It's this reversal. Spock had sacrificed his life in order for the ship to be saved. And then the whole ship ends up sacrificing themselves to some extent in order to find Spock. They had become so interwoven. They had become one fabric. They couldn't imagine anything different, all the way to the point that Captain Kirk reverses that phrase, "the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many." He's in some ways saying the same thing as Stephen after the last service said. It's like the lost sheep. It's like Jesus going after the one. It's not forsaking the many, but it's saying we're not one without you. We're not complete without you. We need the fullness of all of us in order to be who we are.

As I was thinking about where to dive in biblically, there's so many places we could talk about—the relationship between Moses and Aaron, or Paul and Barnabas, or Naomi and Ruth. We could go on and on as we think about friendship, but I decided to go to the letter of Hebrews, following last week's sermon on the letter to the Romans and some of the conversations I had with you all following that sermon.

I want us to take a look at this letter to the church in Jerusalem. That's who we believe the letter to the Hebrews is written to. We don't know who wrote it. For years, people said Paul, but now it's pretty clear through scholarship that it wasn't Paul. Some people suggest it could even be Priscilla that wrote it. Maybe there's a female author. That part doesn't matter as much. What we know is that it's someone writing to the early church, kind of the second-generation church in Jerusalem, who are facing persecution. The Jewish community is saying, "You guys are doing it wrong." And so they're facing hardship from people going, "Your practices are wrong. That's not the way to do it. That's not faithful. That's not godly. That's not going to bring you in close relationship with God."

And so they're being challenged in what they believe and in how they do it. But not only that, they believed—the early church believed—that Jesus would return in their lifetime. The disciples believed that Jesus would return in their lifetime. And the early apostles believed that Jesus would return in their lifetime. And it was a crisis of faith as the first disciples died, as the early apostles died, and Jesus hadn't returned. So there's this disappointment in addition to the persecution that they're facing. This is a tough way for the church to exist, all the way to the point the letter acknowledges that some of them had stopped meeting together at all. It was just easier to not meet together than to face the hardship of trying to be the church that God has called them to be.

So the writer of Hebrews begins by making a case. The first nine chapters of Hebrews is the writer making a case for who God is. Reminding the early church, "Don't you remember? Don't you remember?" It's by our confidence in who God is, not who we are. It's by our confidence in who God is through Jesus Christ that we have any authority, that we have any confidence to act. And so, he makes this whole case—he or she makes this whole case—to remind them of the truth of who God is.

And then we get to chapter 10 and the word *therefore*. And if in the last four years you've spent any time with me in Bible study, you know I love it when we get to that word. They're all over the place. And if you've been in Bible study with me, you know I make you underline it or highlight it or circle it or note it in some kind of way because I think we should perk up. I think we should perk up because *therefore* means that there's a transition. Someone has just made a case for something and they're about to transition into how it applies because this is true. *Therefore*, we should do something. So we should pay attention to these *therefore*s.

Let's check out the *therefore* that comes in one of them, in the letter to the Hebrew people, likely the early church in Jerusalem, chapter 10.

*Therefore*, my brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain—that is, through his flesh—and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the day approaching.

This is the word of God for us, the people of God, and it's a powerful word and a challenge.

*Therefore*, because of who God is, we can do a couple of things. Let's go through them. Number three in your listening guide: because of who God is, we can have confidence in our close relationship with God.

There's a whole lot of things in this world we can't have confidence in, right? There's all sorts of shifting sands under our feet. All sorts of things that change culturally or in the midst of our stories, even things that we thought were certain. It can be hard sometimes to know what to hold on to.

And so, in the midst of the persecution, in the midst of the disappointment that this early church is facing, the writer says, "Here's what you can have confidence in. Here's what you can know beyond knowing: God is who God says God is." And so we hold on to that, and it changes everything.

We can have confidence in God's proximity to us, in God's care for us, in God's presence with us. There's no longer a high priest standing behind the curtain, keeping us on the other side, or in an outer courtyard, or maybe not even in the temple gallery at all. That person's no longer there. Jesus is it. Jesus is the bridge between us and a holy God.

It means that we can move boldly where no man has gone before. Okay, that’s too far. I know it’s too far. It’s too far. The language of the whole letter is us. It’s not about the individual alone. The language is us. It’s about the work of the community—drawing closer to God and closer to each other.

So, here's another truth we can know: because we have confidence in God, we are called to be in close community with others.

Because of our proximity to God, we're called to be in proximity to other people, even the ones that we think are half alien. Even the difficult ones, maybe even most especially in the complex relationships.

