Service on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DpJlN2F70o

The Work Bench

Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a little village in a far northern country, there was a carpenter’s workshop. One day, when the carpenter was away for a while, a mighty quarrel broke out on the workbench, among the tools. The dispute went on and on, and became more and more embittered. The argument was about the need to exclude certain tools from the community.

“We really have to exclude Sister Saw,” one of the tools began. “She bites, and she grinds her teeth. She has the most peevish character anyone could imagine.”

“We absolutely can’t keep Brother Plane among us any longer,” another tool chimed in. “He has a cruel nature, scraping at everything he touches.”

“As for Brother Hammer,” a third insisted, “I find him such a bore, and rowdy with it. He thumps away all the time and gets on all our nerves. Let’s get rid of him.”

“And what about the nails?” asked a fourth. “How can we be expected to live alongside such sharp characters? They’re a positive hazard to us all. And the file and the rasp as well. Living with them is one constant cause of friction! And, while we’re about it, we should send the sandpaper away, because she seems to be the reason why this workshop is in such a fractious mood.” 

And the whole dispute rapidly became a battleground of all the tools, each one trying to out-shout the others. History doesn’t record whether it was the hammer who accused the saw, or the plane who objected to the nails, but the outcome of the melee was that all the tools found themselves excluded!

When Paul writes a letter to a community it is often because he is upset with them. It is often because they have come to some kind of problem and it obviously needs to be solved.

And Paul seems angry.

We’re going to define our terms a little differently than we did last week. Last week, Paul seemed to be mostly talking to the Jewish followers of Jesus who were under the leadership of James, probably Jesus’ brother. It is common when the first leader of a moment dies, there are disputes over who and who’s ideas will carry on the tradition. Those who studied under James, the James-ite followers of Jesus, have held onto the idea that to be a Jesus follower is to be one who FIRST follows the religion of Jesus–Judaism, and the covenant, the Torah, the law that Jesus followed and taught.

But the James-ites, as happens in religious communities, seem to have missed the point of the law, a point that I think we miss when we focus on calling the Covenant the law, that these are the things that must be done to come before God, to be in relationship with God, and not as a covenant might imply, the how we’re going to be in relationship together–like a marriage covenant on how the 2 will live this life together. The covenant, the Torah, the law was meant to be a gift, not a measuring rod.

And to be fair, I don’t know what Paul thought of the Covenant, because he was an all or nothing, black and white–with no shades of grey and certainly no colors kind of person.

But while the James-ites were teaching the Galatians that they needed to adhere to the law, Paul reminded them that they had already experienced the Spirit of God in their midst. We don’t have the story, we have the reminder of that story. Maybe, like at Pentecost, when the Spirit came on them they spoke in languages they had never known. Maybe there were some who prophesied–spoke God’s truth–over the community. Maybe they felt that sense of calm, or the sense of passion, or courage to tell others of the Jesus they met in their community.

Paul’s complaint to them, argument to them, is that if they are believing the James-ites, then they are saying that their experience of the Spirit of God must not have meant anything. Didn’t it mean something?

And he even says that Abraham had a relationship and experience and promise of God even before he was circumcised, before Moses came down the mountain with the covenant, even then, God was in relationship with Abraham.

Those were the competing ideas, the discrepancies, the warring ideas that were pitting groups and people against each other.

Because it was easy to see who was who, who belonged to the Greek culture, who was from Judea, who had means, who was owned, who hard rights, who was on the outside of the community. And there were lots of ways, I’m sure, but at least one of them was by their clothing. You could tell a person’s ethnicity, their social status, their place in the community by their clothing. In a time of empires and conquering, in a time of powers and fighting, in cultures that were based in honor and shame, it was vital to hold on to where you came from, to be able to distinguish who you should interact with and who you should ignore.

Even today clothing can communicate what you believe, what is important to you, how you feel about authority, the music you listen to, your job…

Of course, it’s an imperfect way of discerning people. There are many other ways. By the church you go to, the neighborhood you live in, the people you spend time with, the car you drive, the stuff you have, the way one talks and the language one speaks or uses, whether or not someone has done or said the right things, right prayers, right beliefs, right vote, right politics, right Bible, right papers, right opinions… I could go on, we could go on.

And at our worst we judge those of religious communities who literally put on something–a scarf, a hijab, a wig, a turban–to remind them in every moment of their faith, at our worst we don’t just see differences as diversity that can expand our understanding of what it means to be human living in this world and what it means to be made in the image of God making, building community in ways that make sense for each place and time. At our worst, we point fingers and dehumanize the those not like us, at our worst we eliminate the ones we see as a problem.

When the earliest days of the church would baptize new believers, they would come in with their own clothing, remove them, be baptized naked, and then given a robe, the same robe all those baptized were given, inside this community, they were all first and foremost children of God.

Putting on Christ is putting on that which makes you a child of God first. Not what distinguishes to for a particular group, or wealth statues, or ethnic group, or particular role–the first thing you are is a child of God. The first thing that you ought to see in each other is that they are a child of God. I don’t think we leave all the other things behind, but they are all secondary to the belonging we have to God and to each other.

First, child of God and heir to the inheritance, then tell us the stories of your people, the experiences you have in your skin, what has brought you joy and sorrow.

Meanwhile, at the work bench,

The noisy quarrel continued and escalated, and came to a sudden end on the return of the carpenter to his workshop. All the tools fell silent when they saw him approaching.

He picked up a plank of wood, and cut it with the biting Sister Saw. He smoothed it down with cruel, scraping Brother Plane. With boring, rowdy Brother Hammer he drove in the sharp, hazardous nails. Using rough-natured Brother File and abrasive Sister Sandpaper he made a velvet finish on the wood.

Not a single one of the tools was left out as the carpenter went about his task of creating…a table.

~ Retelling of a Swedish folktale from 100 MORE WISDOM STORIES by Margaret Silf

A large table, a table that uses all the tools and has room for all.

Because we are one in Christ, we are all heirs to the promises, we are not first defined by our ethnicity, our social-economic status, our gender or assumed roles, we are defined first by Christ. And we, when we put on Christ first, when the first part of our day, when the foundation of our lives, is Christ, we learn to see the world as Christ does, to see each other as Christ does, to love the stranger, the immigrant, the outside, the poor, the vulnerable, the marginalized as Christ does.

And we learn to sit at table together, to hear each other’s stories as if it were Christ telling them to us. To learn each other’s traditions and customs and celebrate them, to first see Christ in our selves and each other.

And we gather at this table, because it is God’s table, so all are invited. It is God’s table and so it does not stop at the edges, or at the walls, but extends across countries and boarders, cultures and languages. It is God’s table and so it does not live in this moment, but includes those saints to have gathered around God’s table–in every generation, for millennia, last month, and every one who is yet to gather around God’s table. God’s table where we are called Children of