Neighbor Talk
Being the newcomer can be very awkward. My family and I recently
moved to a brand new neighborhood where we don't know a soul. The whole
month of March unfurled, and I was secretly hoping for that fresh loaf
of bread or the home baked apple pie to arrive at our doorstep with a
kind welcoming note attached. Didn't come. I was waiting for the
neighbor to yell across the street, "Hey, welcome to town. Come on
over for a cup of coffee." Didn't happen. A few weeks ago,
finally, I saw a neighbor walking down our side of the street with her
little boy. I flagged her! "Hi, we're new to your
neighborhood," I said. "How old's your little boy. He's
welcome to come play in our backyard with my child. Please stop by
anytime. Be great to have tea…" The neighbor was very nice
but noncommittal. "Sure, yeah, that would be great," she
replied. I've noticed since that encounter that I haven't seen her walk
near my side of the street. Did I say something wrong, I wonder, or
come on too strong? Maybe I seem too desperate to have a neighbor.
Maybe I'm not her type. It's a little awkward being new.
As this Sunday is one in recognition of being Open and Affirming, I
got to thinking. How can my little feelings of awkwardness I'm
experiencing in my new neighborhood because I haven't been included or
reached out to even compare to the feelings someone might have who
wants desperately to come to church, but, because of her sexual
orientation, or maybe her race, or her economic background, or perhaps
because of her disabilities, she worries about whether or not she will
fit in and be accepted. Maybe you could take my feelings of awkwardness
and multiply those feelings times 100 or 200, or maybe the feelings of
awkwardness are even off the scale for someone who feels unwelcome by
the church because of precisely who she or he is.
A fellow pastor, Greg Morisse, who is also a gay man, puts it this
way.
"I think many churches fear being ONA because it will feel
awkward. Suddenly, the church isn't comfortable or normal, it's
standing (or at least being in solidarity) with the outcasts. One fear
that people have is that we will make those who disagree with
homosexuality feel awkward. We'll 'outcast' those in the majority with
power by being on the outskirts.
"You want to know what awkward is? Awkward is walking into a
church unsure if you will be accepted or rejected. Awkward is
wondering if the acceptance you do receive is based on the fact that
they don't know yet. Awkward is wondering, when you walk up to God's
table, if you are welcome. Awkward is wondering if God loves you. And
awkward is feeling somewhat guilty for standing up and being proud of
who God made you to be."
In this day and age, praise God that we are celebrating 10 years of
being an open and affirming church. What drew
me to our church initially, and perhaps this has been the case for some
of you too, was the inclusive, welcoming message of our website. The
opening text on our homepage states: "What if they built a church
with love for God and our neighbors and a sense of Christian
responsibility- for fairness, justice, openness, and the inclusion of
all God's children? If we build such a church with God's guidance, we
believe you will come." If you scroll down further on the web
page,
you will see our Open and Affirming symbol and the following
tenants of belief outlined:
- We hold that discrimination on the basis of race, gender, age,
sexual orientation, nationality, ethnicity, economic condition,
marital status, or physical limits is incompatible with the Gospel
of Jesus Christ;
- We acknowledge that throughout our history, the Christian church
has taught and practiced discrimination against lesbian, gay, and
bisexual people, [and I would add here -- others.]
This is not minor stuff. Our Open and Affirming stance is of major
importance in our world, particularly now I would say. This week, as
the excitement grew and the world watched for the white smoke signals
ushering in a new pope, I couldn't help but wonder, how will this
passage of time be for people who have traditionally been outcast by
the church? Will gays and lesbians feel any more comfortable with the
election of the new Pope for instance? John Thomas, the United Church
of Christ general minister and president, said days before the new
Pope's election:
"Churches throughout the world are torn by disagreement over
the membership and ministry of gay and lesbian persons. With many
other churches, the Catholic Church has tried in vain to express
compassion and care while at the same time voicing traditional
theological judgments that demean and exclude. I yearn for a pope
prepared to risk for the sake of inclusion, who will ask the Church to
enter into a time of self-reflection and pastoral listening with its
gay and lesbian members that might shape new and welcoming moral and
theological understandings." (http://www.ucc.org/news/r041505b.htm)
It is clear to me that one of our greatest strengths as a church is
that we are welcoming and hospitable. A couple of weeks ago, I went to
another UCC church in my new neighborhood to check it out and even
though I was there at this church function for close to 45 minutes, I
left not knowing anyone's name. No one gave me any information about
the church. No one welcomed me. I wasn't asked how I came to find out
about this church nor even invited to come back. My preliminary
experience as a stranger at that UCC church was in stark contrast to
what I see happening here at our church. There are many welcoming souls
in this place.
But there is always more welcoming work to be done. A few weeks ago,
the youth invited us in a wonderful way to imagine what God looks like.
In the kids drawings,
which are now displayed by the entryway, one of the kids drew a picture
of Jesus and wrote, "I think God looks like Jesus." I'd love
to know, if any of you were asked to conjure up a primary image of
Jesus, what would it be. For one little three year old boy, the primary
image he has of Jesus right now is of Jesus walking on water, because
he thinks that is pretty cool, as cool as what any rescue hero could
do.
A primary image for me of Jesus is of Jesus sitting around an open
table, inviting everyone in, especially those to whom others have said,
"Don't come, you're not invited."
And a real close up image of Jesus for me that resonates is, not so
much the image of Jesus lying on a cross, but an image of Jesus very
much alive with arms reaching out. I imagine Jesus with extended arms,
open hands, inviting, welcoming, as if embracing the room, reaching out
to you, reaching out to me, reaching out to those who have been kept at
bay, saying "Come, come to Me. Let us no longer be strangers. You
belong in the center of things." A remarkable aspect of our faith
is the way we can embody Christ. As we pray, and as we call out to
Jesus and bring Jesus further and further into our hearts, I imagine a
kind of reflex developing. As Jesus enters our hearts, our arms then
open up like Jesus', our arms reach out more and more, so that we
welcome, we embrace, as Jesus does.