We have a high priest. We do. So let us approach, the scripture says, with our hearts. It’s not just about me. It’s not just about you. It’s about us together. The only way we do this is together.

Faith is not a solo sport. Relationship with God is not a solo sport. I tell you guys all the time that I hate telling people I’m a pastor at a social gathering because it changes everything. And one of the things that people do all the time is they start confessing about their church attendance. Not because I asked them. When they go, "What do you do?" I don’t go, "I’m a pastor. Where do you go to church?" Right? I don’t. But people immediately feel the need to tell me. And often, people go into this long explanation about how they don’t go to church, but they’re spiritual and they even believe, but they’ve found that they are closest with God when they’re by themselves in nature. And then they tell me about their fly fishing experiences. It’s true. Confession is this weird thing that people do when they find out you’re a pastor.

If you’re thinking about becoming a pastor, know this. Know this. When you’re a medical doctor and people find out you’re a medical doctor, they want to know what they can do about their rash, right? When you’re a pastor, they tell you how they got the rash in the first place. Like the real story. Not because you asked, not because you want to know.

And so, people tell me these stories about, "No, we don’t go because church," and they tell me the flaws with the church—and they’re not wrong. We are flawed because we’re real people. And then they tell me about how they—here’s the thing—I don’t argue with people when they do that. I try to learn more about who they are.

Here’s the thing: Yes, God is present with us in all places. Yes, part of our journey of faith includes time in solitude. It includes just like Jesus did—time quiet with God. But the Bible is clear—and I mean clear—that that cannot be the whole story—that we are called into community. And the Bible is also clear that that is hard work.

We are called to be in community, and the best chance for us to get the fullest picture of who the living God is, is to be in real and authentic relationship with each other. We have a high priest. Let us approach with our hearts.

The writer to the Hebrews has this vision of what the community could be. They acknowledge what it is. They acknowledge that it’s hard. They’re not saying, "Come on, Jerusalem. Get it together. Snap out of it. It’s not that bad." That’s not what they’re doing. I think it’s an incredibly pastoral letter. Actually, I think they’re offering pastoral care to the community. This is hard, y’all. That’s what they’re saying. This is hard. And the stuff you’re facing is real. And in the midst of it, this is also true. Hear what is also true. Hear what is more true than the temporal facts that you’re facing.

Grounded in the person of Jesus Christ, we can learn and grow. And we do that best when we do it together. So how? That’s the question. None of us, none of you, are going to leave here today when I say we’re called to be in community and you go, "Where does she get this stuff? That’s ridiculous." Right? None of you are leaving going, "Oh, that’s wrong. It’s a clear biblical command." No, the question isn’t where does she get it. The question is how do we do it? How do we do it well? Because it’s hard. Being in real relationship with people is hard. It’s hard work.

And so, the writer of Hebrews has some advice for us. And the first thing that the writer says—the how that we do—it first has to include hope. That’s number five in your listening guide: we are called to hold fast to hope.

We spent all last week talking about it. We are called to hold fast to hope. Hope is worth our investment. Hope that the church can be better than it is. Hope that we can grow. Hope that grace covers us. Hope that we are, in fact, freed and forgiven people. And that frees us and enables us and mobilizes us to be the people of God in tangible ways in the world.

The promise of God with us, God ahead of us, a future hope that is beyond just this moment. And then the letter says, because of that, we’re going to hold on to it. Here’s the how: we’re going to hold on to hope.

And then we’re called, number six in your listening guide: we’re called to spur one another on toward love and good deeds. What’s our job? What’s our work? Our work is to spur one another on to love and good deeds.

I’m going to ask you again—say it out loud—*we’re called to spur one another on to love and good deeds*. That doesn’t just happen by accident. It doesn’t just happen by accident. It doesn’t just happen because of attendance. And attendance matters. Man, I love it when we’re all here together. One of my favorite things about Easter—and I mean when I was just church staff standing in the back—is it feels like a family reunion. I love Easter because everyone shows up, and it’s like the kid who graduated, you know, six years ago and used to be in my youth group or whatever, like comes back and you just—it just feels whole. As a pastor, it feels whole. I miss you when you’re not here. It’s the truth. I miss you when you’re not here. There’s something better when we’re all in this together.

So, we’re called to be in this real relationship, and we’re called to spur one another on to this good work. That’s the fruit of our faith. That’s the fruit of our faith. That’s the tangible evidence that we are Christians, right? How will they know we’re Christians? By our love.

