A Knitter's Church

Hello friends! 

This year I'm working part time as the Student Pastor at Oglethorpe Presbyterian Church, about 30 minutes down the road from school. Today I praught* my first sermon at OPC. Knitting, New Orleans, and Mr. Rogers make appearances. If it suits your fancy, keep scrolling to check it out. If you'd rather listen, you can do that here.

Love, Allison.

* If teach = taught, preach = praught! This new vocab word is brought to you by a good friend/fellow seminarian. 

(You can blame preaching class at CTS for my
sketchbook-and-colored-pencils sermon prep habits.)

^{Ephesians 2:17-22, 4: 15-16}

¹⁷So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; ¹⁸for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. ¹⁹So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, ²⁰built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. ²¹In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; ²²in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling-place for God. ¹⁵But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, ¹⁶from whom the whole body, joined and knitted together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.

***

The church I want us to think about today is Oglethorpe, but it isn’t exactly the painted white brick exterior, the pews you’re sitting on, or our cheerfully colored preschool hallways. This morning’s reading from Ephesians may not be talking about our specific Brookhaven church, or even any tangible brick-and-mortar structure. But that doesn’t mean it’s completely lacking in language about buildings.  For example, we hear from Paul that the church is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone.” 

 These days some physical cornerstones are more ceremonial than structural, taking the form of a large commemorative stone on the corner of a building, often marking the year in which the building was constructed. More importantly, the cornerstone is the point from which the rest of the building is oriented. Each wall of the structure is ultimately situated according to the cornerstone.  

So the greater Church can rely on Christ the cornerstone, who aligns the rest of our foundation, made up of the apostles and prophets, according to Paul. And it is through their teachings that we, the brick-and-mortar members, begin to be “built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.”

As Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus continues, it gets more specific about the body that is this dwelling place for God, and the words start to sound more like we’d find them in an anatomy lesson than in class on construction. Not only is Christ this dwelling place’s cornerstone, he is the head, “from whom the whole body is joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped.” A head...a body...and ligaments...the church is alive. Christ the cornerstone, and the rest of the apostles and prophets, serve as the foundation of this living, breathing, growing body of Christ that is the church. 

I don’t exactly know the science behind a body being knit together by ligaments, as Ephesians says we are if Christ is the head. But I do know that when I first read that sentence in the Scripture for today, I couldn’t help but think of another kind of knitting. My kind of knitting involves a ball of yarn. Now I should also confess to you that when I say “my kind of knitting,” I mean I would consider myself a beginner, at best. I have a few scarves under my belt, a dishcloth or two, and last Christmas break I graduated to making a hat (but my mom had to come to my knitting rescue at the end of that project). My novice status aside, here is what I know to be true about knitting. It usually requires at least a little guidance. It always requires patience. It also helps if you’re a naturally fidgety person. Although I don’t know that fidgeting is a requirement of the body of Christ, I can say from personal experience that it probably happens from time to time. Finally, in the world of knitting, as my Mom has informed me: “a real knitter never ties a knot.” This excludes the slip knot that is often used at the very beginning of a project, but either way, the point isn’t to tie the yarn so tightly together that there is no possible way it will ever move. Of course you hope your new scarf or hat or sock stays together. And it probably does! But the reason for that isn’t knots. When it comes down to it, knitting is really a series of fancy loops. Each time the needles are moved, the yarn makes one loop, slips through another, and becomes an anchor of sorts for yet another future loop, as each part of the yarn  gently and flexibly supports another in its place. Knots are even avoided when a new ball of yarn is brought into a project in progress. The new piece of yarn is held next to the old, makes its first loop and is woven into the former and future loops. So, these loops are where our work comes in. Jesus is a knitter in this hat or scarf or dishcloth of a church. He’s the beginning of our series of loops, ultimately their anchor. But we too, are knitters of the body of Christ. 

