The following is the text of the sermon preached Wednesday, July 2, by Judith Kipp. The text was submitted to the Annual Conference Office in mid-June and may have been modified for the actual presentation. Judith Kipp Focus: Count Well the Cost of Community Title: "Not to be Trifled With" Scripture: Acts 2:37-47, 5:1-11; Ephesians 2:18-20 1997 Church of the Brethren Annual Conference Long Beach, California, July 2, 1997 Count well the cost of community. Ah...community! We in the church have carried on a love affair with the concept of community. We name congregations "Community Church." We talk about "belonging" and enthuse how everyone feels "at home." Community means everyone feels loved and is loving. We are inclusive -- mostly. And we always get along well. Ah yes, community. We love to love community. I personally can lay claim to being among those who have spoken euphorically about community over the years. You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I'm a "child of the sixties!" Those of us who were trying to grow up into adulthood then, and there are so many of us dominating the demographics of denominations all across this country, we had a special hankering for community and dabbled in experiments of communal living. Now, I'm not talking about the stereotypes of "communes" with group hot-tub sessions, open marriage and the free-to-be-you-and-me version that was associated with such centers of 60s hippiedom as Southern California. No, I'm talking about Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, home of Mennonites and radical Brethren who were serious minded, biblically based and frankly idealistic. In fact, if you know anything about Jim and I personally, you will know that we lived on a farm in Lancaster County for seventeen years in an intentional community we formed with the Weaver family. We made commitments to each other that were legal and financial. I have wondered if part of the reason for inviting me to speak on Counting Well the Cost of Community has to do with my own history of involvement in that experiment. Community is near and dear to us all, as it should be because it is a central concept of, not only the Church of the Brethren, but the whole of Christianity. Community is basic to Judaism. Paul Hanson, who wrote a book on the growth of community in the, Bible calls community, "the tender art of living in together." (Paul D. Hanson, "The People Called: The Growth of Community in the Bible," Harper and Row, p. 1) He tells us biblical record "presents a rich pageant of life in community," full of saga, poetry, history and wisdom that cover the whole range of human emotions and experiences. Hanson declares that the answer to the riddle of life presented in the Bible is that "There is no life that is not in community. And no community not lived in praise of God." (Ibid.) Were we to do a word study on biblical concepts of community, we would not get very far. Surely, a certain amount of community consciousness is present in the vocabulary of the Bible. But, actually, much of our understanding of community comes not from specific words (which are infrequent), but from the repeated encounters with God by a group of believers. (Ibid., p. 8) Again and again, a people meet up headlong with the creative community-forming power of God's presence in the world and become the people of God. It is in the recounting of this heritage and these lessons of "the tender art of living together" that we can begin to understand for ourselves the cost as well as the joy of community. What better place to start than to begin with chapter two of the writing we call Acts! Acts 2 describes Pentecost, that day on the ecclesiastical calendar we celebrate as the birth of the Christian church. Our reading for this evening from Acts 2 begins after all the excitement of Pentecost -- after the miracles of speaking and hearing; after Peter's moving sermon; after the crowd's eager response. Often we think that's all Pentecost is about -- the excitement and enthusiasm. But it's after all the wonderful, audible evidence of Pentecost, we get down to the heart of the matter. And the heart of Pentecost is community. The gospel comes to life through the Holy Spirit and that life is the formation of community. The enthusiasm Pentecost is that the gospel is embodied in "the tender of art of living together." (Ibid., p. 39) Immediately after we are told that "about three thousand persons were added," Luke gets right down to the business of being community. Verse 42 tells us: "They devoted themselves to teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers." Four key aspects of community are succinctly spelled out: teaching, fellowship, breaking bread and prayers. I particularly like the way Paul Hanson describes the value of the apostles' teaching relative to Pentecost: "The church is not to drift from one momentary emotional outburst to the next, to resuscitate Pentecost on a weekly basis; rather the church moves immediately to the task of teaching, keeping itself straight about what it is and what it is to be about." (Ibid., p. 40) As for fellowship -- this is the aspect we 60s children were so fond of as we formed our communities. Koinonia, fellowship, is not to be confused with the warm, fuzzy togetherness of brotherly, sisterly love. It goes beyond the bonds of conventional friendship. This fellowship is about sharing resources. It may safely be said that fellowship is indeed one of the greatest of the miracles of Pentecost! The text tells us "all who believed were together and had all things in common." Back in the 70s it was the idea of sharing resources was often the motivating factor for the formation of communities. That is how we defined ourselves. When I say we were biblically based, this is the text that comes most readily to mind. We were attracted to this aspect of community. It is this aspect of community that we'll be considering further when we get to the episode of Ananias and Sapphira. The early church embodied Jesus' injunction to the young man to sell all and give to the poor. It was reminiscent of Zaccheus, who once he was saved, gave half of all that he had. In Acts 2, a whole new community does the same. This was not some once and done emotional response borne on some brief wave of enthusiasm. People committed themselves to living a new way. The third expression of community, the breaking of bread is another tangible, real, evidence of the work of the Spirit among the new community. Remember that throughout Luke's gospel, dinner-time with Jesus is not only fellowship, it is revelation and controversy. "This man receives sinners and eats with them." (Luke 15:2) You recognize the importance of being "at table." It goes back to Jewish tradition -- the table is a holy place and eating together a sacred activity. Every meal we eat can be full of thanksgiving -- a eucharist. Every