Sunday 7 May, 5th of Easter: Acts 7:55-end, 1 Peter 2:2-10 and John 14:1-14
It is story all the way down. There is no life without story. We enter story from the time we are born and never exit story even in death.
Words from Willie Jennings - the black American theologian whose commentary on Acts draws us vividly into the story of the early church.
We are a story telling people. We break the ice in conversations, shape communities and or influence decisions by the stories we tell.
Some stories will seek to confirm identity or offer us certainty or stability; others will open up questions or stir our imaginations with new possibilities.
Telling stories is powerful because they embody or even conjure up reality - confirming the past, shaping the present and determining the future.
Today’s readings open up and challenge the kind of stories we tell:
In Peter’s letter we find ourselves called into God’s story - called to be God’s people, holy, faithful and beloved.
Peter invites us to become like infants - to be in a place of vulnerability and dependence. This is where we begin to grow into salvation - into that place of healing and wholeness.
It’s the beginning of a story: there is the expectation that we will explore and grow, but also the reality that we will be finding our way, sometimes stumbling or sometimes reaching out.
This story is grounded in, or indeed on, Jesus: a durable corner stone which bears the weight, but also shame and rejection, alongside election choice and grace.
We are built on a foundation which is a living stone - and we too live: we will grow and change, being shaped and honed within a community.
Peter paints a picture where it is safe to grow and learn; a community where sacrifices might be made for the sake of others; where mutual love shapes patterns of life; where we tell a different story reflecting what God has done in Christ - and not only that, what God continues to do in us, for the sake of a future we can only just glimpse.
What matters is God’s appraisal of us - God’s choice, calling and grace.
To be a community called to the dignity of a holy, royal priesthood, might not be about having all the answers or crossing our fingers that a fixed response might work.
It is instead submitting ourselves to a process of refinement; refined by the fire of God’s love; to be a continual work in progress through the loving mercy of God.
Our shared pattern of life shaping lives - trusting that if we place our trust in God, we will never be put to shame.
The communities, churches and households we are part of sometimes reinforce fixed expectations; yet through the Spirit we are called into a new story.
In Acts, we see Stephen at the moment in his life where his gaze extends beyond this world. He has come to this point because of such a new story. A story that has Jesus at the centre - a story that has reshaped, redirected and reordered his life.
Jesus spoke in stories - drawing all human life and story-telling back to our creator. In Jesus, God entered into our story and drew it into his own body as Jennings puts it. It is this story that Stephen tells when he faces false accusations.
In the power of the Spirit, he tells God’s story of promise, vulnerability and waiting…. of pain, rejection and waiting… For it is in the waiting that we are drawn into a life of love with God; a hope fulfilled in an embodied word of love.
Stephen’s life was filled with his Saviour’s story: of Jesus’ words and deeds, life and death; of the Spirit’s movement to raise up and break cycles of despair.
And now his eyes are drawn beyond the violent fray to gaze on heaven; to glimpse the end of the story. As his life passes from earthly reality to eternal promise, his words are scattered and love takes root.
Alongside Stephen the persecuted we see Saul, the persecutor who’d become Paul. Jennings writes that Stephen found his way to love. Saul was yet to find his way.
In John, we hear about such a way. Thomas and Philip are asking lots of questions - they are seeking out something certain that they can hold on to.
In his response, Jesus is inviting them into a place of trust and prayer, a place where they can dwell and grow in mutual love.
He speaks to these troubled and anxious disciples of a way of truth and life, which leads them deeper into the love of God.
It is a way which seeks out what is just and honourable; a way which builds up and sets us free from shame.
Jesus promises his disciples a place in God’s story - in the unfolding drama of what it is to love and be loved. All that is through him. In us trusting that Jesus is as God is; and that the Spirit will continue to encourage, comfort and help us in this way.
In laying down his life for us, Jesus goes to the depths of the grave and reveals the power of the resurrection. The way, truth and life of Jesus is to reconcile all things in love. That is our ultimate reality.
Yet even our frail human bodies can also reflect something of this way of life. God’s Spirit is at work in us - when we show compassion and kindness, when we show hospitality and friendship. We are to walk this way; embrace this truth; to dwell in this love.
Here in this place, we are given a glimpse of a way of love and friendship; we are invited to discover the truth of such love in action; and to rejoice that signs of life are indeed signs of love.
Here we receive the bread of life, given for us.
Here we are recalled as God’s people.
Here we are refined by the fire of God’s love.
Here we are sent out to tell a story of healing and possibility, of mercy and hope.
This is a story of life out of death, and a world healed by love’s wounds: we enter into this story which invites us to risk ourselves for those we serve in compassion and courage.
