinful, divided and wounded – even if we can still stand up and sing
with a straight face: We are not divided / All one body we / One in hope and
doctrine, / One in charity. The
resurrection miracle is not that we are perfect in grace and unity, one big
happy family, but that God chooses, inspires and uses such frail and erratic
material.
Jesus’s
resurrection, whatever we understand by that, is the sign and the empowerment
of our resurrection, daily, willingly, into Christ (as Paul puts it) –
into the way Jesus teaches and forms in us.
Born anew, writes Peter, into a living hope by the
resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.[3] Benedictines describe this as conversatio
– conversion, anew, each day, fuelled and inspired in silence and stillness and
in our heartfelt consent to God, amid all the mystery of it… a living hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment