I struggle with angry people in the church.
There are different types of anger, of course. I affirm anger that is productive. Anger that leads to addressing systems of injustice. Anger against injustice that can be ….
People who are angry and ready and willing to fight about resolutions or policies of our Church. People who are angry when they intentionally exclude people from God’s church. People who react with anger as they seek to be “inclusive” - even when that inclusivity comes at the cost of excluding those who disagree with them…
For the first time (that I can remember), I was uncomfortable taking communion today. I was torn as I realized how uncomfortable I was. Torn because I was uncomfortable with the situation, but then also uncomfortable that I was so uncomfortable. What kind of witness was I making in my own inability (refusal?) to walk away? What would have been the better, healthier decision?
You see… today, I decided to take part in a communion service with a group of folks who were intentionally welcoming “ALL” people to the table. In theory (and usually in practice!) this is something I stand with and for. I believe our church needs to continue working in this direction of radical hospitality, welcoming “only” those whom Jesus welcomed in his ministry: everyone. That’s it. No categories. No “except,” no, “but what if…” - just everyone. Yes, those lack of exceptions even include and move beyond one’s sexuality. Really, truly, with all of my being (even when its hard) and at the core of my being, I believe: Jesus’ intentionality in uses phrases such as “the least of these” means that he loves and welcomes ALL of US. There is no “them.”
So… Have you ever had the experience of reading something and understanding it one way, then later having someone else read it to be something entirely different? Today, that is how this service felt. The liturgy was beautifully written. The songs were well chosen. And yet somehow, today, something in me (call it the Spirit!?) moved. I was uncomfortable not with the words, but with how they were spoken. I was uncomfortable with the words (that we didn’t sing due to music being played behind us), “they will know we are Christian by our love…”
I was uncomfortable as I asked myself…
Would those around us know we’re Christian? We didn’t exactly invite everyone. That is: you were not invited if you did not agree with our “inclusive” stand.
… and so I ask: is that love?
A huge part of my call to ministry is a commitment to dialogue. How is this conducive to that?
...To be clear: this is not to reflect poorly on the individuals holding the service. It was a nice service. But today, it stirred something within me that made me angry. And that kind of anger has no place at the table. My prayer is for my own healing. For my own journey toward perfection. For my own desire to love better. As I sit here at an Annual Conference with over 2500 other United Methodists, I can’t help but to wonder how many people among us have been excluded… and how can we journey together to be the truly welcoming and “radically hospitable” church we claim to be?
I am grateful for the journey… and that I am not the one who is expected to have all of these answers. I am grateful for the God of love and Grace who carries us, forgives us, and loves us: even when we are not living up to the call on our own lives to do the same.
There are different types of anger, of course. I affirm anger that is productive. Anger that leads to addressing systems of injustice. Anger against injustice that can be ….
People who are angry and ready and willing to fight about resolutions or policies of our Church. People who are angry when they intentionally exclude people from God’s church. People who react with anger as they seek to be “inclusive” - even when that inclusivity comes at the cost of excluding those who disagree with them…
For the first time (that I can remember), I was uncomfortable taking communion today. I was torn as I realized how uncomfortable I was. Torn because I was uncomfortable with the situation, but then also uncomfortable that I was so uncomfortable. What kind of witness was I making in my own inability (refusal?) to walk away? What would have been the better, healthier decision?
You see… today, I decided to take part in a communion service with a group of folks who were intentionally welcoming “ALL” people to the table. In theory (and usually in practice!) this is something I stand with and for. I believe our church needs to continue working in this direction of radical hospitality, welcoming “only” those whom Jesus welcomed in his ministry: everyone. That’s it. No categories. No “except,” no, “but what if…” - just everyone. Yes, those lack of exceptions even include and move beyond one’s sexuality. Really, truly, with all of my being (even when its hard) and at the core of my being, I believe: Jesus’ intentionality in uses phrases such as “the least of these” means that he loves and welcomes ALL of US. There is no “them.”
So… Have you ever had the experience of reading something and understanding it one way, then later having someone else read it to be something entirely different? Today, that is how this service felt. The liturgy was beautifully written. The songs were well chosen. And yet somehow, today, something in me (call it the Spirit!?) moved. I was uncomfortable not with the words, but with how they were spoken. I was uncomfortable with the words (that we didn’t sing due to music being played behind us), “they will know we are Christian by our love…”
I was uncomfortable as I asked myself…
Would those around us know we’re Christian? We didn’t exactly invite everyone. That is: you were not invited if you did not agree with our “inclusive” stand.
… and so I ask: is that love?
A huge part of my call to ministry is a commitment to dialogue. How is this conducive to that?
...To be clear: this is not to reflect poorly on the individuals holding the service. It was a nice service. But today, it stirred something within me that made me angry. And that kind of anger has no place at the table. My prayer is for my own healing. For my own journey toward perfection. For my own desire to love better. As I sit here at an Annual Conference with over 2500 other United Methodists, I can’t help but to wonder how many people among us have been excluded… and how can we journey together to be the truly welcoming and “radically hospitable” church we claim to be?
I am grateful for the journey… and that I am not the one who is expected to have all of these answers. I am grateful for the God of love and Grace who carries us, forgives us, and loves us: even when we are not living up to the call on our own lives to do the same.
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