The Church is a Community of Joy

Chapter 7

From A Little Book on Joy

If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

1 Corinthians 12:26

Once a man said to me, “Pastor, I wouldn’t join that church of yours for anything. They’re all a bunch of hypocrites!” I responded, “True. And there’s always room for one more.” Quite despite itself, its weaknesses, its shortcomings, its mis- takes and sins (and in many ways precisely because of such things), the Church is a community of joy. The secret to living a good news life in a bad news world is learning both to lay down our burdens upon Christ and the gathered community (the Church), and, in turn, to take up the burdens of others gathered there. Luther stated it brilliantly.

Whoever is in despair, distressed by a sin-stricken conscience or terrified by death or carrying some other burden upon his heart, if he would be rid of them all, let him go joyfully to the sacrament of the altar and lay down his woe in the midst of the community and seek help from the entire company of the spiritual body— just as a citizen whose property has suffered damage or misfortune at the hands of his enemies makes complaint to his town council and fellow citizens and asks them for help. The immeasurable grace and mercy of God are given us in this sacrament to the end that we might put from us all misery and tribulation [Anfechtung] and lay it upon the community, and especially on Christ. Then we may with joy find strength and comfort . . . (Luther’s Works, 35:53).

There’s always room for another sinner in church. It’s true that “no man is an island,” and doubly true that we are not meant as Christians to face this life alone. That’s because the Church is a body, the “body of Christ,” as the New Testament repeatedly affirms (Ephesians 4:1ff.). The Word of God comes from outside of us. Christ acted and continues to act outside of us, for us. The Word of God confronts us with a reality quite at odds with any- thing we might stir up within ourselves.

“Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery” (Hebrews 2:14–15). Christ’s Incarnation and Passion are the ultimate “communal events.” He took on the flesh of all humankind, the ultimate participation in the lives of others. Even when faith comes by an individual reading the text of the Scriptures, such faith is not the result of an individual’s self-chosen interaction with a document which conveys historic events. The text of the Scriptures puts us face to face with a person, Jesus Christ, the very Word of God ( John 1:1). To confront the Bible is to confront Christ. “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joint and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:12–13). Encountering Jesus is at the same time the pull toward his body. That body is a community of believers, who gather locally to receive his gifts continually in the word of the Gospel preached by one called by the community, to be absolved, and to receive his body and blood.

One of the many ways the New Testament reveals this truth is by using compound words that include the preposition “with” (in Greek, syn-). These words are almost always plural.

“We were buried together with Christ in baptism . . .” (Romans 6:4).

“We have died together with Christ . . . and we believe we shall also rise together with him . . .” (Romans 6:5–6).

“We are fellow heirs with Christ, and if we have suffered together with him, we shall also be glorified together with him” (Romans 8:17).

“Having been buried together with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him . . .” (Colossians 2:12).

“You have been made alive together with him . . .” (Colossians 2:13).

So it’s no surprise that joy is also found in the plural. The word “they rejoiced together” is found three times in Luke’s Gospel. Elisabeth’s friends and relatives “rejoice together” with her at the birth of John the Baptizer (Luke 1:58). When the lost sheep and the lost coin are found, the friends and neighbors are invited to “rejoice together” (Luke 15:6; 15:9).

In his profound discussion on the Lord’s Supper and its ramifications (making us one body), St. Paul elaborates. “For just as the body is one and has many members . . . so it is with Christ. For we have all been baptized by the one spirit into one body” (1 Corin- thians 12:12). As members of one body, Christ, the members of the Church have lives intertwined by and with Christ. “ You are one body of Christ and with many members. If one members suffers, all suffer together with it. If the one member is glorified, all rejoice together with the one member” (1 Corinthians 12:26). The Church is a community of joy because in it we both share our sufferings (universal because of sin and weakness), and we rejoice with and for one another.

I recall an event which took all of about eight seconds, and it illustrates how the Church lives this corporate life. It didn’t happen in the Church, but it has direct application. On more than one occasion, I’ve laughed out loud traveling past the stadium in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. But I’ve never written about why.

