God’s work in broken community

Reflecting on Paul’s call to order and Jesus’ manifesto in the readings for the day, 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a and Luke 4:14-21 for the 3rd Sunday of Epiphany (C) for two small congregations in a lively/lovely group of parishes in rural Warwickshire. This post includes a video of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde discussing her sermon that made headlines following President Trump’s inauguration service.

January 26th 2025

First of all, a note. I normally get round the problem of God’s pronoun by  using the name of God instead of a pronoun.  But, here, I am going to need a pronoun. There are many objections to using “he/him” because the name God is then linked with power, privilege and patriarchy – and the language we use about God needs to set God free from such associations, particularly in these days of right wing nationalism popularised by men such as Trump, Putin, Musk and Netanyahu. So, for this sermon, when I need to resort to God’s pronouns it will be she/her. I hope you will understand why.

In a world where God’s name is often associated with power, control, and patriarchy, using ‘she/her’ reminds us that God transcends these human limitations and works to free us from systems that seek to dehumanize and divide. It is not an attempt to redefine God’s essence but to challenge our projections of power. Forever God gathers the lost, gives strength to those who are weak, and honour to those who have been shamed and ashamed.

In the midst of controversy Paul has this to say to the troubled, disjointed community of Corinth. “We were all baptised by one Spirit so as to form one body – whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free”. Here was a community facing all sorts of problems with all sorts of differences. Paul reminds them what God does in the middle of such a community. She brings us together to form one body from the splinters and divisions. She gathers us from far and wide and makes of us one body whatever the differences between us.

Paul stands in the middle of the conflict and witnesses to what God does. He reminds the community of the abundance of God’s gifts and the value and diversity of each and every one of them for the purpose of community building and reconciliation, reminding the body around him that every member needs every other body to fully function. 

Perhaps Paul remembered the prophecy in the valley of dry bones – a valley of untold war crimes from which the bones of those killed were left out in the scorching sun for the wild animals to pick the meat from. The sound from this valley overshadowed in death was the noise of a disjointed people overwhelmed by tragedy. “Our bones are dried up, our hope is lost” is what they said. (Ezekiel 37:11). Those bones speak of a people abandoned, dehumanised and rendered invisible. In that valley Ezekiel was made to tell the truth about what God does, how she undoes the shame by breathing life into the very bones of a community destroyed, dismembered and left to rot.


This is what God does. Even as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God brings us together. From the four corners of the world, Jews and Gentiles, slave and free, God brings us together in love in spite of differences between us. The Spirit that breathes life into the valley of dry bones is the same Spirit Paul saw at work amongst the Corinthians and is the same Spirit that unites us as the body of Christ, knitting us together from the corners of the world, and overcoming shame, division, and death itself.

You see, God remembers us. She remembers bodies that are broken, whether that be in the valley of dry bones, or the valley overshadowed by death, or communities torn asunder. 

Remembering for God isn’t simply a case of casting her mind back, as we would usually remember. God’s remember is always a re-creation, a bringing back together of what’s become disjointed and scattered, and making whole what has become broken. God’s remembering is a literal re-membering of the body, the remaking of community through the gifts of her Spirit.

This is, if you like, another creation story – the coming together of a people through the creativity of God’s Spirit. The Spirit remembers us as one body – connecting toe bone to foot bone to ankle bone to leg bone to knee bone to thigh bone.

So Paul reminds the broken body around him that God has remembered them. God has remembered their broken body. “God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them” – just as she wanted them to be.

He goes on: “God has put the body together so that there should be no division in the body.” This is what God does and this is why God does it. God knits us together in love to be a strong body, a resilient body, a withstanding body, a body that can stand, even in the valley overshadowed by death.

This is what God does. She puts the body together.  

And this is what she does as a rule. She gives “greater honour to the parts that lacked it”. The rule of God is always to put the last and the least first. Here we see that rule being followed again with greater honour given to the parts that lacked it so that those parts which seemed weaker become indispensable and those parts thought less honourable are treated with special honour. This is how God remembers her people. This is what God builds a body for.

This is not just a spiritual gathering; this is a body meant for action. To be bound together by the Spirit is to be called into the work of justice, to bring good news to the poor, freedom to the prisoners, sight to the blind and liberation to the oppressed. This is the body God is building: a body that stands in stark contrast to the systems of division, hatred and shame that continue to pull our bodies apart.

