We cannot know whether we love God although there may be
strong reason for thinking so, but there can be no doubt about
whether we love our neighbor or not. Be sure that, in proportion
as you advance in affection for sisters and brothers, you are
increasing your love of God. - Teresa of Avila
Love within the faith community has very much been on my mind during these cold, damp, foggy days of winter. The "Add the Words" campaign caused me to reflect on how Christians respond to each other here in Boise, and this period of transition in my congregation has invited me consider the role that love for one another plays in encouraging congregational engagement.
On both counts, I have more questions than answers.
The Idaho State Affairs Committee finally agreed to have a hearing on a bill that would add the words "sexual orientation and gender identity" to the Idaho Human Rights Act - and if passed, give important protection to members of the lgbtq community. This hearing has been nine years in the making, and gave people on both sides of the issue an opportunity to testify regarding their views on adding this protection to the Human Rights Act.
The testimony brought the sharp divide within the Christian community in Idaho into clear focus. Individuals who expressed their love of God through a literal interpretation of single verses of the Bible and a desire to defend God (and the Bible) in an almost aggressive/warrior way shared the same auditorium with other individuals who expressed their love of God through a desire to defend those who had been abused and marginalized not only by government and society, but often by other churches. Both sides were equally passionate, but that passion was expressed in two different directions - one side created walls behind which their God and their ideals (and way of life) could be protected, and the other side sought to bring down walls and create a more inclusive, tolerant, and respectful community.
I am hardly an objective observer of this process, as I strongly support the Add the Words movement and lead a progressive Christian Church within a denomination that proudly seeks to be open and affirming. But as a contemplative, I spend a good part of my time seeking the common threads that God is weaving through our spiritual journeys. Where will we find the common threads in such a divided and divisive situation? What do those who want to protect and defend God and their way of life share in common with those who have a more open and inclusive view of God and the faith community? How can two groups who want to do what is right and best, and be faithful to their God, reach such fundamentally different conclusions?
Is there any common ground - any common threads? And if not, what does that say for the amputated and amputating Body of Christ?
What would it be like if members of the Body of Christ who held such different views were to commit to sitting together in a room for 30 minutes each week for silent prayer, and would make a commitment to pray for each other. After a time, what would it be like if that 30 minutes included a time for gentle sharing? Would those gathered find common ground - common threads of experience with which they could weave a different outcome? Or are we destined to separate into groups of people who share similar beliefs, opinions and viewpoints?
I also ponder this question as I watch our mainline denominational churches deal with our "post-modern" world, and our need to change/adapt to this new reality, or perish. In recent history the emergent/emerging church movement has invited us to the edge of what is possible, creating a discussion that often pits those who want to celebrate/preserve the traditional/familiar with those who want to embrace change. My congregation is no exception to this discussion, as we try to discern how to be faithful to our heritage while being vital/relevant in 2015. The old ways/structures do not work so well anymore, and reality strongly invites us to change/evolve, or risk eventual death. Like many other congregations, we are in a time of transition.
None of this surprises me - it is the reality of our time. What does trouble me, however - and in no small proportion - is the acceptance I see in our mainline churches of consumer Christianity. "I want what I want when I want it, and if I cannot have it, I will go elsewhere to get my needs met."
When did the mantra for the Body of Christ become "my way or the highway?" How in the world did we get to a place where it is "all about me?"
We have lost something precious in our post-modern church life: We have lost the reality that we come to church to serve God and one another. We come to worship to open our hearts, minds and lives to something greater than ourselves - God and our sisters and brothers, and the world that surrounds us. We are not the center of the experience. And the gratification of our personal needs cannot and must not be the sole criteria by which we determine our participation in our faith community. As uncomfortable as that is to contemplate, church really needs to stop being an exercise in spiritual consumerism, and more an exercise in service.
I want to propose a new series of responses for faithful Christians who want a thriving, growing church community that is inclusive and diverse:
Instead of saying "I hate it when we have "X" in worship, and if this continues, I will worship elsewhere" - try saying - "I did not like that we had "X" in worship today, but I noticed that others were touched by it, so I offered thanks that their needs were being met." Notice the shift in emphasis - you may not personally like "X," but you can be thankful that it touched other hearts and lives. Such a simple shift takes us from consumer church to the Body of Christ. And in a congregation that actively seeks to have inclusive and diverse experiences in worship and community life, it means that everyone can guarantee that they will regularly experience things they love, hate, and feel pretty neutral towards. The key is to remember that what you love is something that someone else (maybe someone sitting right next to you) might hate, and their choice to be gracious instead of angry and self absorbed will enhance the experience for all.
Of course we can avoid all this compromise and the discomfort of having to accommodate aspects of community life that we do not like by dividing into smaller and smaller affinity groups - a danger, I fear, in some thinking within the emergent church movement. It may be comforting and comfortable to only be around people who like what I like and want to do what I want to do, but the church would be diminished by such homogenization. Diversity is one of our greatest strengths. We learn so much from the different experiences of one another, and we lose many of our rough edges by being sandpaper for one another! And community is a great place to learn the subtle distinctions among the concepts of self-aware, self-care, self-less and self-ish.
Perhaps those of us who are committed to embodying a faith expressed by our open, inclusive still-speaking God of love and justice, can use our life in the local Body of Christ as a way to deepen our ability to find those common threads of understanding, respect, tolerance and experience with our sisters and brothers who love what we hate (and vice versa). As we learn this skill and develop the maturity that comes through practicing it, maybe we will be able to apply it within the wildly diverse group of people who call themselves Christian, and then to the even greater diversity found within community of people of faith.
May we seek to find those common threads, and may Teresa and Los Tejedor guide us on our journey.
With love and hope, even in the fog,
Kim
