When the walls come tumbling down: Ephesians 2:11-22.

In Baptist circles these days it has become a part of one's homiletical responsibility to quote Fred Craddock as well as the biblical canon. Indeed, some preachers almost do not know the difference between Craddock and the canon! However, let me show due deference and begin with a Craddock story.

Craddock tells about returning to his small west Tennessee hometown each Christmas. Every year he would visit an old friend named Buck. Buck owned a cafe on the main street of the town, and he always gave Craddock a cup of coffee and a piece of chess pie. One Christmas when Craddock went in to get his coffee and pie, Buck said, "Come on, let's go get a cup of coffee." "What's the matter?" asked Craddock, "isn't this a restaurant?" "I don't know; sometimes I wonder," Buck fired back.

Later, sitting across from Craddock, Buck asked, "Did you see the curtain?" "Yes, Buck, I saw the curtain; I always see the curtain." The curtain was in Buck's cafe, separating the front half of the cafe from the back half. White folks came in the front of the cafe from the main street, but black folks came in from an alley behind the cafe. The curtain was there to separate, to separate white people from black people.

Buck looked up and said, "Fred, the curtain has got to come down." "Good," Craddock responded, "Pull her down!" "That's easy enough for you to say," said Buck. "You come in once a year and tell me how to run my business." "Then leave it up," Craddock countered. In personal agony, Buck said, "Fred, I take that curtain down, and I lose my customers; I leave that curtain up, and I lose my soul!"

Buck was right, of course. Some curtains have to come down. Some curtains have to come down because if we leave them up we will lose our souls, no matter how many church customers we gain! The church of Jesus Christ simply must rip some curtains from top to bottom and dump them in the garbage. So "Jesus cried again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom" (Mt. 27:50-51).

Not only curtains but walls came tumbling down that day when Jesus cried with a loud voice. The wails of anger, the walls of hostility, the "I'm-better-than-you walls," the "I'm a chosen one and you are not walls," the "I'm a male one and you are not walls," and the "I am a clergy one and you are not wails." My! My! My! How those wails came crashing down at Calvary! And no one has described it better than Eugene Peterson in his rendering of Ephesians 2:14 in The Message:

   The Messiah has made things up between us so that we're now
   together on this, both non-Jewish outsiders and Jewish insiders. He
   tore down the wall we used to keep each other at a distance. He
   repealed the law code that had become so clogged with fine print and
   footnotes that it hindered more than it helped. Then he started
   over. Instead of continuing with two groups of people separated by
   centuries of animosity and suspicion, he created a new kind of human
   being, a fresh start for everybody.

By the way, did you know that there really was a wall in the Jewish temple in Jerusalem that divided Jews from Gentiles? Right in the middle of God's house stood a wall that divided people by race! But that racial and ethnic wall came crashing down that day at Calvary!

Did you know that there really was a wall in the Jewish temple in Jerusalem that divided Jewish males from Jewish females? That's right! A gender wall--a "boy" wall and a "girl" wall right in the middle of God's house! But that sexist wall came crashing to the ground that day at Calvary!

Did you know that there really was a wall in the Jewish temple at Jerusalem that separated the priests from the lay people? Right in the middle of God's church, a wall stood that said "No laity beyond this wall!" But that clerical wall came tumbling down that day at Calvary! Calvary was not simply a crucifixion. It was a construction project! Jesus was tearing religious stuff up, hanging there spread eagle before the world to mock.

And did you know that there really was a wall in the Jewish temple in Jerusalem that separated the holy things of God from the common things of life. That's right! There was a "spiritual" wall fight in the middle of God's house! This is holy; this is not. But that spiritual wall came tumbling down that day at Calvary.

But what happens to the priesthood when the temple falls? What happens to the priesthood, the religious tribe, the professionals who did the temple work ... what happened to them when the walls come tumbling down? It is a question that in many ways has been at the heart of 2,000 years of Christian history? It haunts us all; it haunted them in the first century and it haunts us today.

What happens to the priesthood when the temple caves in? Who do the priests become? How do you find a new identity when you have lost your profession? What do the priests do now? And where do they do it? When the walls of the temple come tumbling down,what happens then to the professional priesthood? Do the falling walls mean no more priesthood?

When the walls of the temple come tumbling down, what happens to all the sacrifices? Do the falling walls mean no more sacrifices to God? When the walls of the temple come tumbling down, where do the priests do their work? When the temple is gone, where do the priests go? And when the walls of the temple come tumbling down, what happens to the house of God itself?.

When the walls come tumbling down, the question that not only haunted them but taunts us is what now happens to the priesthood? You know who the priests are! They are the people who intercede with God on behalf of the people, and they are the people who interpret what God says to the people. You simply have to have priests. So, what happens to the priesthood when the walls thud to the ground?

First, when the walls come tumbling down, the priests must come up with a new definition of priesthood. And the early church did precisely that. And the new definition became alarmingly universal. Now, priests are no longer Jews or males or the ordained or the people who meddled in holy things. Now the definition of "priest" is being stretched. And it involves you. Because now, the elite priesthood of a few is replaced with the common priesthood of us all. Here is faith going democratic. To put it in southern language, "Ya'll all are now called!" When you come to the mercy of God, you come to the priesthood. There is no mercy without priesthood, and there is no priesthood without mercy.

That ripped curtain, "torn in two, from top to bottom," meant that all believers now have equal "access in one spirit to the father" (Eph. 2:18). You are a priest not by virtue of ordination. You are priest by virtue of baptism. "You are a royal priesthood," said the writer of I Peter. Royal! That means privilege! But then he added, "You are ... a royal priesthood THAT you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light" (1 Pet. 2:9). That you may declare. That means responsibility.

