With You in Spirit

Sermon

The identity of the writer of Colossians is a problem. Some scholars take the writer at his word, and say that the author is none other than the great apostle Paul. Other scholars look at the way this letter is written, some nuances of the text, and say that the letter is actually written by a protégé or admirer of Paul – that sort of thing was done in those days, writing under the name of a well-known author. I’m not sure it matters all that much who wrote the letter… or does it?

The identity of the writer of Colossians is a problem and the writer of Colossians has a problem: he cannot be with the people he wants to be with. He may be imprisoned; he may be awaiting execution in Rome. Wherever and whoever this writer is, he is not with the community of Jesus-followers in Colossae.

Other challenges face this author. How do you communicate the gospel to people you’ve never met, like those Jesus-followers in Laodicea? How effective is a letter – a letter that may reach people who are illiterate, a letter that may be woefully outdated, having traveled by foot, horse, or boat over the Mediterranean terrain? And if indeed this author, this Paul, is awaiting death in prison, how hard is it to summon up the courage and faith and resilience to share the good news with the people in Colossae?

There is a bigger problem in these five short verses, a theological problem, and that is the theological conundrum of separation. One definition of sin is separation from God; one understanding of human suffering is separation from our fellow humans. When I say the theology of separation I don’t mean that understanding in more conservative churches that Christians must separate themselves from the world. Rather, I mean a theology of suffering that comes from separation. I sort of made that up for the purposes of this sermon.

We are meant to live in community. The writer of Genesis tells us that at the creation, God declares that it is not good for the man to live all by himself, so God creates the woman. The poet John Donne reminds us that “no man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main….” Sociologist Brené Brown talks about belonging and writes that “True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness.” (https://www.forbes.com/sites/danschawbel/2017/09/12/brene-brown-why-human-connection-will-bring-us-closer-together/#7b5e1fff2f06)

We are not meant to be alone, and when we are alone, we suffer. How deeply we know that right now. The other day I ran into our dear Mary Ann at the grocery store, and what I wanted to do (after we recognized each other in our masks) was give her a big hug. But no. Instead, we kept our good distance and spoke as well as we could through our masks.

I miss people. Don’t you? Have you thought about who you really, really miss? Have you thought about the first people you’ll have to your home for dinner, the first people you’ll go to coffee with when all this is over? Technology helps, certainly, but looking at someone’s buffering face on Zoom chat isn’t the same thing as breathing the same air as them, as remembering the smell of their shampoo, of seeing them live and in person. I think it’s fair to say that this pandemic, and the separation each of us is experiencing, is causing a bit of a spiritual crisis, too.

In this season of crisis and separation, I think the writer of Colossians, who himself knew separation, might have a word for us. He writes about being with this community in spirit. Sitting in isolation in his jail cell, awaiting death by execution, in his fear and separation he reminded himself and the readers of his letter that there were forces stronger than fear and separation at work, and the greatest of those forces was the Spirit of God. So when he writes, “I am with you in spirit,” he means that that God’s Holy Spirit has connected him with the community in Colossae and the community in Laodicea. It’s a bit like what we say at weddings: those whom God has joined together, let no one separate.

It’s as though all of us who are knit together by God’s spirit cannot be separated, not in any eternal sense. But even as I say that, it seems to negate the true suffering of being separated from each other. Does that mean we are incapable or unwilling to trust that the Spirit is holding us together? Does it mean we don’t believe that we are with one another in Spirit? Does separation lead to a crisis of spirit?

Maybe. And maybe not.

We can feel more than one thing at once. We can have a deep sense in our soul that indeed we are being knit together by the love and power of God’s Holy Spirit and at the same time we can feel alone and isolated. We can enjoy the downtime, the homebody time, and at the same time feel separated from the community that feeds our soul. To say “I know the Spirit is keeping us together but I feel so alone” is a very true and faithful thing to say.

So then, how can we be with one another in Spirit when we can’t gather together or hug one another? How can I say “I am with you in spirit” when other things might separate us? Yes, the pandemic keeps us from being with one another. But as a nation, we’ve been separated for a while. Can we be with each other in spirit even when we might disagree deeply and fundamentally about some things?

Being with another in spirit does not mean being in agreement with another. What a boring world that would be if we all agreed on everything, if there were never any dissent or argument. I mean that. What I think we have forgotten is that argument does not destroy community, and disagreement does not have to weaken us, as long as we remember that the Spirit holds us together – even with those with whom we might vehemently disagree.

Back in 2017, long before this pandemic kept us apart, Forbes Magazine interviewed Brené Brown about the disconnect many in the U.S. were feeling. She said, “We’re in a spiritual crisis, the key to building a true belonging practice is maintaining our belief in inextricable human connection. That connection — the spirit that flows between us and every other human in the world — is not something that can be broken; however, our belief in the connection is constantly tested and repeatedly severed. When our belief that there’s something greater than us, something rooted in love and compassion, breaks, we are more likely to retreat to our bunkers, to hate from afar, to tolerate [baloney] and to dehumanize others.

“Addressing this crisis will require a tremendous amount of courage. For the moment most of us are either making the choice to protect ourselves from conflict, discomfort, and vulnerability by staying quiet, or picking sides and in the process adopting the behavior of the people with whom we passionately disagree. Either way, the choices we are making to protect our beliefs are leaving us disconnected, afraid and lonely.”

What if the only belief that we worked hard to protect was the belief that each of us is created in the image of God, that every human being has value and worth, that every human being deserves joy and love and life? What if we never argued about that? What if as a nation we affirmed the innate value and worth of Black men and women and children? What if as a world we valued the innate value and worth of our lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender siblings? What if we relied on the connection of the Spirit to keep us together long enough to have that conversation with those we can’t see eye to eye with?

I’ve noticed my own spiritual crisis lately; I’ve noticed that there is hate beginning to grow in my heart, mostly for leaders who are taking this pandemic far too cavalierly, and for leaders who want to brush off the racism that has plagued our nation for over 400 years. So I ask myself: can I be with these people in spirit? Because I don’t see these folks sharing that core belief of the innate worth and value of every human being. And then I have to admit that I do not see the innate value and worth of these people I fear I am beginning to hate.

What would the writer of Colossians say to me, to us? To say “let’s hate the sin and love the sinner” is far too simplistic an answer. To acknowledge that each of us is living under an undue amount of stress because of all that is going on is really important, and to acknowledge that stress affects us, body and soul. But to give up on that core tenet of our faith that every human being has innate value and worth is a sin.

So, what would the writer of Colossians say to me, to us? Would the writer ask me to join him in saying to everyone, “…we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God”? Would he remind us to “Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving” and to “Conduct yourselves wisely towards outsiders, making the most of the time”?

Well, if the physical, moral, national, theological, and spiritual crises weren’t enough, I’ve given you all of this. But I can say with all the truth in my heart, I really am with you in Spirit. And I have a sense that you are with me, too.

To the glory of God.