The world right now, when you ask them about Christians, love isn’t often the first word they say. We’re missing the mark. We can beat ourselves up about it. I would say instead, maybe let’s evaluate. Let’s have a little honest evaluation, a little honest accountability. The church could use a bit of that. We’re not great at it.

I get called to consult in other churches a fair amount. Pastor Melissa does, too. We were talking about it this week. And I’ll often go into churches who are brainstorming about new ways to be innovative. And I’ll ask them to make a list, right? We’ll start brainstorming: what are you great at? What do you need some growth in? And nearly every church will list everything they do as what they’re good at because the church is afraid. It’s like we don’t want to say anything rude. We’re the church. I think we’re only ever supposed to be nice. And it almost feels bad to say, "I think we’re not nailing this part." We’re not great at evaluating ourselves, but I think we need to—until the point when the world looks at the church and says, "Oh, that’s love." I think we should be evaluating ourselves honestly until the point when the world looks at us and says, "We’re embodying love. We’ve got some work to do." Let’s not be ashamed about it. Let’s just go, "Okay, let’s keep growing. Let’s keep growing."

And so, the question for us—and I leave this to you as a little bit of homework—is: how are we living out our faith? That’s really the question. Number seven in your listening guide: how are we living out our faith? I don’t want it to build shame, and I don’t want you to create a to-do list, thinking to yourself, "Oh, I need to do more." I don’t think that’s the point. I think the question is: if we’re called to love and good works, how are we doing that? How are we doing that as individuals and as a community? What does it tangibly look like for us to be growing in that work of love and good deeds?

I want to close with this. Aristotle— isn’t that a good closing? Let’s just examine Aristotle for a little while as we close.

Aristotle talks about three kinds of friendship in much of his work, and it’s been picked up in the years since and expanded on. Some of the greatest thinkers of our time continue to believe that this theory is correct: that there are three kinds of friendship—pleasure, utility, and the kind of friendship that’s seeking the benefit of others.

Pleasure and utility are the kinds of friendship that happen based on proximity. Right? We’re around other people that we work with. We’re around other people who are the parents of our, you know, kids of the soccer team. We’re around other people who are in our family or marriage. Do you see what I’m saying? There are all these people in our lives who are part of our lives for whatever season we are in proximity to each other. Those are important relationships, and we should invest in those. And some of those can become the third kind. But it takes intentionality. It takes intentionality.

And so, Aristotle would say that in those first two kinds of friendship, we experience pleasure and the utility of being helpful to one another. And Aristotle would say that both pleasure and utility benefit us. It benefits us to be friendly with the people we’re in proximity to. You see, but the third kind of friendship is outward focused. The third kind of friendship is not just about what suits me best in this season—what’s the most comfortable or helpful in this season.

In the third kind of friendship, we somehow become woven with the other. We somehow begin to think of their needs as greater than our own. I don’t know, in Star Trek, they might say, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one." Or in scripture, we might say something like, I don’t know, the golden rule: *Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.* Do you see? It’s a Christian ethic. And that kind of friendship only happens when we intentionally pursue real life with each other. When we intentionally put ourselves together and choose to stay together through the difficult places.

Would you not say that some of the strongest relationships in your life have been formed in the midst of adversity? That some of the strongest relationships haven’t arrived at the strength they hold because it’s been smooth sailing? No. When we choose to weather the storms of life. When we choose to join one another in the real joys and the hopes and the dreams, but also to stick together when we don’t make sense to each other. To stick together when we miss the mark and need to ask for forgiveness or offer some. To stick together when we know that there is hope for a future that is better than just what is.

I’m not interested in being part of a performative faith. I’m not interested in leading a performative church. And I couldn’t be more proud to be the pastor here at Vine, where we are trying to authentically, as we can, love God and love each other. We nail it sometimes. We miss the mark other times, and we ask for forgiveness when we do, and we keep moving forward so that there might come a day when the world looks at Jesus Christ and at Jesus Christ’s body, which is the church, and says, "That’s what love looks like." Yes, that’s what love looks like. That’s the day we’re working for. And we hang together on our way there. Amen. And amen.

As we move into a time of communion, we’re going to show some images of Pastor Jack’s ministry over the last three years here at the Vine. Next Sunday is Pastor Jack’s official last Sunday.