What the church needs today is a church that does not need a professional priesthood! A church, where individuals take so seriously their calling as individual priests before God, that they preach the word and live the word and give sacrificially for the word! The church described in the Book of Acts is a church led by the people of God. The title of "priest" is never used by New Testament writers to refer to a select and special group of Christians called "clergy."

He meant well, that deacon who prayed the prayer the first day Chuck Poole came on the scene as our pastor at the First Baptist Church of Christ at Macon: "Lord," the deacon prayed, "help us as members of the church to help him be a good minister of Jesus Christ in Macon." He meant well. He was sincere. But he got it wrong. The prayer goes like this: "Lord, help us as ministers of Jesus Christ in this church in Macon help Chuck to help us become better ministers of Jesus Christ in Macon." When the temple came crashing down, we got a new priesthood!

Second, when the walls come tumbling down, the priests must find some new sacrifices to make. The old sacrifices were animals. They were dead animals! But after the temple came crushing to the ground and there was no more temple, do you know what became of the sacrifices to God? Do you know what the new sacrifices are? The new sacrifices are no longer animals but humans. The new sacrifices, so the church said, are no longer dead humans but living humans.

The new thing that is offered up to God? Why it is our very lives! We become the thing that is offered up to God. "I beseech you therefore brothers and sisters that you present your bodies, living sacrifices to God" (Rom. 12:1).

Priesthood is an awesome responsibility. It means that I am expendable! It means that we give our lives up to something bigger than ourselves.

Walker Percy, Catholic psychiatrist-turned novelist, was one of the few prophets we had until cancer-death hunted him down a few years ago. Percy often said that the trouble with most people is that they are not up to anything significant! Not up to anything significant! We have forever tried to transform the universal priesthood into something insignificant.

The Jews did that in that temple. The people, the universal priesthood, became passive observers. They stood and watched the real work being done by the professional priests as they offered up dead sacrifices. Ditto in the early years of Christianity. The universal priesthood became passive recipients. They watched an elite priesthood administer the sacraments. Ditto in Protestantism. The universal priesthood became passive listeners. They watched and heard an elite priesthood deliver sermons.

But the new priesthood is no longer passive observers or passive recipients or simply passive hearers. Discipleship is no longer a spectator sport. You have been called. And you have been called to give your life for the cause of love.

Third, when the walls come tumbling down, the priests must find a new place to work. With the temple destroyed, we priests have to find a new place to do our work. The work is no longer at the top of Poplar Street. The Temple is gone! It really did come crashing down in 70 AD. But we tried to build it back and simply change its name: "Temple Baptist Church." "Immanuel Baptist Church." "First Baptist Church." If we are not careful, we will make the same mistake they made. We will think that the real work is in the meeting place.

But the real work, as Baptist Carlyle Marney tried to teach us, takes place downtown in Macon and Atlanta and Charlotte, in classrooms, in mortgage offices, judge's chambers, operating rooms, counselor's quarters, and much less attractive places.

We have spent a lot of time trying to get each other to come to church. Now the trick is to teach each other how to go home from church and how to exercise our priesthood in our own little parishes Monday through Saturday. That's why Kenneth Chafin translated the Great Commission, "Go ye into all your world!" The church meets at the top of Poplar, but the church does its work of peacemaking and justice building and honesty-being; the church does all of that ministry downtown. I like to look around the church buildings to see what other buildings are standing close by. At a stop light the other day, I saw a church steeple a half block away. Within my eyesight was an investment company, a service station, a funeral home, a beauty salon, and a grocery story. Those are the places where the priests do their work!

Much of church life today in America seems to be spent designing church programs that "attract the attractive." The programs and the worship appear to be designed to entertain the customers. And I wonder: how does that kind of church life fit in with the six groups that Jesus identified with. You remember those: the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the ones in prison (Mt. 25:34-46). How much of your church budget touches those six groups? How much of our denominational money is spent on those unattractive souls? Do you have a line item in your budget marked "Hungry Folk?" A line item for "Thirsty Folk?" "Lonely Folk?" "Poorly Clothed Folk," "Sick Folk," and "Folk in Prison." When the walls of the temple fall, we priests of God find our work in other venues.

Fourth, when the walls come tumbling down, the priests must get a new vision of "temple." Did you notice by chance how the writer of Ephesians closed the second chapter in verse 19? "So then ..." So then, because all of these ugly old walls of race and gender and caste and holiness have fallen.... "So then," because Christ and his wrecking crew have broken down the wall of hostility, the walls that kept us at a distance.

"So then," and he goes on, "you are no longer strangers and sojourners but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets. Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also are built into it for a dwelling place of God in the spirit" (Eph. 19-22).

The new temple is no building at all. It is a much more fragile structure, a much less dependable structure. It is made of the likes of us. We, you and I, are God's temple! What an astounding thought! We are the dwelling place of God!

The concept of "place" is very important in religion. The Jewish temple was an important place. St. Peter's in Rome is a critical place to millions of Catholics. The First Baptist Church of Christ of Macon that stands at the top of Poplar is a very important place. I go there regularly to get nourished and stretched and forgiven. I love the sanctuary, the stained glass windows, the Gothic architecture that draws my eye upward to the ceiling and beyond. I really love that place. But, my friends, if fire struck that place a fourth time in our church's history and burned that old building to the ground, we would meet somewhere the next Sunday and we would see each other and hug each other and ask about each other's children and Alzheimer parents.

We fit together. We are the Temple of God. We are priests turned loose to sacrifice our very lives for others. What a priesthood we are. What sacrifices we have to make. What places we do our work in. What a fragile but nourishing temple. We are up to something significant. Thank God! The walls come tumbling down!

Walter B. Shurden is the executive director of The Center for Baptist Studies, Mercer University, Macon, Georgia.