Kosuke Koyama, a religious scholar from Union Theological Seminary
writes that the "Heartbeat of Christianity" is about being a
good neighbor. In the common definition, neighbor is the person who
lives close by. However, Koyama writes, "In the Bible, neighbor
refers more generally to people who are not members of one's family or
one's neighborhood. "Hence," he writes, "the Great
Commandment - You shall love your neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:18) -
contains the expanding and deepening vision of an even greater
commandment - "You shall love the alien, [or the stranger,] as
yourself." I like the way Koyama sums it up, "Neighbor-talk
or (neighborology) is the heartbeat of Christ-talk (Christology.)"1
One of the most popular New Testament stories is that of the Good
Samaritan. When Jesus told people to love your neighbor, a lawyer asked
him to clarify -- "Just who is my neighbor?" as if he was
looking for a legal definition. And Jesus, with all his humor and
cleverness at hand, turns the lawyer's question on its head with a
parable. You know how the story goes. We learn that a man is lying
injured on the side of the road to Jericho, having been robbed and left
half dead. A priest passes by and later a Levite, both ignoring the
injured man. It wasn't until a Samaritan arrived that the man was taken
care of. The Samaritan, himself a foreigner and an outcast, had mercy
and compassion upon the stranger. With this parable, by the time Jesus
is done with the lawyer's question, the question has morphed from
"Who is my neighbor" to "Who is being a neighbor?"
Jesus than says, "Go and do likewise." Deitrich Bonhoeffer
writes in his book, The Cost of Discipleship, "Who is my
neighbor?" the answer is:
"You are the neighbor. Go along and
try to be obedient by loving others."
Karl Barth writes: "Human being is being with other humans.
Apart from this relationship we become inhuman. We are human by being
together, by seeing, hearing, speaking with, and standing by, one
another as men (and women.)"
How do we stand by one another in the church? How do we go about
being good neighbors? We're off to a good start, but there's more
waiting for us, there's more neighbor-talk, Christ-talk to be had.
Simone Weil, in the book Waiting for God, writes: "The love
of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say to
him, 'What are you going through?'"
"What are you going through?" might be a good starting
point for many teens today. The organization, Religious Tolerance.org,
makes the case that a major "sin of the Christian church in North
America is its contribution to the high suicide rate among lesbian and
gay youth."2 The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
estimated that "as many as 30% of completed youth suicides each
year" occur by gays and lesbians. How might we be a good neighbor
to a gay or lesbian or bisexual youth in our communities? How can we
help build up their self-esteem and lobby to protect them from those
who would deflate it?
How can we be good neighbors to those who have been made to feel
invisible in the church? I recall a very kind woman I met while I was a
chaplain at Mass General. She was suffering from depression and had
been suicidal. She was a woman of deep faith, yet she felt exiled from
the church. She had been at a UCC church where she felt distanced from
because of her struggles with depression. More than one person very
wrongly told her that if she had a stronger faith she would not be
suicidal. Her mental illness had been sorely misunderstood and poorly
judged. How could we be the kind of neighbors Jesus wants us to be in a
situation like this? Can we imagine being there for this woman, could
we drive her to church if there were times when she was trapped in
isolation, could we be the kind of neighbors
she could lean upon in her
darkest times, affirming her courageous life of faith in the face of
struggle?
Or could we imagine ourselves being a good neighbor in this church
to someone like Chris. Chris is a wonderful man who has developmental
disabilities. The church had become a scary place for him, though,
because there were things that happened in the church that he just
didn't understand. One day, I asked Chris why he had left the church.
He said, "Last time [I was at church] Dad passed away, about '95.
I went to church. It was the scariest one. Last time I went to church
was a scary thing, day for me."
Why it was so scary, I asked. "Scared the heck out of me,"
he said. "Saw that casket coming up on the altar. Scared the heck
out of me. My hands started shaking. I didn't expect that." And
that's the last time you went to church, I asked. "Yeah, that's
the last time I went to church." How can those of us who are
temporarily-abled imagine ourselves reaching out in this church to
someone like Chris? If we noticed that Chris had not been to church for
awhile, can we imagine giving him a call, asking him how he's been,
saying we miss you, come back? Can we imagine taking extra time to sit
with him and explain things going on in the church and in Christian
education in ways he could understand? Could we affirm Chris for the
perspective he brings to church?
Mahatma Gandhi writes: "I am part and parcel of the whole, and
I cannot find God apart from the rest of humanity."
The author of the first epistle of John writes:
"Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love
one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God
lives in us, and God's love is perfected in us."
(1 John 4:11-12)
The good news is we can be of healing influence to one another when
we are open, when we affirm, when we draw others in. The good news is,
as we bring Jesus into our hearts, our arms will open wider and wider
still. What's fortunate for us is when we love others -- the neighbor,
the stranger -- God lives in us, God thrives in us, and God's love is
perfected in us in more and more beautiful ways. So on this special
anniversary day, go forth from this church, embodying Christ, being the
arms and hands of Jesus, reaching, embracing with daring and
compassion, being a good neighbor. God will live in you and bring you
abundant blessing. Amen.
1"Neighbor: The Heartbeat of Christ-talk" by
Kosuke Koyama, The Living Pulpit, vol. 11 no.3
2 See www.religioustolerance.org/hom_suic.htm
Copyright © 200 5
Gretchen L. Elmendorf. Used by
permission.
http://www.nhcc.net/sermons/Sermon20050424.htm
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