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Today, I want to extend my sermon from last Sunday, by continuing our conversation about community and the reality of our relational God. You may recall how I pointed out that the community of our God, our Trinitarian God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is bound in perfect unity, in love, to generate love that is shared with us. And this love became flesh and dwelt amongst us, revealed in the person of Jesus.
Which is why we are Jesus people who live the Jesus principles of hope, discipleship, care, and courage. But there is one more principle that holds this all together that I want to talk about today: It is trust. That is our topic… trust, and how to live as a community that trusts one another, not because of our unity of opinion, but because we are Jesus people who care for one another, with courage, as disciples who live in hope… trust holds it all together.
Let me tell you a story. I received an email recently from one of our vestry members, George Brumder. He sent me a link to a podcast via Notebook LM. The podcast was hosted by a man and woman discussing various aspects of life here at Epiphany: from Evensong and its history, to our theological reflections on artificial intelligence, to our programs for children and outreach, and much more.
It took me about seven-minutes into the eleven-minute podcast, to realize these weren’t real people; it was entirely generated by artificial intelligence, using data lifted from our website to create a realistic, convincing conversation. This was both fascinating and unsettling, causing me to recognize that it’s only a matter of time before one of the voices on an AI generated podcast will be mine, but not me. It’s only a matter of time before my face will be on the screen talking with an AI generated host, but it won’t be me. It’s only a matter of time before there is an AI “Avatar” button on our phones we can push when our sister calls, and she won’t know she’s not talking to me.
We’re in the midst of a seismic shift; and in this upheaval trust becomes tenuous: who and what we can trust; what is true, and what is not; who is real, and who is not. Anything digital will carry with it the possibly of not being what it seems. Maybe we’re already there…which could account for the political polarization we are experiencing, even now.
Which brings me to another story. On Wednesday, my son Desmond, who’s studying in Spain, called me. We talked about the election. He shared some reflections on how his Spanish friends perceived the U.S. election. Then he asked, “Dad, how are you doing?”
“Well,” I replied, “it’s a bit complicated here. Some people at Epiphany are really hurting, and are rightfully concerned about how their choices may be challenged by the federal government. Then there are others who feel the election outcome is a net positive for the country. And I feel like I am trying to catch a bolas” He laughed: “Dad, you’ve got this.”
A bolas, incidentally, for those of you not studying in Spain is a rope with weighted balls on each end used by gauchos to lasso livestock.
“You got this, Dad” were his heartening words that gave me courage to preach this sermon about how we live together as a trusting community, even when opinions and experiences are as markedly different as they could be.
And so, how do we catch bolas? How do we build a community of real trust? Face-to-face, person-to-person, neighbor-to-neighbor, soul-to-soul. We start by remembering the story of the AI generated podcast, and how in the not too distant future, if not today, not only will information be rendered unreliable, but the very voices and the faces will become suspect as well.
At Epiphany we are poised to catch the bolas because we are people who gather around two things that generate trust: worship and storytelling.These practices build communities of trust face-to-face, soul-to-soul.
How does worship build trust? Well, we do it together. We show up. It is our work. Liturgy literally means “the work of the people.” This work isn’t organized to get us on the same page with one another, but rather as a communal spiritual exercise done together at the same time, in the same place, on the same day, singing the same hymns, saying the same prayers, standing together, kneeling together, listening together, taking Eucharist together-this is worship.
This work of worship acknowledges that we are a community, on the same page, not necessarily with one another, but with God. God is the unity, and we are the community in which this unity dwells; and not because we share a particular point of view, but because we are all loved by God. Love is our firm foundation.
Worship reminds us, as we gather together face-to-face, soul to soul, that there are no insiders or outsiders in the Kingdom of God. We are all in this together, and the firm foundation upon which we stand when we get down to the very bedrock is the love of God.
The process of getting there requires scraping away the dirt and debris through the stories we tell. And this builds trust…not by right information, or right doctrine, or right belief, but by sharing our common humanity. In the hearing and telling of stories we find ourselves standing as a community upon the firm foundation of God’s love, irrespective of who we voted for.
The RELATA course we developed here at Epiphany is designed precisely for this face-to-face, soul-to-soul trust building. It is made to knit community together transcending differences as we seek common connections by sharing the stories of our lives.
The tools used for knitting community together are the needles of humanity and proximity, and the yarn of context. Humanity, proximity, context. We start with the needle of humanity which is the fundamental acknowledgement that each person is made in the image and likeness of God, Imago Dei, and placed by God providentially, right here, right now. Everyone carries the divine image of God, and it is seen when we see one another face-to-face. There is no conjuring Imago Dei digitally – a soul must be experienced incarnationally.
Which brings us naturally to the second needle for knitting community together; proximity. Trustworthy community will ultimately require personal presence. We are incarnational beings. To be born is to have a soul. The Christian church is built on this reality. The Word became flesh, and dwells among us, with a name: Jesus. Embodied, personal, present.
And as the digital realm becomes less trustworthy, the need for places to gather and be known becomes more and more necessary for the health and flourishing of humanity. Now, I understand that there are those who are homebound and limited in capacity for face-to-face proximity, and so find spiritual nourishment on-line. And that is good, as far as it goes. But still, I want to encourage you to make sure there is some soul-to-soul connection in your life, even if it can’t be with your chosen church community.
Finally, in this knitting metaphor there is the yarn of context. Knowing context is to know the story and to know the story gives insight and generates empathy. For example, knowing that the person who corrected me from the congregation at the 8:45 am service last Sunday by shouting 47 when I said 43 was my sister. And knowing this generates empathy for me.
Further context lets you know she got in trouble from our mom who was watching online. And that may bring you the same joy that it brings me. But more context still, will alert you to the fact that I’ll probably get in trouble by that same mom who’s watching right now for teasing my sister from the pulpit. Life is complex… But to know one’s story helps create understanding which makes space to share people’s anxieties and joy. And, most importantly, enables us to better care for one another.
And so, with the needles of humanity and proximity, and the yarn of context we knit community together through the stories we tell face-to-face, and the work of worship we do soul-to-soul. Which is why I can say with confidence: Epiphany, we’ve got this. We are drawn together here not by accident, but by God’s providence. This is a holy calling to be community in a way that stops the spin of polarization, by catching the bolas. And when the bolas stop, trust starts and safe-space is made for everyone.
That is what we do here at Epiphany, and mostly it is the easiest thing to do, and sometimes not so much. As I told Desmond last week; in times like these, it’s complicated being the Rector of Epiphany, holding a disparate community together against the spin of the bolas.
At times, I feel like Captain Kirk on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, as things are shaking as if we are under fire by Klingons, or at risk being pulled apart by a blackhole. And when I feel that shaking and quaking I shout down the stairs at Christie House, or up the stairs at Christie House, or across the courtyard to the music room, “Give us more power!” And I hear back, “Aye, Captain! We’ve got this.”
That is what your annual pledge pays for: a fabulous, seasoned team always ready to shout back: “We’ve got this.” And trust me, face-to-face, soul-to-soul the team we have here at Epiphany is exceptional, and I might add something unique across this nation.
But it only exists because of your generosity. So be generous in your pledge this year. The world is changing and we are going to need vital, thoughtful, dynamic churches more so than any time in the past 1000 years.
As the capacity to discern truth shapeshifts right in front of us, be mindful of the God who dwells with us connecting us incarnationally face-to-face, soul-to-soul honored in worship, known in story, knit together by humanity, proximity. and context creating in our midst the trusting community necessary for living the Jesus principles of hope, discipleship, care and courage.
Not always easy, but critically important and, I think, at Epiphany – We’ve got this.