Hang Together, or Hang Separately
Matthew 22:34-46
Loving God and neighbor
22:34 When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together,
22:35 and one of them, an expert in the law, asked him a question to test him.
22:36 "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"
22:37 He said to him, "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.'
22:38 This is the greatest and first commandment.
22:39 And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'
22:40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets."
When a lot of our church and family friends heard that Dara and I were moving to a United Methodist retirement community called “Wesbury,” they questioned why we were doing so. I’m 72, Dara is 75, and few people seem to believe we are that old, basing their beliefs on our physical appearance, overall health, and rather ambitious activity level. But we are that old, and unlike many of our friends, we have little family in the region, or at least family that could be part of a “caring network,” should the inevitable effects of aging finally start to come our way (our two adult children live in faraway places). Hence, we decided to put our names on the “waiting list” for a Wesbury “Villa,” which are basically stand-alone, single-story homes of varying sizes, grouped into a “village” Wesbury calls “Thoburn Village,” named after a late United Methodist Bishop. Wesbury is one of those “age in place” facilities, and should we need escalating levels of care, ranging from assisted living to acute care, and even memory care, they have it. Truth be told, Dara wanted to get on Wesbury’s waiting list immediately upon my retirement back in 2021, but I was the holdout. First of all, I liked the Pittsburgh area, and coveted a chance to enjoy our townhouse and its location when I wasn’t responsible for a busy church! Secondly, I must admit, I don’t like the idea of accepting that I AM getting older. Eventually, though, Dara’s better mind won out, and we went on the waiting list about midway through 2022. And after about three and a half years on it, a nice “Villa” came open, and we took it. So now, we are residents of Meadville, PA, just up the road a piece from Allegheny College.
Why am I telling you this story? It’s mostly to take yet another tack on fleshing out what is important about “community.” Hillary Clinton made quite a fuss a number of years ago, talking about how it “takes a village” to raise a child well. Well, I would suggest this is true of a good many things in life, including dealing with the “creep” of aging! We now have our “village.” Things at Wesbury are great. Our home is much more safe than a townhouse, which is basically STAIRS, held together by a random assortment of rooms. Thoburn Village has a number of beautiful, wide streets with next to NO car traffic (while not a “gated” community, Wesbury IS private), and ample places to take our daily walks, including a nice little “nature trail,” maintained by the Wesbury Auxiliary. Each month, a rather impressive “menu” of activities and local trips to restaurants and “places to see” is posted, and Thoburn residents can sign up. We do, and have been regulars on the Wesbury “bus” that picks us up at our door and shuttles us to some great venues. We are accompanied by our neighbors and new friends, all of whom share one important quality: they all made the decision to “invest” in being proactive about a place where they can “age in place,” alleviating most of the “fear of the future.”
Our new community of friends is an interesting lot. Most of them were professionals of some sort—teachers, lawyers, clergy, engineers, physicians, bankers, and even a few military career folk. They are indeed an interesting lot, and each is willing to share her or his story, both for the interest of the group, and if something they have learned may be of value to someone else here. This IS a caring community, with an active prayer chain, and some good listening ears. Beyond that, Wesbury has a wonderful staff of activities people and management folk who legitimately care for its residents. We have a fantastic chaplain (an excellent preacher, too!), community rooms, monthly potluck dinners and “birthday bashes,” and rooms designated for various activities, such as an art room, which I frequent. We even have a clubhouse for various gatherings and events, which includes a small “workout” room we can use if the weather keeps us from our regular trips to the downtown YMCA. For us, it has become a kind of “Mecca,” providing spacious living quarters, great new friends, and a wide range of activities, all while giving us the freedom to do what we choose. I’m sure we will find its flaws, as even the best of human community has them, but overall, I have to say that it is “modeling” what a caring community can be. I have to ask myself how we can create more of these in our world. The church SHOULD be one, but obviously this isn’t always the case. And our nation and its geographical communities are so divided now, both politically and fiscally, that it is more true than ever what poet Robert Frost said: “Fences make good neighbors.”
