Fifth Sunday of Easter
May 7, 2023

I Believe... in the Holy Catholic Church

A Sermon Series on the Apostles' Creed

Shannon J. Kershner
Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 4
Ephesians 2:11–22

Inside these walls, Freedom come. Freedom come. Inside these walls, Freedom come. Freedom come. Come one and all. Freedom come. Freedom come. Come one and all. Freedom come. Freedom come. Bring your anger. Pray it away. Pray it away. Pray it away. Bring your hatred. Sing it away. Sing it away. Sing it away. Bring your sorrow. Pray it away. Pray it away. Pray it away. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Freedom come. Freedom come.

That is one of my very favorite choral anthems, and if I had been organized, I would have let John know before this Sunday. It is an anthem about what it means not just to be in worship but to be church. The living, breathing body of Christ where the Spirit blows and flows, confronts and comforts, inspires and conspires with all of us as we seek to be faithful and to be, as our Book of Order puts it, an exhibition of the kingdom of heaven for the world.

We are nearing the end of our series on the Apostles’ Creed, and today’s phrase is “I believe … in the holy catholic church.” Now, just as we did when we studied “the quick and the dead,” let’s go ahead and talk about what we mean when we say “catholic.” When I used to teach new member classes, that was always one of the questions I was asked: why do we say we believe in the catholic church, assuming that meant the Roman Catholic church, with the pope and the Vatican. But while the Roman Catholic church is certainly an expression of Christianity, that is not what we mean when we use this word catholic.

Rather, the term in Greek means “throughout the whole.” As scholar Luke Timothy Johnson states, “As applied in the creed to the church, it means both a universality of extent and an inclusiveness that embraces differences within a larger unity. …The catholic church is the one that exists everywhere, rather than simply in one place” (Luke Timothy Johnson, The Creed). So when we say we believe in the holy catholic church, we are claiming that we trust that the living body of Jesus Christ is alive and well in all kinds of places and in all kinds of congregations, cathedrals, and church plants — large and small — and that together we all embody the church of Jesus Christ.

And yes, all the schisms and denominations and splits and fighting throughout the last two thousand years have certainly diminished that witness of unity in Christ, but when it comes down to it, Jesus our Christ is the head of all of it, of all of us. That is what we mean when we say “I believe in the holy catholic church.” It means we trust that, despite all the ways we continue to divide ourselves, in the beauty of the power of the Holy Spirit we are all still made one, whether we like it or not.

As Paul states in the passage from Ephesians that we just heard, Christ is our peace. The dividing wall, the hostility between us, has already been broken down and destroyed. This is not an optional reality one can or cannot choose. It has happened. And our call, as part of that new reality, that new creation called church, is to learn how to live that way with each other so we can demonstrate that promise to the world.

Here is how the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu once put it: Wall-breaching activity is why we Christians are here. The church is to be the Word visible, an audiovisual aid for the world. The place where all the walls come down and all people are accepted and included and loved simply because they are accepted and included and loved by Jesus. No ifs, ands, or buts. No votes need to be taken. “I believe in the holy catholic church” — the living, breathing body of Christ in this world who is a provisional demonstration of that promise of God.

Now, if you don’t mind, I want to switch gears and spend some time talking with you about why I not only believe in the holy catholic church but why I believe in the promise of Fourth Church, this particular congregation, this particular audiovisual aid for the world, and why I have been so deeply grateful to be your pastor for the last nine years. And yes, I know my last sermon with you will be on May 28, but this day, this text, this part of the creed provides me the space to tell you why I love you. To offer you my testimony, to let you know what I see in you.

I started this sermon by singing that choral anthem that talks about church being a place, a community, in which we are all invited to be just who we are, where we are all invited to bring in our anger, our burdens, our hatred, our victories, our joy, our sorrow — all of it, trusting that in God, we will we not only be received but transformed. Transformed in this act of weekly worship, yes, but also transformed in our living out our lives together as a faith community.

And over these last nine years I have seen us try to be that for each other and for the people who come into our midst. One of our newest members told a longtime congregation member that she is so glad to be here at Fourth Church because it is so welcoming and warm and she can just be herself. She comes and she can just exhale. That testimony tells me we indeed do what we can to live out William Sloane Coffin’s truism that as long as our hearts are one in Christ, our minds don’t have to be.

But let’s also be honest: Over these last nine years, it has not been easy. From the run up to the 2016 presidential election and everything that followed, including the Me Too movement; to the uprisings after the murder of George Floyd and the increased prominence of Black Lives Matter; to learning how to function during a global pandemic; to living in all the beauty and brokenness of this city of Chicago — I know for a fact that we have had a hard time staying community through some of those difficult moments.