Some of you may be familiar with the prayer shawl ministry that is present in many congregations. The ministry’s website describes their project like this: “Compassion and the love of knitting [or] crocheting have been combined into a prayerful ministry and spiritual practice which reaches out to those in need of comfort and solace, as well as in celebration and joy. Many blessings are prayed into every stitch. Whether they are called Prayer Shawls, Comfort Shawls, Peace Shawls, or Mantles, etc., the shawl maker begins with prayers and blessings for the recipient. The intentions are continued throughout the creation of the shawl. Upon completion, a final blessing is offered before the shawl is sent on its way.”

 The page goes on to say that sometimes recipients will go on to make shawls for others, as God’s comfort spreads throughout the community. 

One more thing I’ll mention, about knitting. It is sometimes very. tedious. Once you get the hang of the basic moves, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, especially for the fidgeters among us, including myself. But however familiar the moves, knitting still requires care and attention. And the careful nature of crafting these loops means that every inch of that yarn, however briefly, has been touched by the knitter. 

And a certain balance of tension must be maintained in the yarn, to successfully complete a project. A knitter must keep the yarn pulled tightly enough to guide it into place. But also essential is that the yarn has some room to move. Just as ligaments help our bodies bend and stretch, flexibility is key in knitting.

So to truly live into our places in the church as the body of Christ -- whether we are held together as ligaments or as pieces of yarn -- we have to allow ourselves to be knitted, and we need to do some knitting ourselves. And just as Christ is the cornerstone of our foundation, he can be the first loop of yarn -- or the slip knot -- that holds the rest of us in place. Whether you grew up in this church, whether you’ve been here for a few years or a few weeks, or whether you are visiting today for the first time, Christ holds us together as one body, as the first loop and as the foundation for the gift that is this community. This community of faith is one that includes Oglethorpe, of course, but also one that goes beyond it.

The year before I started seminary at Columbia, I spent a year living in New Orleans with the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s Young Adult Volunteer program. Not only did my fellow volunteers and I become knit together, we were woven into the fabric of the cities in which we served. That year living in community with other volunteers challenged me and helped me grow in countless ways, but one thing of the clearest memories I have took place in my very first week there. My housemates and I, along with some volunteers from another program, were on a tour of the city. We saw some of the usual sites, and we got to know some new neighborhoods. We stood on the levee looking over the Lower Ninth Ward. What is most memorable about that day, however, is a comment that our tour guide made, at the end of the tour. While we were debriefing the things we’d experienced that day, our guide shared some of her thoughts on the years following Hurricane Katrina. As she painted a picture of the city’s recovery process which included the gradual departure of the various forms of aid, and the media’s movement on to the next pieces of breaking news. But she made one thing clear. She said: “The church never forgot us.” As members of the church, we care for all the parts of our knitted body.

Our guide wasn’t just talking about the specific group of faith-based volunteers that was standing in front of her, nor specifically about the Presbyterian Church. The church that remembered New Orleans is a mosaic of helpers spread far and wide, from a vast array different traditions and geographical locations. One of my favorite Presbyterians, Mr. Rogers, once said: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers, so many caring people in this world.” 

These words from Mr. Rogers have more to do with knitting than the fact that he wore a lot of sweaters. New Orleans is part of this knitted, global church, and the helpers that arrived after that hurricane -- and that still arrive today -- were and are proof of this connected church. 

The other thing about most knitted garments? They’re washable. Although New Orleans faced devastation in the wake of Katrina’s floods, and its people were scattered across the country, small rays of hope came in the form of helpers from faith communities across the country. Slowly but surely the helpers began to knit back together the stretched loops of New Orleans.

It is through this caring -- both for people in our own congregation and for people outside of it -- that we can, as Ephesians puts it, build ourselves up in love.  So, as we live out the coming week together let us remember that we are built on Christ’s sure foundation. And that as we continually knit each other together with intention and openness -- a thoughtful, creative, sometimes tedious process -- this community of faith will continue to build and be built up in love.

Amen.