BY DR. KENNY CAMACHO / SERMON DELIVERED 7 JANUARY 2024 FOR REVOLUTION CHURCH
This Sunday, we’re introducing our theme for 2024, which is Together on Purpose. In a nutshell, our goal this year is to explore the many ways we might approach and answer the central question of our faith, which is why? Why are we here? Why do we gather? Why is a body like this one–why is a church–meant to be so important in our lives? Why are churches–like Revolution, or our friends at Heritage and College Creek, or the Catholic congregation downtown at St. Mary’s, or our Pentecostal brothers and sisters throughout the city–here in Annapolis in the first place? What is God really up to? Is this really it?
The Preaching Team and I are tackling these questions this year because one of the strengths of Revolution, especially over these last two years, is that many of us have found a community here where we delight in being together. But are we together on purpose? Is there a point to all of this? Is there a mission? Surely, we believe there should be! But can we always see it?
We just came through the Christmas season, and one of the great sadnesses right now in my family’s life (at least for me) is that my kids seem to have finally outgrown Lego. This Christmas yielded the fewest number of Lego kits in our house in more than a decade. Evangeline got a couple… but they’re the “grown-up kind,” like the realistic flower and art sets. They’re not Star Wars spaceships or cool dragons and castles anymore. And worst of all, she builds them all herself. For so long, I got to be the builder on Christmas afternoons… but those days have passed.
I was thinking about this because, as my kids’ interests have changed, there are fewer and fewer things they want because they have a plan to play with them. Once upon a time, a new Lego set was something they built (or I built!) so they could have a gateway to an adventure. But the ones they build now are really just there for them to look at. This isn’t bad, necessarily… but it’s also not the same. Here’s where I’m going with this: every Lego kit requires assembly. You open the bags and put all those pieces together so you can make something bigger, something more impressive, than just a pile of bricks. But, once they’re together, do they have a purpose?
There’s a metaphor here, right? We’re all the Lego pieces, and the church is the Lego set. God is the builder putting us all together, often in ways we don’t quite understand, for a purpose all his own. But what is that purpose? We’re going to spend much of this year looking at what we gain, and what the world gains, from what God has built! But here in week one, we want to start with God: what is he doing this for? How can we know?
In his letter to the Christians in the city of Ephesus, the apostle Paul tells God’s “assembly story” like this. He writes,
You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, doing the will of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else, but God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we may walk in them.
Ephesians 2:1-10
Those words can sound a lot like “doom and gloom,” particularly at the beginning. But what is Paul trying to say? When he reminds the Ephesians that they were “dead through the trespasses and sins in which [they] once walked,” he’s not trying to shame them. What he’s trying to do is remind them that they were once disconnected, both from each other and from God: they followed selfish spirits, did whatever their individual “flesh and senses” led them to do, and–in Paul’s words–were like “children of wrath.” Again, that’s a scary-sounding phrase… but I think what it means is that they were people of de-construction. This is what “wrath” does! It antagonizes and separates and breaks down and destroys. But (and this is very “first century Greek” thinking) Paul says that even in their destructiveness, they weren’t in charge, but were rather “children” of a spiritual power that is at odds with any real connection. He also says that, when they were this way, they were “like everyone else”: being disconnected is a typical way of living in the world.
“But God,” because he is “rich in mercy” and in love even with disconnected things brings them back together… and then, through his love, returns them to “life.” This journey–from disconnected death to reconnected life–is essential in Paul’s writing and in the imagination of the early church: to be put together by God is to be restored fully, not only to some bigger whole, but also to individual life. You can think of it like screwing light bulbs in throughout a house while the power is on: each bulb is dark and dead… but as soon as it’s connected to the circuit, light comes out. The more bulbs, the brighter the room! The purpose might be to illuminate a common space… but each bulb receives its own life when it gets plugged in, too. Those two things, in the Christian imagination, cannot be separated: when we are together, we are alive… and when we are apart, we are dead.
But is this God’s only purpose in bringing us together? Why does God want all these lights on, anyway? What is he assembling? To mix our metaphors: is this Lego kit God is building just meant to be something pretty to look at? To make a pun out of our mixed metaphors: is what God is building just a vanity–a row of light bulbs over a mirror so God can better see himself? Is there a “vanity”-themed Lego kit?
Okay, that’s just bad writing. But at first, the answer does seem like “maybe”: Paul writes that God does all of this “so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.” He puts us together to show something important about himself: “the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us.” But it’s only vanity if we stop reading right there… and leave out “in Christ Jesus.”
Because what does Jesus do? Who is Jesus, and how does he fit into God’s assembly story? Those Christmas gifts my kids received two weeks ago were given in celebration of what we believe to be the essential gift we all received when Jesus was born into this world. At Christmas, we sing about Jesus “Immanuel”–Jesus who is God with us. The wonder of Jesus is incarnational: our “light” isn’t made possible because a distant God waved a magic wand and fixed us. It’s made possible because God used his hands: he came to where we are as one of us so that we might deeply and personally know him. Our re-assembly isn’t about God’s vanity, it’s about God’s humility. Paul writes,
For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we may walk in them.