meal we share provides the promise of the great banquet to which we are all invited. And finally, Pentecost gave way to prayers. Even with the arrival of newness through the Holy Spirit, the community does not neglect the traditions of prayer. Acts 2:42 states the four activities of community that resulted from the infusing of the Holy Spirit. Additional verses expand on these four themes and end with the absolutely positive description of the new church who had "glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number..." "Awe came upon everyone..." Hold that ideal of community in mind as we move to chapter five. And remember, if chapter two is ideal, chapter five is real. I want to say a brief word about COST -- Count well the COST of community. The first dictionary definition of COST refers to financial commitments and only secondly other kinds of expenditures. When I tried to tell my former New Testament professor that we really could just as well delete this story from the canon because, after all, "it IS a nasty tale" and "besides Ananias and Sapphira are never mentioned anywhere else," Bob Weber quickly reminded me that "On the contrary, Luke-Acts uses the theme of possessions and our relationship to them as external evidence of our inward faith." (Or something like that.) The difficulty that Ananias and Sapphira run up against is exactly a problem of possession. What do you think: is this a good stewardship text? I believe it was in a group of pastors, who often have, as you know, a warped sense of humor. One quipped that he was considering preaching a sermon with the title, "Coming Out of the Closet." It would be on stewardship. Ananias and Sapphira are real people. They are a whole lot like us. They probably expected the "Don't Ask-Don't Tell" policy. But Peter -- bold Peter -- enlivened by the Holy Spirit Peter -- ASKS a direct question. He asks Ananias about his recent property transaction. Peter gives Ananias a chance to undo what he has done and come clean. But Ananias allows himself to be deceived. Peter wonders aloud, "Why are you lying?" When it's Sapphira's turn to answer, and we women especially are rooting for HER to be honest, the deception continues. And so Peter has to pronounce a prophetic word. "Look, the feet of those who have buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out." Peter words to Sapphira are rather poetic, I think. And yet, definitely graphic. "Look, the feet of those who have buried your husband are at the door..." I heard about a sermon preached by Walter Bruggemman on this text from Acts 5. Instead of comparing chapters two and five as we are doing this evening, he compared the Ananias and Sapphira story to the event in Acts 3 -- the healing the man lame from birth. It tells us that when Peter healed the man, Peter "took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong. Jumping up, he stood and began to walk, and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God." (Acts 3:3-4) The feet in chapter three are lively, dancing, walking feet. They are the feet of a person praising God and they lead all the people to recognize the power of the Holy Spirit. But the feet in chapter five are the feet of a funeral march. Peter tells Sapphira to look at the feet of those at the door. He lets her know she will do no dancing and leaping and cavorting. She will be unable to offer her praise and worship. It is too late. It is the slow cadence of a funeral procession for her instead. We may think these are dire consequences over a piece of property and a little desire to get ahead. Friends, COST is not only about money and possessions, but do not be misled. COST unmistakably is about money. We cannot avoid it. Our material wealth and what we do with it has import for us that can mean the difference between life and death. This tale of Ananias and Sapphire is so real. They are so like us. They sought security in the wrong place. They misplaced the allegiance they owed to God and gave their loyalty to getting and grasping for themselves. They are like us. They lived a lie. They were in denial. I know you've heard it. Maybe you've even said it. I call IT "poor talk." It runs along lines such as, "Oh, but I don't really make that much." Or, "We both have to work just to make ends meet." "I can't possibly give any more than I am already." Ananias and Sapphira are real, like us. They were looking for life in all the wrong places. Where do you seek it? Maybe not possessions, but how about position. Or maybe posterity -- leave it to the kids so you won't be forgotten; or leave it to an institution who will name a building after you (until the time comes to change it in favor of the next large donor). We can chase after so very many things -- for me and MY family -- that are not life-enhancing. Yes, Ananias and Sapphira are like us. They sought life through wealth and ended up poverty-stricken. They were dying to get ahead, but they were lost in spiritual poverty. By being tight-fisted instead of open-handed, they lost their grip on life. Empty, open hands are able to touch others, to give aid, to be held in community. Grasping hands can hold nothing more. They can do nothing more. Only empty, open hands are lively. Tight-fisted hands are static and immovable. Dead hands. Ananias and Sapphira feared for their own financial well-being instead of fearing God. And in the process they lost everything -- including life. Instead of awe for God, they lost it all. We need this story of Ananias and Sapphira. In writing it down for dear Theophilus, Luke presents a realistic picture of the early community. This is not some idealized, romanticized version. These are real people who are pulled by the same temptations that tug at us. This story is about us. It is about our congregations back home. It is about this congregation gathered in this great hall. Whenever we meet together, we meet both the faithful and the foolish. We meet those who chose life and those who give in to death. We need this story and we need to lament for Ananias and Sapphira. They died without experiencing the truth of community. We need to lament for ourselves for all the times that getting and grasping outdistances our giving and generosity. And that applies to the many things we try to grasp, not merely or only possessions. What Ananias and Sapphira failed to grasp was the "tender art of living together." Ananias and Sapphira trifled with the truth. They trifled with God. They trifled with the community. But the gospel truth is not to be trifled with. "There is no life that is not in community. And no community not lived in praise of God." Count well the cost... of community. Judith Kipp is pastor of Ridgeway Community Church of the Brethren, Harrisburg, Pa. To order an audio tape ($4.95) or a video tape ($15.95) of this sermon, contact Brethren Press at 800 323-8039 or at Brethren.Press.parti@Ecunet.Org