If you were an alien and your first exposure to “church” was what you saw happening in this room, what would your impressions be?

Well, some of us are dressed differently from the norm one would see among the majority of people here: Melissa, and Debra and I are dressed more splendidly than anyone else. The majority of people are seated in rows facing a stage like area with a large table prominently placed in the middle. In procession the most important elements are at the beginning and the end: the cross preceded by incense, surrounded with candles, the one of the splendidly vested people following with an ornate book in his hands and at the end two more people splendidly vested, one in a tunic and the other wearing an ornate cloak.

Who, would you surmise from what you saw, are the most important people here? One would guess that the people in the funny clothes are the most important, but is that true?

When Constantine established Christianity as the official state religion of the Roman Empire, he donated several buildings to the Church for public worship. These buildings were call basilicae or basilicas (in English), not an entirely unfamiliar word. Important Roman Catholic churches are called basilicas to this day. The architecture of the basilicas reflected the Roman ideas about social organization and the relative value of people. As the church accommodated to acceptance in the Roman Empire, the ideas about social organization and relative importance were adopted by the church without much reflection (as I see it). The space of the basilica was organized much as our church is organized architecturally (and that is not accident). The basilica was basically a long box with a dais at the end opposite the main entrance which in turn was very grand from the outside with a wide portico and porch. People entered the basilica with the attention of attending to the actions of the “really important people.”

The Roman pattern of organization basically turned the liturgy into a spectator sport with the action and the “important” people up front and the “unimportant” people watching as more or less passive participants.

So it became easy (and remains easy) to see the church as a hierarchical organization, with the bishops and clergy at the top of the ladder and everyone else somewhere below them.

This vision of the church is not the vision Jesus had of the church: “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing”. The one and only “very important person” in the Church is Christ. Of his body we are all members, each essential, each of surpassing importance and value.

Jesus’ (and Paul’s, for that matter) vision of the Church is the diametric opposite of the hierarchical model we have absorbed from the architecture and ceremonial of the church over the ages: The really important level in the church is the laity; the clergy function as “infrastructure” there to support, encourage, challenge, nurture and love the laity into fulfilling the promises they made at baptism.

What happens every Sunday morning when I dismiss the assembly: Go forth into the world rejoicing in the power of the spirit? Have you ever stopped to think how many people we all touch during the course of our daily lives? Colleagues, clerks, bus drivers, passengers, people on the freeway, in our families, in our workplaces, in theaters and gym, coffee shops, grocery stores and offices? The laity function as a membrane of mercy, a membrane of mercy penetrating the world, touching suffering and boredom and dissatisfaction with positive regard, courteous behavior and simple kindness, the living interface between God and the world. There is a play called “Six Degrees of Separation, ” the title comes from the premise that human beings are separated from each other by at most six degrees of separation. “Beloved,” St. John reminds us in his first letter, “let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.... God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.”

The story in the first reading today about Philip (one of the first seven deacons) and the eunuch from Ethiopia. Eunuchs were, if you will, the sexual outlaws of Judaism--not welcome in the community at all because of their mutilation (whether they had chosen it or not). Yet nearly all of the social servants of the ancient Near East were eunuchs. Philip comes upon the Ethiopian eunuch in his chariot studying the prophet Isaiah, perplexed by the passages in the book that referred to the Messiah as God’s suffering servant. Philip interprets the scripture to him and introduces him to Jesus. Now a eunuch who is a student of Judaism would have known how Jews felt about including him, but somehow, the eunuch was given the grace to expect inclusion and to ask for it. Philip in his turn gave it to him wholeheartedly.

So how do we embody this new and ancient vision of ourselves and the branches of one vine, pruned by the Father of Jesus into every greater fruitfulness, community of radical inclusion and equality? How do we express this vision when we come together and remember it when we are apart?

Prior to Constantine the churches met in homes, albeit splendid large homes, built in the Roman style. Not home churches as some people in our age envision them, but large nearly palatial homes with a large open court in the center surrounded on four sides by the rooms of the house. This open court was usually square with a fountain in the center. When the church gathered for worship, they were arrayed basically in a circle surrounded the water feature (which obviously began to serve as a location and a reminder of baptism). Everybody was dressed in the kinds of garments that are worn in our time only by clergy and there was really no visible distinction between the various orders of the church. An utterly egalitarian assembly with structures of leadership that were meant to support the life and mission of the people in the congregation.

Why am I yammering on about the shape of churches and the meanings that architecture impose on the communities that meet in the buildings in question?

We are approaching renovations in our church building, renovations in our community life (with the addition of a third service on Sundays). I think that it is important to reflect on who we are and who we are called to be so that our home and life and worship reflect accurately and remind us continually of our vocation as Christians. “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.”

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