"Released by Love from isolating wrong
Let us for Love unite our various song;
Each with his gift according to his kind
Bringing this Child his body and his mind."
(W.H. Auden, For the Time Being)

You may be aware of the recent media flap about some churches which have decided not to hold Sunday services today, Christmas. Various reasons are given, the one most often mentioned is that most people will attend Service on Christmas Eve so should be encouraged to stay home with their families on Christmas day. "The San Diego Union Tribune" carried a brief article in which a couple of ministers were quoted. One said, "Christmas falls on Sunday every so often and he figures doing two or three services in two days is a test of his agility." Another pastor said "his church is always open on Sunday - period." ("Our World/Christmas," "The San Diego Union Tribune," Thursday, December 22, 2005, p.E-1)

One of the mega-churches is giving all congregants a video tape of the Christmas story to be enjoyed at home rather than coming to the Church for Sunday Service today. That reminded me of a book published a few years ago entitled, "Bowling Alone" by Robert Putnam. Subtitle of the book is: "The Collapse and Revival of American Community." Putnam uses an example from bowling, noting that in the 1950's people joined bowling teams or leagues. More recently people bowl alone.

Every Sunday when we gather for worship we hear the words of James Luther Adams, "Church is where we get to practice what it means to be human." Seems to me an essential part of being human is being in community, not "bowling alone."

I may be overstating the case to suggest that giving people a video to watch at home is not as helpful as meeting with other people in worship. My concern is community. The Reading for today deals with this concern of isolation versus community. In Auden's poetic words both the Shepherds and Wise Men are released from their isolation by Love. The Shepherds have been isolated by routine: "(We have) walked a thousand miles yet only worn the grass between our work and home away." The isolation of the Wise Men has been their limited imagination. Both find community in admiration at the birth of a child.

As you know I have been using W.H. Auden's free verse poem, "For the Time Being" as the setting for sermons this month. Auden calls his poem a "Christmas Oratorio." It tells the story of the birth of Jesus, but with a difference; all the legendary characters have counterparts in the twentieth century. The poem moves back and forth, using cultural images from both the first and twentieth centuries.

I began the series with Auden's complaint that we may have lost our humanity: "To discover how to be human now is the reason we follow this star." Like Pinocchio we are alienated from our best selves. Like Alice in Wonderland we are sometimes not sure who we are. The message of Hanukkah and Christmas is that we can reclaim our personhood.

Then a couple of weeks ago I talked about how we may misuse our freedom using Auden's couplet: "Lost in (our) freedom we pursue the shadow of (our) images." Too often we allow our freedom to become license through failure of internal or self-discipline. Or, we may give our freedom away through ennui, apathy, or conformity The story of Hanukkah is the story of freedom found.

Today, Auden provides a hope-filled response to the possibility of individualism run amok becoming isolation. Auden says we are "released by Love" so that we may "through Love unite our various song(s)." He does not suggest that we give up our individuality, our particular "song," rather that we unite our songs through the power of loving community.

I can almost hear the chorus: "Yes, Reverend, that sounds good but what does it mean? You've given us too much poetry; give us some prosaic suggestions." Thanks for asking; here goes!

What I believe Auden is saying and what I hope to say is that we human beings can be part of a loving community which not only cares for one another but for the wider world. I am speaking about religious community. There is a marvelous illustration of what I'm speaking about in Wendell Berry's novel, "Jayber Crow."

Jayber had been the town barber, until a freeway isolated the town. So he became the janitor of the local church. Jaybe notes the difference between being part of a "church" and part of a "community." Here are Berry's words:

"(Jayber says), My vision of the gathered church that had come to me
after I became the janitor had been replaced by a vision of the gathered
community. What I saw now was the community imperfect and
irresolute but held together by the frayed and always fraying, incomplete
and yet ever-holding bonds of the various sorts of affection. There had
maybe never been anybody who had not been loved by somebody, who
had been loved by somebody else, and so on and on. . . ." (Wendell Berry,
"Jayber" Crow, p.205)

To be sure there are varieties of religious communities - some good, some not so good. When I speak about religious community I am not talking about a creedal community where individuals find one another through confirmation of a set system of beliefs. That type community limits our humanity; our ability to think for ourselves.

Sometimes the pendulum swings from creedal conformity to self-actualization. Unfortunately self-actualization can too quickly become self-sufficiency which is simply a more sophisticated form of isolation. Self-actualization is fine so long as it includes the actualized self working with other actualized selves for the common weal.

There are various other types of religious communities which seem to me to be negative or limiting. The pietistic community may be good for helping us learn to engage in mystical reflection, but may also call us into the womb of prayer as an escape from engagement with the world. The establishment religious community may be so identified with the culture that there is hesitancy to question the culture.

