John 17:11b

Grace and peace to you from God our father, and from the risen Lord and Savior, Jesus, the Christ.

My wife Lisa and I celebrated our 27^th wedding anniversary this past Friday. It was very romantic. We left the suburbs and went into the big city of Manch-Vegas, to an intimate little place I like to call the Verizon Center. There we held hands and toasted each other with large sodas, as we watched—not a concert by Streisand or Josh Groban or even Yanni—but an arena football game, with some of the confirmands and their mentors seated next to us!

Well, I thought it was a good idea for something to do on our anniversary. I guess that’s because—as I’ve said before—we’re very different, Lisa and I. She and I have our own individual sense of taste and style, our own likes and dislikes. But that doesn’t mean she can’t persuade me to go shoe shopping with her—which I abhor. Or, that I can’t talk her into, say, eating a bologna and pickle relish sandwich—or attending an obscure sporting event on our anniversary for that matter. Twenty seven years have taught us to be pliable, to give a little.

That’s how Lisa got her Wii. She wanted one, and I thought it trendy, expensive, and a waste of time. [For those of you who don’t know, a Wii is a computer gaming system. Its name isn’t spelled as it sounds it’s W- i – i. (Should be wha-aye-aye)] So she held off, while never giving up trying to get me on board. Eventually I realized that, in this case “resistance was futile,” so Lisa got her Wii.

Now, I’m told that such negotiating isn’t a part of every marriage. The bible says, that in marriage, the two become one—but I’ve come to realize that that’s less like pouring two cups of water into a pitcher, and more like moving two twin beds together—the one-ness is hard to achieve and imperfect at best.

Being one is tough and takes a lot of practice. And similar to its role in marriage, one-ness is both important and difficult to maintain in other social situations. In school. On softball teams. At work. On the Wii. And certainly in the religious arena as well. The Church struggles with unity on a daily basis.

In today’s gospel, Jesus prays, “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they might be one, as we are one.”

And we think, “One?” Us? We’re supposed to be one? Us? The same folks who took the Christian Church from its harmonious origins in post-Pentecost home churches, and the monolithic unity of the Catholic church, to the schismatic rendering of the church East from West, to the Roman church’s sloughing off of the reformers and their adherents, to the subsequent proliferation of Protestant denominations, to an almost personalized entity that is self-created with all our individual preferences and opinions therein—we—we are to be one?

From all the wrangling over theology, you’d think unity in the Church would be little more than a well-intentioned dream—noble, but unattainable. For one thing, there’s all these “denominations” floating about, each with their own take on theological reality, and they just disagree with one another—sometimes passionately. Witness that denominational spitting contest in this exchange between a southern Catholic church and its Presbyterian neighbor. It takes place completely on the signs on the respective church’s front lawns.

The Catholics - All dogs go to heaven.

The Presbyterians – Only humans go to heaven, read the bible.

The Catholics – God loves all of his creations, dogs included.

The Presbyterians – Dogs don’t have souls. This is not open for debate.

Catholic dogs go to heaven. Presbyterian dogs can talk to their Pastor.

Converting to Catholicism does not magically grant your dog a soul.

Free dog souls with conversion.

Dogs are animals. There aren’t any rocks in heaven either.

All rocks go to heaven.

Silly, but a good example of how the simplest of disagreements can keep God’s people apart. They all cling tightly to their unique, denominational outlooks, and push away those who see things differently. And all this wrangling isn’t just between religions or denominations, but within church bodies themselves. Hence this joke from the UK:

I was walking across a bridge one day, and saw a old man standing on the edge, about to jump. I ran over and said: “Stop. Don’t do it.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked.

“Well, there’s so much to live for!”

“Like what?”

“Are you religious?”

He said: “Yes.”

I said: “Me too. Are you Christian or Buddhist?”

“Christian.”

“Me too. Are you Catholic or Protestant?”

“Protestant.”

“Me too. Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”

“Baptist.”

“Wow. Me too. Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?”

“Baptist Church of God.”

“Me too. Are you original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist church of God?”

“Reformed Baptist Church of God.”

“Me too. Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1879, or reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915?”

He said: “Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915.”

I said: “Die, heretic swine,” and pushed him off .

Lutherans aren’t immune from that kind of “brand loyalty,” either. We have the ELCA, the LCMS, the WELS, not to mention a few other lesser known acronyms, and they don’t all share communion with each other because of their perceived differences.

This “us and them” mentality occurs at the synod, the conference, and the local church levels just as predictably. There’s things that we just disagree on. From the color of the carpeting in the sanctuary, to the style of the music at worship, to contemporary social issues—we each have our own ideas and understanding of how law and gospel do or don’t intersect with those ideas.