We’re part of a United Methodist system where pastors submit ourselves to the authority of the bishop and the cabinet, and we commit to go where we’re sent. Jack is moving on to elders’ orders. He’s hoping to be ordained. He will be ordained in a year. Again, the fist is not—*the fist is yay, Jack, not or else.* He’s moving toward full ordination and has been reappointed to two churches in Winchester. This is part of the process. It’s part of the gift of being a church like Vine that has space for associate pastors, and we can help grow and mentor and help them move into the next season.

Next week is our annual block party, where we kind of end the school year with one worship service outside at 11:00. There’s no 9:30 service, just one service outside at 11, followed by lunch. Thank you, Wayne. Burgers, hot dogs—we’ll have some vegan options, some games, and some music. So, plan to hang out next Sunday. Bring a chair, use one of ours.

But because we can’t show a screen and images next week, we want to show and celebrate some of Jack’s ministry during the communion time. So, Jack, would you come up and lead us in communion? And when the band starts playing, we’ll check out some of the images of Jack’s time with us over the last three years.

Would you pray with me?

God, we thank you that you’ve chosen to be in community with us—that you are not a distant God, that you are Emmanuel with us. And that as we draw closer to you, you call us to draw closer to each other. Oh God, let us value all the kinds of friendship, but let us seek depth. Let us seek authenticity and accountability, that we might be a mirror to other people and that other people might be a mirror to us—not for the sake of shame, but for growth in your image. Let us do that as individuals and as a church. And lead us to your perfection in love.

As we come to this communion table, forgive us for the ways we’ve missed that mark, and feed us, grow us so that we might be more of you. We pray all this in the mighty name of your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen.

As we prepare our hearts for communion, Jesus demonstrates to us—really exemplifies—this statement that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one—that Jesus laid down his life for the sake of others. That even in life, he chose to bless others rather than just be blessed himself; to serve others rather than to be served.

So we remember that on that night, Jesus gave himself up for us. Jesus took bread and gave thanks to God. Jesus broke the bread and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take, eat. This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And when the supper was over, Jesus took the cup, gave thanks to God, and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Drink from this, all of you. This is my blood of the new covenant, poured out for you and for many, for the forgiveness of sins. Do this as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me."

And so, as we remember the mighty acts of Jesus’ love—to benefit us, to bless us, to save us, to heal us, to liberate us—would you join me in a word of prayer?

Let us pray.

Heavenly God, we thank you that greater love knows not but this—that one lay down his life for another. God, we thank you that you see the needs of this universe, and in the most amazing way, you choose to fill those needs—even though it might cost you. So, Lord, we thank you that you invite us to this table, your table. And we ask that you would pour out your Holy Spirit on us gathered here and on these gifts of bread and juice. Make them be for us the body and blood of Christ, that we might be for the world the body of Christ, redeemed by his blood. Make us one with you, Lord, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world until Christ comes in final victory, and we feast at his heavenly banquet.

We thank you, Lord, for your love. May it blossom within us and give us the strength to move forward every day in faith. We thank you, Lord, and in Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

At the Vine, we celebrate communion every week. And I believe it’s such a gift for us to be able to do this—to remind ourselves that Jesus abides in us and that we abide in Jesus. That we can weekly have a tangible reminder of this and access to this gift of grace that allows for freedom, forgiveness, and strength.

So, as you come forward, we’ll offer you a gluten-free cracker. We’ll ask you to dip it into the cup. And this is how we’ll partake of the body and blood of Jesus Christ. All are welcome to the table of the Lord. This is Jesus’s table, not the table of Vine or the United Methodist Church. We don’t ask for your membership card or baptism certificate or anything like that. Come as you are. Come as you are, welcomed by the Lord who knows all your needs, who knows you by name and in your heart. So, the table is set. Come as you are.

Subject: Embodying Christ's Love Through Authentic Community

Dear The VineVa,

I hope this message finds you reflecting on the call to hold fast to hope and to spur one another on toward love and good deeds.

Last Sunday, we explored the letter to the Hebrews and the powerful reminder that because of who God is, we can have confidence in our relationship with Him and with each other. The early church faced persecution and disappointment, yet the writer encouraged them—and us—to not neglect meeting together, to hold fast to hope, and to actively encourage one another in love and good works. We saw that faith is not a solo sport, and that authentic community, though hard, is where we grow and reflect the fullness of Christ’s love.

So I want to challenge us all: how are we living out our faith in tangible ways that spur others on? Let’s be honest about the work it takes to be in real relationship, to stick together through the hard stuff, and to embody the kind of love that the world can recognize as Christ’s. This week, consider who you might encourage or be encouraged by, and how you can hold fast to hope together as a community.

Blessings,
The VineVa Team