Sioux City (Iowa) East High had nearly finished the 1979–80 football season, undefeated and ranked number one in the state. (The older I get, the better I was.) We were well into our final regular season game, playing Sioux Falls (South Dakota) Lincoln High on their home field, Howard Wood Stadium. The number one teams of South Dakota and Iowa, respectively, both known for powerhouse offenses, were locked in a defensive battle. Well into the third quarter, neither team had scored. We failed to convert on yet another series and had to punt, again. It was getting tense. The conference championship was riding on the game, as well as our playoff placement.

As the team’s center and long-snapper, I must admit, hiking the ball twelve yards to the punter was a task I did not relish (though I also ended up doing it in college while pursuing my major: football). Having both arms, neck, and head thrown upside-down between your legs, with all the force you can muster, is not the optimal position from which to “block” (i.e., defend yourself against the assaults of a defensive nose tackle (or worse, some rabid middle linebacker) whose sole fourth-down goal in life was to make the center’s life miserable on such occasions. (The rules have since changed.) Well, I don’t recall what got into me, but something went horribly wrong. I knew it the split second the ball left my hands.

I vividly recall that fraction of a second, peering through my legs at the inverted vision of the punter leaping into the air, one hand extended as far as possible to field the snap. It was no use. It wasn’t even close. The ball flew at least ten feet over his outstretched arm. My attention reverted to my immediate nose tackle problem as I heard the defense scream with banshee delight. A golden opportunity unfolded in milliseconds before them. The crowd gasped, cringed and screamed for delight (though opposing sides in differing order) within a few seconds. But for a set of better than average sphincter muscles, my stomach would have been dropped at the forty yard line.

I stayed with the nose tackle briefly, then turned to see the punter and quarterback, Bob Larson, scramble back, pick up the ball, dodge a tackle or two, and proceed to throw a pass to our tight end who, had run an impromptu pattern. Miraculously, the pass was caught for a first down. A few more plays, and we managed to score, but failing on the extra point. We went on to win the game 6-0.

As long as I live, I’ll never forget the scream of the head football coach, Terry Stevens, through his clenched teeth, the muscles in his head, jaw, and neck so tight that “H-A-R-R-I-S-O-N!!!” echoed from his pursed lips with tremolo and saliva as the offense ran to the sidelines. He never said another word. He didn’t have to.

I learned something. The fault had been all mine—all mine, as was more than obvious to everyone. The team quickly adjusted, altered the plan, and acted on instinct. They not only compen- sated for my error, they turned it into an opportunity for joy. That was a great team. As a husband, a father, a pastor, a churchman, I often “snap it high,” and great folks around me cover and even turn my mistakes for good. And perhaps even more importantly, when others “snap,” often egregiously so, I find myself thinking about how I’ve been in the same boat, or easily could be and will be, and I’m ready to scramble and cover others’ weaknesses. That’s what it is to live mercifully and the secret to living joyously in the community of the church and family, amidst the mishaps and mis- takes of life.

Bonhoeffer depicts the Church, our community of joy, in a much more compelling way.

As Christ bore with us and accepted us as sinners, so we in his community may bear with sinners and accept them into the community of Jesus Christ through the forgiveness of sins. We may suffer the sins of one another; we do not need to judge. That is grace for Christians. For what sin ever occurs in the community that does not lead Christians to examine themselves and condemn themselves for their own lack of faithfulness in prayer and in intercession, for their lack of service to one another in mutual admonition and comforting, indeed, for their own personal sin and lack of spiritual discipline by which they have harmed themselves, the community and one another? Because each individual’s sin burdens the whole community and indicts it, the community of faith rejoices amid all the pain afflicted on it by the sin of the other and, in spite of the burdens placed on it, rejoices in being deemed worthy of bearing with and forgiving sin. “Behold, you bear with them all and likewise all of them bear with you, and all things are in common, both the good and the bad” (Luther). [Bonheoffer, Life Together (Fortress, 2005), 102]