A meditation on Kirchengemeinschaft with the United Church of Christ (USA)
Good afternoon, sisters and brothers!
Midnight. The bell-tower of Magdeburg Cathedral is the scene of a special conference. The speakers are church mice who have stowed away in the black briefcases of their delegates. Let’s eavesdrop on their squeaking:
“Ükk, Ükk,” we hear from a rafter. “Utz, Utz” answers one opposite, swinging from a bell rope. Nota bene: today the conference is an international one. No easy job when it comes to communication. The church mice eye each other up and down. But Ükk – due to her home advantage – takes the first step towards the foreign mouse: “My name is Ükk, that comes from U.E.K. by the way, which comes from EKU, Old Prussia, you know,” she adds confidently and learnedly. “And we owe all that to Martin Luther and John Calvin and Friedrich Wilhelm III.” Impressive stuff!
The mouse with the Utz squeak is, to put it mildly, impressed. But, heaven knows, she is also never at a loss for words. “Utz comes from UCC, and that goes back to Evangelical und Reformed on one hand, and Christian and Congregational, on the other. And, way back, we based our faith on Martin Luther and John Calvin (not to be confused with Calvin Klein, you know).”
The UEK mouse has not used English since school. But she gets the message: “The U.C.C. is a United Church. Funny,” she muses, “I am United too. Evangelical, that is familiar from my Prussian history. “Reformed” must be the Reformed Christians from the Upper Rhine. Emigrated to a New World. Stayed ‘Congregational’ – wasn’t that what the Pilgrim Fathers and Mothers were, the ones on the Mayflower? But ‘Christian’ – hmm, aren’t we all?” Utz helps out: “That’s what we call a Revival Movement in the southern states. Those four attributes are us.”
Now it’s clear: Utz is not a local mouse. She comes from across the Atlantic. America. The US of A. Ükk looks askance. The two church mice even look different. Ükk looks the way we Germans imagine a United minister: her clerical bands poke outwards. Over her little pointy ears there is a biretta (cap) reminiscent of Lutheran tradition. Utz is more colorful. She wears a cross with a crown on a tripartite globe. “That they may all be one” encircles it like a wreath. “That sounds familiar,” thinks Ükk. “John 17:21. Ükk, we should know, has studied theology in all the right places: Heidelberg, Göttingen, Tübingen, Bonn. Has Utz done the same? Her stole, that she has cheerfully draped over a loose, wide gown, bears the legend “Let it shine”; and reminds us more of the musical “Hair” from the 1960s than of Systematic Theology.
Be that as it may. Now they are together in Magdeburg Cathedral. Not to indulge in preconceptions. No, to encounter one another. To get acquainted. Just like the delegates down in the nave. And so Ükk pipes up again and declares: “I believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, the Creator of Heaven and Earth.” Pause. Takes a deep breath. No reaction. Finally she adds “Well, and what do you believe?”
Utz strokes her whiskers. After a pause she replies, confidently and solemnly: “We believe in you, O God, Eternal Spirit, God of our Savior Jesus Christ and our God.” “Can you say that in German?” asks Ükk, perplexed. Utz wrinkles her mousey brow: In fluent German, admittedly with an American accent, she counters: “Yes, haven’t you got the Evangelical Hymnbook, EG, edition for the Evangelical Church in the Rhineland, Westphalia, Lippe in fellowship with the Evangelical Reformed Church and the Churches in the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg?” Ükk delves into her little briefcase and brings forth the said edition of the hymnbook. “And now please open it at number 818.” Lo and behold, there it is, “Statement of Faith of the United Church of Christ”, in English and German. Underneath the explanation: “The Evangelical Church of the Union has been linked with this church in the USA since 1980 through church fellowship.” Ükk turns crimson.
But Ükk is smart too. She does not want to bother much with formalities. Ükk wants and yearns for theological discussion - because now it dawns on her. Weren’t there talks back in the 1970s in which many stern questions were leveled by Old Europe at the New World? Did Utz have any regard for the Trinity? Or had a cheap Unitarianism crept in? Did feminism even forbid people to talk of Father and Son for fear of not being inclusive enough? So, what does the visitor mouse think of God? That all bubbles out of Ükk.
But Utz wasn’t born yesterday: “We believe in you, O God, Eternal Spirit, God of our Savior Jesus Christ and our God,” the church mouse translates helpfully. And she starts to explain at length - a bit like the Apostle Philip in the chariot of the Ethiopian treasurer in Acts 8. “You start with: I believe...,” she begins, “But we believe as ‘we’. Never alone. That is why we are in Magdeburg. That is full communion (Kirchengemeinschaft), you know, and everyone is on board: Germans and Americans, but also women and men, disabled and non-disabled, people with different sexual orientation, young and old. We call that ‘open and inclusive’. And that’s why it says at a later passage in our Statement of Faith: ‘binding in covenant faithful people of all ages, tongues, and races’. “But that sounds very activist,” replies Ükk, wrinkling her little brow. “Activist? That’s life. That’s why we use the present tense for our confession. “You…create persons in your own image,” we tell God. “You seek in holy love to save all people from aimlessness and sin.” Ükk falls silent. Thinks. Then she comes back: “And Jesus, the Christ? Is he really the Savior in your way of thinking? And not only the good guy from Nazareth?”
Utz sighs. And is patient. And quotes: “‘In Jesus Christ, the man of Nazareth, our crucified and risen Savior, you came to us, reconciling the world to yourself.’ The Niebuhr brothers, Tillich and Bonhoeffer called it the history of salvation. We do too,” adds Utz, who does not seem so theologically dim after all. Ükk falls silent. Ponders deeply. “There’s still the question,” she finally squeaks, “of whether you sometimes don’t get too distracted with resolutions on this, that and the other: Palestine, global economic crisis, homosexuality...” Now it’s Utz’s turn. “And you?” she retorts, somewhat tartly: “What excites you beyond a normal day of meetings? Pious words mostly, nothing more? We have read Bonhoeffer’s Cost of Discipleship very carefully. Men and women from the United Church of Christ marched with Martin Luther King to Montgomery. They got arrested on the steps of the Capitol during the Vietnam War. Our Church President was among them. They warned of a disaster in Iraq and Afghanistan. Courage in the struggle for justice and peace” is our creed.” Ükk looks thoughtful. And asks whether EKU, UEK, EKD really couldn’t learn something from such micey courage. But there is time for a final question in the bell tower: “With so much engagement,” she inquires cautiously, “Have your congregations any breath left to pray?” “Our congregations?” Utz wrinkles her little brow. “It is clear, my dear Ükk, that you have never attended one of our worship services. You have never seen how we welcome people, how we involve so many in planning the services, in the music, spirituality and prayer. ‘You call us into your church to accept the cost and joy of discipleship,’ says our confession of faith, ‘to share in Christ’s baptism and eat at his table.’ And all that because we are sustained by the profound belief: ‘You promise…eternal life in your realm which has no end.’”
Silence has fallen in the Magdeburg bell tower. With these final words from Utz the two mice extend their paws. And clasp them firmly. While the Full Conference down below adopts a resolution on church fellowship by acclamation, the two church mice, so close to heaven, fall into each others’ tiny arms - together in sweet communion.
“Blessing and honor, glory and power be unto you,” gracious God. Amen