2025.09.14 | Things in Common

“Things in Common”
Weaving Our Story 
John 17:20–23; Acts 2:42–47

Preached by 
Rev. Dr. Marvin Lance Wiser 
Eden United Church of Christ  
Hayward, CA 

Beloved in Christ, this morning we continue our series, Weaving Our Story. The title for today is Things in Common.” And our Scriptures set the stage: John 17, where Jesus prays that we might be one, and Acts 2, where the first followers of Jesus hold all things in common, break bread, pray, and grow together.

Amados en Cristo, hoy continuamos nuestra serie “Tejiendo Nuestra Historia” con el tema “Cosas en Común.” Nuestras Escrituras nos preparan el terreno: en Juan 17, Jesús ora: “Para que todos sean uno... para que el mundo crea.” No nos pide que seamos idénticos ni que eliminemos nuestras diferencias, sino que estemos unidos en el amor.

Como decían los cristianos en siglos pasados: “En lo esencial, unidad; en lo no esencial, libertad; en todo, caridad.” Que el amor sea el lazo que une, no el dogma, es decir la doctrina, ni la exclusión.

Y en Hechos vemos esta oración vivida: “Todos los que creyeron estaban juntos y tenían todas las cosas en común.” Compartían lo que tenían, partían el pan con alegría y nadie pasaba necesidad. Esta no era la economía imperial de acaparamiento, sino la economía del Espíritu de generosidad y reciprocidad.

Como nos recuerda Hebreos: “Hagan el bien y compartan lo que tienen, porque tales sacrificios agradan a Dios” (Heb 13:16). No venganza, no violencia, sino comunión, generosidad y vida compartida.


In John’s Gospel, Jesus is in the upper room, on the edge of betrayal and crucifixion. And what does he pray? “That they may all be one… so that the world may believe.”

Notice what Jesus doesn’t pray. He doesn’t ask that we be identical. He doesn’t ask that we erase our differences, or settle every argument, or conform to one way of thinking. Jesus prays for unity, not uniformity. A unity rooted in love. A unity that is not about agreeing on every religious doctrine or political strategy, but about living in such a knitted relationship that the world catches a glimpse of God’s love through us.

Theologians in the 17th century war-embroiled Europe would often cite in Latin, “In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas.” “In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity.” Or in plainer words: let love be the tie that binds, not dogma and exclusion.

Then in Acts we hear how this prayer begins to take shape: “All who believed were together and had all things in common.” They sold their possessions and distributed them to any who had need. They broke bread with glad and generous hearts. And day by day the community grew.

This was no empire economy, no Caesar’s way of hoarding wealth and power. The empire’s way is always to take. But the way of Jesus is different: it is a holy rhythm of give and receive. A way of liquidating the lacks of others. A way of meeting needs so that no one goes hungry, no one is left out, no one is forgotten: communal generosity and reciprocity. 

The author of Hebrews says it plainly: “Do good and share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God” (Heb. 13:16). Not vengeance. Not violence. But generosity. Communion. Shared life.

Friends, we need this vision of unity and shared life right now. Because we are living in a time of distortion, when too many voices pervert the Gospel into a weapon of division.

This week, many are rushing to call Charlie Kirk—a man who built his brand and fortune on dehumanizing immigrants, women, LGBTQIA2S+ people, and anyone outside his narrow vision of “real America”—a martyr. Charged rhetoric of eradication ensued, without even knowing the culprit, “the left,” trans folks, and Historical Black Colleges and Universities were immediately put in the cross-hairs. We must speak clearly here: condemning his assassination does not mean whitewashing his legacy of hate and vitriol that fanned the flames of fragmentation.

We can decry murder without crying martyr. We can and should denounce political assassination as the dangerous contagion it is. And we don’t have to accept the efforts of some to portray him as something he simply was not. He was not a bridge-builder. He preached hatred, division, racism, xenophobia, transphobia, that empathy is weakness, contradicting Jesus’ teachings and prayer for unity. He called the preventable deaths of children by gun violence simply the “cost of freedom.” That is not Christ’s Gospel. That is White Christian Nationalism—a heresy of our age, a false gospel rooted in white supremacy and patriarchal violence.

Jesus said, “They will know you are my disciples by your love.” Not by your dogmas, not by your culture wars, not by how many verses you can quote. A mouth full of Scripture and a heart full of hate is antithetical to Gospel. 

So here is the essential line we must draw: when the religion we practice comes between us and our neighbor, it has ceased to be of Christ. Let me say that again: when the religion we practice comes between us and our neighbor, it has ceased to be of Christ.

Jesus never commanded us to love our Scriptures, or our churches, or our traditions. He commanded us to love our neighbors. Full stop. That is the essential. Everything else is commentary.

And when we love in this way—when we live like Acts 2, sharing bread, sharing resources, sharing life—we bear witness that God is love, and love is stronger than hate.

Necesitamos esta visión de unidad y vida compartida ahora mismo, porque demasiadas voces distorsionan el Evangelio convirtiéndolo en un arma de división.

Esta semana, algunos se apresuraron a llamar mártir a Charlie Kirk, un hombre que basó su plataforma en la deshumanización de inmigrantes, mujeres, personas LGBTQ entre más. Debemos ser claros: condenar su asesinato no significa encubrir su legado de odio.

Podemos condenar el asesinato sin llamarle mártir. No fue un constructor de puentes. Al contrario, predicó el miedo, la división y el nacionalismo cristiano blanco: un falso evangelio arraigado en la supremacía y la violencia. Ese no es el Evangelio de Cristo.

Jesús dijo: «Sabrán que son mis discípulos por su amor». Una boca llena de versículos y un corazón lleno de odio no es el Evangelio. La idea central es esta: cuando nuestra religión se interpone entre nosotros y nuestro prójimo, deja de ser de Cristo. Jesús nunca nos mandó amar las Escrituras ni nuestras tradiciones; nos mandó amar a nuestro prójimo. Punto. Eso es lo esencial. Todo lo demás es comentario.

Cuando amamos así —cuando compartimos el pan, los recursos y la vida— damos testimonio de que Dios es amor, y que el amor es más fuerte que el odio. Amados, este es nuestro llamado: tejer nuestra historia juntos. Diferentes hilos, idiomas e historias, pero un solo tapiz. Jesús oró para que fuéramos uno. Así que abrazamos nuestras diferencias siempre enfocándonos en lo esencial: el amor que nos une. Así el mundo sabrá que somos seguidores y no sólo profesores de Cristo.

And for our Gen Alpha siblings—let me put it this way. The Kindom of God is not like a one-on-one match where someone wins 6–7, eking out a narrow victory while the other side loses. No—the Kindom of God is more like a 4–1 team victory, where everyone shares in the joy together. The Gospel is not about keeping score. It is about holding life sacred and in common.

Beloved, this is our calling: to weave our story together. To take all the threads—different colors, different textures, different languages, different histories—and stitch them into a single tapestry. Not because we erase our differences, but because love is the loom that holds us together.

Jesus prayed that we might be one, and the Spirit birthed a community where “all things were in common.” That is the witness we are called to embody today: a witness of generosity, neighbor-love, and nonviolence.

Let us then recommit ourselves:

  • To reject the false gospel of white Christian nationalism.

  • To resist the temptation to vengeance or martyr-making.

  • To embrace our differences while standing in unity of love.

  • To share what we have, so that none among us is in need.

This is how the world will know we are followers and not just professors of Christ. Not by our creeds, not by our politics, but by our love. Amen.

Brenda Loreman