The reason God has brought us together–the purpose of what God has built–is always missional. Yes, Jesus’s death is an act of atonement that extends forgiveness to us for our brokenness, our wrath. And yes, Jesus’s life gives us new life, new light, so that we can praise God for his kindness towards us. And yes, the establishment of the church as “one body” for God’s good purposes enables all of us to have friends and family and connections so that we cease to be so lonely in the world, and we might find encouragement when we need it and challenge when we need it and hope when we need it. All of that is true! We are forgiven, we are restored, we are connected. But we have been (re)created, (re)assembled, in Christ Jesus for good works so that we may walk in them. We aren’t merely God’s vanity. We aren’t just recipients of grace and holders of hope. The Church is a Lego kit that is meant to be useful.
God’s purpose in bringing us together is to be like Christ. To be one body, made of many parts, living and acting in the world as Jesus lived and acted. Later in this same later to the Ephesians, Paul writes,
[God] himself granted that some are apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming; but speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.
Ephesians 4:11-16
You’re not a dead piece of plastic. You’re not even a solitary light bulb. You are a muscle, you’re a ligament, in the body of Christ. You play a part, not just in making this model of Jesus look good or look accurate, but in living out a shared, Jesus life. We have roles to play here in this church–apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers–so that the saints can be equipped “for the work of ministry.” So that the body keeps being built up. So that more and more bricks get added into the model, more and more ligaments are attached to the frame, until one day, with unity and in the knowledge of the Son of God, the Church might “measure the full stature of Christ.” We might be Jesus in the world. This isn’t something we do abstractly! It’s something we do practically: together, we identify with the lowly, minister to the needy, challenge the haughty, offer grace to the “naughty,” and become living evidence that Christ is Immanuel and “God is with us.”
But why? Why is God’s “perfect plan” to build us into him? Why doesn’t he just do it himself? Why does he choose to need us? If I’m honest, I don’t want him to. I don’t think he should! Because I’m not good enough. I’m not focused enough. Deep down, I think I’m still a “child of wrath”: but God’s plan seems to require that I behave. That I’m content with the place where he puts me, the pieces he attaches me to. But what happens when I’m not so solidly built? When I wiggle loose from my spot? Doesn’t that make God angry? Or at least frustrated? And what happens when we’re a whole church of wiggling pieces? How can any of this ever hold together long enough to accomplish anything in the world? Is this all a fool’s hope?
Sometimes, I think it is. But I’m still here. And I find comfort, when I feel troubled in my soul, in remembering what happens when my kids actually play with their Lego kits: things fall apart. They build them, and pieces come off, and then they build them back again. Bricks end up in the wrong places. Stickers peel off and are put back on upside down. And it’s because they weren’t ever really supposed to be a model. They were supposed to be a toy. Which is to say they exist to be loved. To foster joy. To live, in their own ways.
Yes, you are a light bulb plugged back into life. Yes, we are a body, stitched together in imitation of Christ. Yes, we have a mission in the world to live like him and love like him. But we are also, and finally, God’s beloved children. We carry his image and his heart inside us. We share his spiritual DNA. And in all of this–in our living, in our connectedness, in our work and mission–we are ultimately here to be God’s delight. There is grace for us when we mess up, not because we deserve it, but because God is gracious. There is work for us when we are up for it, not because we’re the best ones to do it, but because God is generous and wants us to taste the life he intends for us.
At the end of the letter we’ve been reading, Paul says,
Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
Ephesians 5:1-2
Jesus is our example not only in his way of living but in his way of giving. He is fully who God intends for him to be. And he is content to be God’s delight, and to reflect, in every possible way, God’s character and heart for the world.
This past year, I did something I’ve wanted to do for a long time: I wrote a book. I’ve mentioned it here before, and I promise I’m not trying to sell it to you! It doesn’t even exist beyond a Google doc on my computer. But one of the strange things about the process of working on it was that, just like I’ve heard other authors say my whole life, my characters really did get away from me. I wrote them, I plotted out their stories, but then–as I kept going–they seemed to acquire wills of their own. They said things I didn’t intend for them to say and did things I didn’t intend for them to do. By the halfway point in my story, I realized I was going to have to rework and replan everything if I was going to keep them inside of things. And so that’s what I did: the book became something I didn’t think it would become, because, well, I fell in love with them… and I realized I would do anything, write anything, so long as it meant seeing them go where they needed to go. So long as it kept them in the story. The whole process became organic, in an odd and unexpected way, and the point stopped being about getting to the end and started to be letting them live… because, ultimately, I was writing a book because I was trying to share who I am, how I feel, with other people. My characters were little windows into that, and by letting them grow, I sensed they were becoming more true… and making my heart more visible.
This isn’t a perfect illustration because, well, I’m not a perfect writer! But what I learned was that being a perfect writer isn’t about having total control, it’s about nurturing life in something. Guiding it and growing it. Our question today was “what is God’s purpose in bringing us together?” I don’t think there’s a singular answer to that: it’s not just to save us from sin, or to build us into a Church on mission (although those things are part of it!). It must also be to cultivate living examples of God’s nature in the world… and God’s nature is loving, and creative, and gracious, and forgiving, and just, and transformative, and good. The thing, though, is that none of those things can exist in a vacuum. They can’t exist on their own: they flourish when people are together.
Maybe this is, in a diverse and complicated and beautiful way, what we’re here for: to be God’s people. Living, connecting, working, loving, forgiving, stretching, and becoming the body of his Son, of Himself, in the world. Together, but not for our own sakes, or even merely the world’s sake, but for his sake: that his children might know him and be known by him. Delight in him, and be sources of his delight.
It’s not the only answer. But it’s a start.
Revolution Words 