OK, sometimes the Bible can be a little kinky. I am really enjoying this week’s passage from Galatians, chapter 5, “For you were called to freedom, sisters and brothers; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.
Who has ever been a part of a community that bites and devours their members? That is some pretty strong language. Yet when I reflect on conversations I have had with people involved with Church in the Cliff I think that many of us carry bite marks from previous communities, even (maybe especially?) from other communities of faith. These old wounds are made worse by the fact that the parts of ourselves we presented upon joining said groups were often our most tender bits. For it is those tender parts of our bodies and souls which, like the canary in the mine, first alert us to our need for fresh air and new life.
Let me offer an example. I spent a couple of years in Nicaragua in my mid twenties, living on the side of a volcano. Most of my days were spent with women and children from the community, Mansico, where I lived. We did a lot of talking, sharing ideas, and slowly organized some grassroots banking co-operatives.
In Nicaragua they have a saying, “Hay mas tiempo que vida” or “there is more time than life.” People spend a lot of time waiting for stuff: for the bus to come chugging up the dusty road, for an appointment at the health clinic, for the teachers to make it up the rocky trail to start class. I did my share of waiting too: for community meetings to start, for a local leader to stand up and speak, for the carrots in my parched garden to grow.
In the midst of all this waiting, God started to haunt me. In the potent silence of the in-between times God was busy nudging me into reconsidering my next steps. Ultimately after a couple of years of ignoring Divine promptings I gave up. I came to see that the career I was planning in law and non-profit management was about to take a big turn. And that the kind of justice-work that most inspired and interested me was in fact dependent on my participation in spiritual community. I came to trust that whatever I could contribute to and learn from this hurting world would be richer and more impactful if I could do it as part of a group of people who were hungry for the same things: meaning, traction, growth, even love. In short, God helped me recognize that I was not done with the church as I thought I might be.
So, with all this hard fought spiritual wisdom I applied to Divinity schools. That is where Part I of the story ends and another story begins. Let us just say that the small and growing edges of my soul watered in the silence of Nicaragua had a hard time finding a home in the competitive world of graduate school. And some very yucky internships again made me doubt the beauty and integrity of church life. So, like many among us, I am familiar with what happens when you present your most vulnerable, growing edges to a community and someone takes a big chomp out of them and it really hurts.
Which is why Paul reminds us in this letter to folks in Galatia that the stakes are high. Church is to be the wading pool for an even bigger experience of the Divine, not a place that makes us retreat from whatever individual truths we have gleaned through reflection and hard life. We are scripturally mandated to be each other’s love slaves because we need an experience of God manifest through flesh and blood if we are to continue to live deeper into the vulnerability modeled by Jesus. It is scary to trust our inner canaries and the still small voice of God.
This summer we are creating space to listen to each other’s stories about church. About what we have learned and about where we hope we are headed. Join us tonight and Sunday as Jen and Alan and others with Bible Church/Church of Christ experience give voice to what they love, what they choose to leave behind, and what they draw from their traditions which helps them articulate the church they want us to be.
Joy and All Good Things,
PS Paul is making a surprise dish sponsored by Jen tonight. Drinks and dessert welcome. 108 S. Rosemont Ave 75208. 6:30pm