Side story: I HAVE discovered one of the flaws of life in Thoburn Village. Each of our “Villas” has a series of fire and smoke sensors hard-wired to the Meadville Fire Department. Thanks to my love of cooking, which often involves stovetop stir-frying, I have had a man in a raincoat with an AX in my kitchen on two occasions, summoned up by overly sensitive electronics, rather than any actual fire or smoke! We’re working on that…
I believe it was Benjamin Franklin who, commenting on the Declaration of Independence and the firestorm it would precipitate, said: “Gentlemen, we must hang together, or we will most assuredly hang separately.” While it is on the “dangerous” side of what it means to eschew togetherness and community, he made an important point. Not “hanging together” as a community drawn together by some common pursuit, belief, or practice, can mean something more benign, like loneliness, or just winding up with inadequate resources to meet any goals best tackled with others. America was born of a pioneer “spirit” often labeled “rugged individualism.” If there is a bogus “national religion,” this would be it. Read any history you like, and you will quickly see that what pushed the frontier Westward was “hanging together” with others—wagon trains, expeditionary parties, and the communities they built along the way. (Of course, the violence and injustice they also perpetrated against tribal peoples who already inhabited the land is another matter not to be addressed in this message, but it IS important to realize that in the settlers’ efforts to drive out the indigenous peoples, they had to “break” the Native American communities to do so, separating families, tribes, and eventually the horrendous “Trail of Tears.”) If there is anything that truly CAN be said to be the “secret” to American expansion and survival, it is that phrase, “hanging together.” We all know that world wars—especially World War II—brought people of all walks, religions, and philosophies together to function as one large community, in order to successfully sue for peace against oppressive foes. The striving for civil rights by persons of color in this country would have had a much tougher row to hoe, had leaders and people of the majority race not banded together, supported, and marched with Black leaders. (Unfortunately, too many members of the white majority race have in recent years voted in leaders who seem bent on revoking the hard-won human rights of this movement, so not all “hanging together” is productive, or even moral work.)
The fact is that whatever higher pursuits a people choose to engage in, coming together—“hanging together”—is an essential part of the effort. People must focus on the goal at hand, set aside the things that separate them, and work toward that goal. Franklin’s little play on words is actually quite profound. Had the signers of the Declaration of Independence immediately reverted to the differences that spurred so much deliberation in their body before the final declaration was agreed upon and signed, they would have eventually been “picked off” by the powerful British regime. However, by hanging together, they became a powerful ideological force that went on to breed a powerful citizenry bent on independence, and an even more powerful and effective military. Again, the secret to this latter factor in the war of independence was kept together and fought as one force by an historic “catalyst”—General George Washington, a man who famously set aside individual goals in favor of birthing a new nation “conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all [men] are created equal,” a phrase later uttered by another great “catalyst.”
It is of great importance to note that this week’s text is Jesus’ great concatenation of the Ten Commandments into two easy to remember: love God; love your neighbor. I suppose that one could argue that these are also “nested” commandments—we demonstrate our love of God BY loving our neighbor as ourselves. Jesus says something remarkable about these two commandments—"On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” How often do we miss seeing the foundational things that much greater structures “hang” on! The whole of the United States as a nation “hangs” on the words of the Declaration of Independence that created it, and the constitution that became our “operating rules,” and that which guards human freedoms. For Jesus to say that everything his followers had previously believed in could “hang” from these two commandments was truly revolutionary. And we keep forgetting both the simplicity and the profundity of his assertion. Our human tendency is to keep adding rules and defining how and to whom these additional rules apply. This is what weakens any faith system—setting too-restrictive boundaries on what the resulting community should “look like” and how it should function. Eventually, the community is either split or destroyed, when a separate faction that disagrees reaches a plurality level and begins to wreck things or “takes it ball and bat and goes home,” as they say. As the American revolutionaries found out, “hanging together” is hard work. And as we Christians have discovered, “loving God and neighbor” isn’t easy, either. But if you want to build a strong, empathetic, and edifying community, the work must be engaged. Dissent can indeed be a helpful corrective element of a “hanging together” community, but only if it is SEEN as a corrective, and only if the ones raising it have building up the community in mind. Likewise, those who start advancing tighter restrictions on the community might have altruistic aims in mind, but too often they can’t see how this may also choak off the community, if done unchecked. “Majority votes” may be one of the worst things to happen to struggling communities.
Dara and I watched an interesting documentary on the Statue of Liberty the other night. Frederic Auguste Bartholdi was the French sculptor who created this inspirational work of art, but it never would have been erected without an internal “strut,” an engineering marvel in itself, designed by Gustave Eiffel, who would later do a little tower building of his own. You don’t see Eiffel’s strut when you gaze upon Lady Liberty, but it is there, hanging everything together against the elements, keeping her strong. Even as it took two geniuses and a host of fabricators and financiers to bring her to life, so it is with the church and any vital human endeavor.
The two “simple” commandments Jesus gave us are like Eiffel’s strut. When they work, they are “behind the scenes.” What we see is the outer “work of art”—the loving, supportive, and edifying community they create, in the church, and in the world. Franklin was certainly right: We either hang together, or we will most assuredly hang separately. Jesus’ words are much “softer,” but they mean exactly the same thing. Amen.