While each of these communities may have some helpful aspects, I do not believe we are "released by Love" from our isolation for communities such as these. What then? I suggest a community characterized by Donald Miller of Stanford as one which encourages a "holy dialectic;" a continuing and welcome dialogue between individuals and the community. Here's how Miller describes this community:

"It is the community that saves us from the excesses of private fantasy.
And it is the community that needs our pronouncements, our prophetic
utterances, our correction." (Donald Miller, "The Case for Liberal Christianity," p.53)

In other words this type community provides correction for the individual while at the same time remaining open to correction of the community by the individual. It is a community where individuals may bring themselves and their ideas for continuing reflection and enrichment.

This community is never exclusive. Robert Putnam distinguishes a "bridging" from a "bonding" community. The former, "bridging" community builds bridges between people. In comparison the "bonding" community tends to be exclusive. Putnam says bonding communities ". . . reinforce exclusive identities and homogenous groups" while "bridging" communities encompass people across diverse social cleavages." (Robert Putnam, "Bowling Alone," p.22)

Inclusive communities are those which help the individual members engage in some purpose greater than the community itself. I read somewhere a great quotation from Bruno Bettelheim: "The only viable or flourishing community is one which is involved in a purpose outside itself. . . ."

That does not mean individuals with their individual gifts must become subservient to the community's purpose. The best analogy is that of a symphony orchestra. The various members - instrumentalists - of an orchestra all have lives apart from their participation in the symphony.

When we lived in New Jersey the principle French Horn player of the New York Philharmonic was related to our Congregation. His work with the Philharmonic required only part of his time. He also gave lessons, did solo performances, worked with chamber music groups, and of course spent hours in private practice. However - and this is an important however - finally he came together with the other members of the orchestra to provide beautiful symphonic music in Avery Fisher Hall. The only way a symphony orchestra maintains its "orchestraness" is by what the individual members do together.

If we are "released by Love" from our isolation to "unite our various song" we are a community which not only protects individuality of each member, but which also brings individuals together for a purpose which is external to that of being a community.

Perhaps there is a better word than community; how about company. The word, company, is from the Latin cum panis meaning "with bread." A company is persons who share bread; who eat together. The original use of the word company seems to have come from the Middle Ages. It designated a group of people who shared the bread provided by a feudal chieftain by whom they were recruited and to whose cause they were committed.

My sense, after being with you for these four months, is that this Congregation is a "company" of bread-sharers united in loving commitment not only to one another but to the wider community. The Love which has released individuals to be part of this Community is strong enough to endure disagreement. The love which binds us into this company is one which calls us not only to self-actualization but to service.

One important characteristic of the Love which helps us "unite our various song" is that this Congregation - this Company - this Community can become a kind of compass-point to help each of us find our way through both good times and bad.

In her book "Traveling Mercies," Anne Lamott tells the sometimes pathetic, sometimes joyful story of her journey from the loss of humanity and freedom symbolized by the worst excesses of the sixties. She found a religious community where grace was more important than law; where her humanity was celebrated even though flawed. That religious community became a turning point in her life, from narcotics and alcohol addiction to a productive life. Anne Lamott tells why that religious community is so significant. Then she relates the following story:

"(A little girl) was lost one day. The little girl ran up and down the streets
of the big town where she lived, but couldn't find a single landmark. She
was very frightened. Finally a policeman stopped to help her. He put her
in the passenger seat of his squad car, and they drove around until she saw
her church. She pointed it out to the policeman, and then told him firmly,
‘You can let me out now. This is my church and I can always find my
way home from here'." (Anne Lamott, "Traveling Mercies," pl.55)

The freedom and love of this season of Hanukkah and Christmas call us from our isolation to community; calls us from deadening routine and from narrow-mindedness to exercise our individuality in a "song" of care for one another and for the culture in which we find ourselves.

This Congregation has been a four-month "Christmas present" to Betty and Me. You have accepted us, thereby releasing us to share our song with you. Your love will be long remembered as we find our way into retirement. Your strength is that you are a community where people can find their way home.

Thank you. Shalom. Salaam. Blessed Be. and Amen.

Readings for the Service, December 25, 2005

The Shepherds speak:
"We never left the place where we were born
Have only lived one day, but every day,
Have walked a thousand miles yet only worn
The grass between our work and home away.
Tonight for the first time the prison gates have opened
Music and sudden light have interrupted our routine tonight.

The Wise Men Speak:
"Child at whose birth we would do obsequy
For our tall errors of imagination,
Redeem our talents with your little cry.
Love is more serious than philosophy
Who sees no humor in her observation
That truth is knowing that we know we lie."

The Shepherds and Wise Men Speak:
"Released by love from isolating wrong
Let us for love unite our various song,
Each with his gift according to his kind
Bringing this Child his body and his mind."
(W.H. Auden, "For the Time Being")