The Calling of Quarks

The Calling of Quarks--November 17, 2017

"Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." [Romans 12:14-15]

Christians are like quarks. At least, we are supposed to be. 

That is to say, whatever we go through, we are supposed to be able to count on going through it with others who share the journey with us.  Good or bad, or a mix of both.  Rejoicing or weeping, or the bittersweetness of laughing and crying at the same moment.  Together.

Here's a little quick and dirty particle physics (which is to say, I'm only an amateur with an interest, rather than a trained scientist, so this could be a little rough if you run it past your scientist uncle or that friend of yours who works at the Large Hadron Collider).  When I was going through school, they taught us that atoms were made up of protons, electrons, and neutrons, and that, they said, was it.  No smaller parts.  No further in.  Well, turns out... there's more "stuff" that protons and electrons and such are made of.  Namely, quarks.

Now in addition to being just tinier little flecks of "stuff," here's a curious thing about these tiny particles.  Quarks are never alone.  Never.  Can't do it.  Can't happen.  They can be paired up with other quarks, or put together with anti-quarks (yes, that's a thing, too), but they are never alone.   In fact--and this is the thing that blows my mind--if you pull on two quarks that are bonded together, to try and pull them apart, it requires so much energy that at the precise instant you would manage to pull the two quarks apart, the energy you have spent pulling on the quarks is converted into matter, and two new quarks appear.  And they are--you guessed it--each attached to one of the two you just split apart.  No kidding.  

All of which is to say, quarks never face the cold empty space we call the universe alone.  Different quarks (or anti-quarks) might be together at different times, but they are never left to their own devices, and they are never abandoned.  At the precise moment it looks like they will be alone, a new particle appears at just the right time and place.

And that, dear friends, is why I say the followers of Jesus are called to be like quarks.  As Paul tells it, we are called to accompany one another--into the messiness of one another's lives. Through anything and everything.  Through rejoicing, and through weeping.  We are called to be with one another in this life, and to let our with-ness become a part of our witness.  After all, how are we supposed to share the news of a God who enters into the mess that is human history with us in the human life of Jesus, if we are not able and committed to doing the same in our life together with each other?

It is a hard thing, of course, to make the commitment to accompany one another through the laughter as well as the tears.  Each is hard in different ways.  It is hard enough to share someone else's sorrow when we have enough of our own, that is true.  But it can be hard to be happy for someone else when they are happy, too, if it ricochets back into our own lives when we aren't so happy at the moment.  But Paul doesn't ask us to do this on the condition of it being easy.  He treats us like quarks: we just do it.  Whatever energy it requires, whatever power or force needs to be summoned within us to make the effort, we show up for each other, easy or not, because that is simply the nature of Jesus' kind of community.  

That by itself will be countercultural.  The world in which we live is great at the short-term, minimal-commitment, quick photo-op way of relating to people.  We do fine with the quick Facebook post of support to someone else, or the banal generalities of offering our "thoughts and prayers" without any actual willingness to actually show up for those we say we are thinking of and praying for. We can all make Sunday morning small talk with other people in the pews and have a perfectly cordial conversation.  But the long-run, long-term, long-haul presence, living through messes with one another, weeping at one another's heartaches and rejoicing in someone else's good news--that is a rare bird.  But it is our calling.  That is what it looks like to be quark-like people: who promise to each other (and mean it) that no matter what you face, you will not face it alone.

Today, there is a great cloud of cross-marked faces who make that promise...for you.  And today, there is someone who needs to hear that promise from you, too.

Lord Jesus, give us the courage and strength to walk with one another through joys and sorrows, and the confidence to trust that you are raising up others to walk with us as well.