Some folks felt called to leave. Others felt called to join in. It has been an evolving mixture. And add to all those moments of crisis the fact that about six or so years ago, your Session courageously began a commitment to becoming an anti-racist institution and to double down on our support and active inclusion of people of all sexual orientations and gender identities.

Plus, guess what: y’all as a faith community are way more diverse in your political, theological, socioeconomic, and ethnic identities than you might think from our reputation. And yet, Sunday after Sunday, Bible study after Bible study, Bag Lunch service after Bag Lunch service, meeting after meeting we have continued to do all we can to practice what I say at every baptism. which is to live out the reality that the truest truth of who we are is that we are some of God’s beloved ones, but not just us — all people are God’s beloved ones, as well.

And living out those baptismal claims has required us to learn how to create brave space and to have courageous conversations. It has required us to learn how to listen first without immediately thinking about our response and turning it into a debate. It has required us to practice daily what Paul claims in this passage from Ephesians: that “the church is essentially a place where differences are [to be] reconciled. [And that] our mission [as part of the holy catholic church] is to embody this reconciliation in our … life as church. … [In this letter to the church in Ephesus, as well as in so many others], Paul suggests that [our] entire mission [as church] is to provide an alternative way of life, one measured by the ‘new human’ who is Jesus, and one that grows through inclusion and reciprocity, rather than exclusion [and hoarding]” (Luke Timothy Johnson, The Creed).

Yet I testify to you that, more often than not, we are doing our best to live out that mission. We are doing our best to be an alternative to all the enmity, the division, and the hostility that surrounds us and fills the air we breathe out in our larger national culture. Do you know how I know that? This past week I read the faith statements of our confirmands, some of the newest members of our church. Almost every single one of them spoke about this particular faith community called Fourth Church as being a place, a community of people, in which they have felt loved, seen, valued, challenged, and nourished.

Almost every single one of them spoke of this congregation as one in which they know they can have questions, doubts, affirmations, hold a different point of view than others, and yet one in which they will be welcomed in all of it. They wrote how they know deep down that they will be allowed to be just who they are. If only every child, every young person, had that kind of inclusive experience of church.

I am telling you that demonstration of the wide embrace of God is some of what the Spirit of God is doing here, through all of you, as you keep practicing opening yourselves up for that kind of holy transformation and allowing it to reshape your lives and the collective life of this place. You take seriously the charge we give to new members — the charge to not only take the time to inhale the grace of God within the life of this congregation, but the charge to also exhale that same grace, that same claim of God, for others who might not know it or who might not feel it. Every time we do those things together, we are indeed embodying a demonstration of the household, the kingdom of God, for the world. It is countercultural living.

As Princeton seminary professor Sally Brown once wrote,

“The church is a demonstration plot for the new humanity brought about by God’s reconciling work in Jesus Christ. To be the church is to be a people who respond to God’s work with joy and praise, who display something of what God intends for all humanity in their common life. The church is called to provide an alternative to the cultures of enmity at work in the world. It is to be a community that resists efforts to build up again those walls of division and enmity that Christ has broken down. It is to be a place of hospitality to the stranger, a place of peaceable difference. It is to be put God’s work and cause on display.” (Sally Brown, Feasting on the Gospel)

I see this kind of holy community in you, in the staff you have called to serve alongside you, in the leadership you elect from this congregation each year. It is one reason why I am not fearful for the future of Fourth Presbyterian Church. For while we are far from perfect, you are a people on the Way. And you take the claims of your faith, the challenge to be a part of the holy catholic church, seriously.

It is amazing, really. For it does not fit within our larger cultural narrative that would much rather split us up and keep us apart. But it is who we are, it is who you are. And yes, it will remain a challenge to keep summoning the kind of courage it takes to live this identity out in a culture that prefers to nurture enmity and hostility. It will remain a challenge to live as a congregation, as part of Christ’s body, as an outpost of the holy catholic church who works hard to live out unity, not uniformity; who takes the time and spends the energy to actively embody a community of peaceable difference, rather than an attitude of “you are for us or against us.”

And yet, dear friends, you know how to do it. I have seen it. I have lived it amongst you. It is a part of who you are, and I trust it will continue on as you move into this next season. So yes. I believe in the holy catholic church. And I also believe deeply in the promise of the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago, inside whose walls the Spirit of God continues to move, to provoke, to inspire, to conspire, to fill, and to lead as this congregation faithfully moves into the future that God holds, into the freedom for all that God promises is on the way.

So as I begin to move towards taking my leave, please know that I love you. I am thankful for you. I have learned much from you. You have indeed been church for me. And I have no doubt that you will continue to be that for each other and for this world who desperately needs it. Amen.

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church