Now, very often these opinions are based on personal preference, but just as many times they are backed up by scripture, responsibly interpreted, but sometimes by different people and yielding totally different insights. Which results in a polarity of bound consciences—two sides to an issue, neither of which is able to back down from their position.

What a dilemma! I blame good old Martin Luther and his “Here I stand, I can do no other!” thing. And also, in cases of social issues that we disagree upon, the gospel of John’s somewhat ambiguous designation of Christ’s followers being “in the world,” but not “of the world” which by some standards makes any perceived cultural accommodation automatically invalid—that doesn’t help either.

So, are we doomed, this side of the second coming of Christ, not to be one, not to have unity, to live as God’s peoples instead of God’s people?

The answer to that question is “yes.” If by “one” you mean all think and act alike, have the same opinions, perceive God in the exact same ways, and discern God’s will identically—then, yes, we are doomed to fragmentation on many levels. But if we look at what Jesus says in his prayer, and take it to heart, I believe that we can be “one” – in a way that both celebrates our unity, and honors our individuality. Because Jesus doesn’t say we should laugh alike, and walk alike and sometime even talk alike. He prays that the Father would protect us in his name, that we might be one, as they are one. As they are one. The Father and Jesus. That is the model for our “one-ness.”

Now, earlier, I used the metaphor of marriage to comment on how earthly unity is best viewed as “the sum being greater than its parts,” rather than the loss of individual identity. Lisa and I are married and that relationship doesn’t require that one of us, or each of us, surrenders our individuality. Instead the relationship is such that we are stronger as two together—more able to withstand life’s rough spots, enjoy life’s goodness, and discern God’s pathway for each of us.

And that’s great—when it works. But it doesn’t always. We have our share of arguments, Lisa and I. We fall short of each other’s expectations and get hurt sometimes. So, although a good marriage is a pretty good illustration of the relationships we are to have one with another as fellow Christians—it has its faults. As does any human relationship we might try to render as a metaphor for that bond.

Which is why Jesus prays for us to be one like he and the Father are one. How are they one? Well, what Jesus casually tosses off in his prayer, the church discussed and debated and wrangled over for centuries. But I’m not going to run through that history today. Nor will I give you the low down on how the Trinity as a whole works. It’s quite complicated and highly nuanced and just a wee bit boring too. Maybe I’ll do that in two weeks, which is Trinity Sunday. (If you’re good.)

For now, suffice it to say, the Father and Jesus are one in their mutuality. So we are to be one together as we mutually relate to one another. Well, that was helpful (not). Let me put it in a framework that’s easier to relate to. The Wii. Wii-lly!

The development of the Wii was unique in that, instead of just taking the current Nintendo gaming system (which was the game cube I think) and boosting its power and memory and making all your other game cartridges obsolete, the designers wanted to do something radically different. So different that the working name for the project was Revolution. The new idea was to go beyond the perspectives of most systems—which viewed the game’s action either from the point of view perspective or the arcade perspective. Revolution would instead immerse the player right into the game—along with a whole social network of people. Their success inspired the name “we” which evolved into the more marketable Wii.

At the core of Wii is the formation of virtual relationships, by creating an avatar, or on-screen caricature of yourself, called (of course) a Mii, and joining in play with other Mii’s, who are either supplied by the system, or by your real-life friends. Play is further revolutionized by wireless game controllers (Wii-motes), which involve players even deeper into the game’s reality having their body movements control the action. The result is an experience that is based more on the relationships between Mii’s and the collective Wii, than it is on individual gain. Which is mutuality.

Likewise, Jesus prays for us to be one in a new way. A revolutionary way that involves mutual love and respect for one another, plus a mutual commitment to God’s purposes in the world. A way that catches us up in our individuality, sanctifies us, and makes of us a people of God, a Wii Church, if you will—solidly unified by our faith in Christ, and deeply immersed in the common mission we are called by God’s Word to enact through service, inclusivity, compassion, solidarity, and love for others.

This unity overarches the differences that, by good or bad intention, divide us. This unity can hold all of our diversity and differences of opinion and hurtfulness and woundedness and not break asunder. For, it is by Christ’s request that it comes into being, it is through the Father’s protection that it is sustained—not our own (thank God), and it is in the relationship of mutuality between the persons of the Trinity that the unity of Christians finds its ground—be they Reformed Baptist Church of God Reformation of 1915, or Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

Diversity was engineered into the creation by God, so our differences shouldn’t surprise or frighten us. There will always be differences between us as Christians. Some are normal everyday disagreements. Some are little things that cause a big stir. Some are big things that threaten our flimsy, human, denominational unity. But they defeat us only if we let the unity we enjoy in mutuality pass unnoticed.

Lord God, Holy Father, help us to see our oneness in you, and not be blind to the unity we share in your Son, Jesus Christ in whose name we pray, AMEN