We are the body God is building – here today listening to the body God prepared for us, listening to Jesus as he finds the body’s purpose revealed through the prophet Isiaiah to read to his fellow villagers in their synagogue in Nazareth.

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for prisoners, and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour. 

Mariann Budde is a member of the body of Christ, gifted to be Bishop of Washington, president within a community God has brought together. It was her responsibility to preach at the prayer service in her cathedral. She preached the only way she could appealing to President Trump for mercy for those afraid because of the policies of the incoming president – those who are gay, lesbian or trans, and immigrants being targeted for deportation. Trump should not have been surprised by her appeal. She was only embodying the very work of the body of Christ. In a time when power is often wielded by shame and divide, the body of Christ cries out on behalf of the oppressed, the disempowered and broken. This is the DNA of the body of Christ. This is all God brings us together for. This is what we are gifted for. We can do no other.

Closing prayer

God of unity, you breathe life into us and call us to be one body in Christ. We thank you for the gifts you’ve placed within each of us, and we ask that you strengthen us as a community, that we may bear witness to your love. We pray for healing where there is division, for hope where there is despair, and for courage to stand with the broken and the oppressed. May your Spirit unite us in justice, peace, and compassion. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.

Some thoughts on Exile and the Dislocated Bones of Ezekiel’s Imagination

Ezekiel is ecstatic in his prophecy. His visions are psychadelic. I wonder if it is this that brings his prophecy home to his fellow exiles – themselves ecstatic in the sense that they are far from home, removed from their stasis. His colourful language in response to God’s call and the suffering of their exile even resonates with us. For example, Ezekiel gives us the image of wheels within wheels which is the phrase often used to describe the powers that be. And, of course, it is Ezekiel who has given us the singalong Dry Bones as he explored the exile experience of dislocation and displacement and their eventual revival and replacement through the image of those dry bones.

(Here’s the Delta Rhythm Boys singing Dry Bones.)

Ezekiel sees the hand of God in exile. According to Ezekiel, it is God who drove Ezekiel and his fellow exiles out, for the sake of their safety. He sees the glory of God moving with them, abandoning the old place and travelling with them to their many places. Far and wide they are scattered and dispersed, becoming a diaspora. God is the scatterer rather than the perpetrators of violence and occupation and he scatters them to save them from the violence and occupation.

Ezekiel’s message would have created a very different horizon for the exiles. Maybe they thought that they were exiled because of their enemies or because of their shame and guilt. But here, Ezekiel is reframing their experience. For those who would listen there is the message of hope – that love is the reason for their exile, a concern for their safety, that God’s glory remains with them, and that that glory will give them fresh heart which will lead to their return.

“Those [the exiles] of whom the inhabitants of Jerusalem have said ‘They have gone far from the Lord; to us this land is given for a possession.’ Say to them: Thus says the Lord God: Though I removed them [the exiles] far away mong the nations, ad though I scattered them among the countries, yet I have been a sanctuary to them for a little while in the countries where they have gone. Therefore say [to the exiles]: Thus says the Lord God: I will gather you from the peoples and assemble you out of the countries where you have been scattered … I will give them one heart, and put a new spirit within them.”

Ezekiel 11

I wonder how many exiles see God as the cause of their exile, and how many see the glory of God travelling with them. Certainly xenophobic communities don’t see exiled refugees in that light as they tighten their borders against them. But let’s imagine what happens when, in the words of Warsan Shire’s poem Home, “home is the mouth of a shark”, when home is a place that is too dangerous, too dangerous to be called home, when home is no place for our gods, when they become god forsaken. The God of Exodus never settles – always ready to move in with us and move out with us. Have we got the theological imagination of Ezekiel to imagine God leading the abused, the tortured from one place of extreme danger to places of sanctuary? Have we got the imagination to see the light of God’s love in our coastal waters guiding exiles to safe havens?

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well
Warsan Shire

According to Ezekiel’s ecstatic imagination the diaspora is God’s doing. It is his dislocation and dispersal. This dispersal is reenacted in our liturgy. At God’s word we go, “in peace to love and serve the world”. We are scattered far and wide like seed. We are made exiles because, in other imaginations of scripture, we are in the world but not of the world (John 17:6), sheep amongst wolves (Matthew 10:16), living in cities while calling another city home (Hebrews 11:10), praying for a kingdom like nothing on earth (Matthew 6:9-13).

Here’s Jamila Lyiscott reading Warsan Shire’s Home.