In many progressive Protestant congregations such as ours nationwide, May 5 was Pluralism Sunday. A time to celebrate the diversity of faith expressions around us and the compassionate God to which they testify.
And yet in order to celebrate spiritual diversity, we must first find our
anchor. We must unashamedly – unabashedly – name and claim and celebrate just who we are. And
that for many of us presents a more challenging task.
A personal experience this past Thursday evening drove this challenge home to me. While helping Drew practice his 3-pointers at Bethesda Elementary School, we ran into the New York Times columnist and PBS political pundit David Brooks, playing one-on-one with his son on the other end of the court. I introduced myself and told him I was the local Presbyterian parson. I got ready to invite Brooks to worship here, 200 yards away – but I did not, in deference to his Jewish faith.
And then I remembered: This Sunday is Pluralism Sunday! Which got me to thinking: What is it that
makes me stop short of inviting others to worship with us – even those of
different faiths – lest I be seen as smug or simply forward? Why am I skittish
of simply offering to someone else the gift of who we particularly are?
Some of my caution certainly has to do with the
widespread public image that Christians are by nature intolerant. And I don’t
want to be seen that way. And so I can be prone to hide my light under a
bushel. For example, I find myself profoundly self-conscious of reading my
theological journal The Christian Century in a public place – say, the Metro –
careful that others may not catch a glimpse of the cover. More than one of you
has told me similar stories. We know how being Christian is seen by many. And we
don’t want to be pegged as intolerant.
And I know I am not alone in my hesitancy to publicly
indicate who I am because like many, I feel a bit guilty. Guilty, due to an awareness
of the long shadow of Christendom – and the omnipotent if not majoritarian
status we Christians in the Protestant tradition enjoyed in this country as
recently as two generations ago, and how we sometimes used that. We don’t want
to be associated with the church isms of the past that may linger in the
present: racism, sexism, heterosexism ... classism. Or, we simply wish to
remain above the spiritual fray, preserving our propriety and maintaining our respectability in a quiet,
unassuming, “spiritual” way.
These concerns are legitimate – and yet, where do they
leave us? Whether we wish to avoid being labeled as evangelically intolerant,
or are painfully aware of our historical shadows, or feel our sense of
integrity might be compromised by being public about our faith in any way, we
mainline Protestant Christians often pull up short and pull back, and in the
process fail to show simple church-invitational hospitality to the David
Brookses of our world.
In our caution – dare I say our timidity – I feel we may have
lost something. Lost a sense of healthy ego – not the puffing up of pride, but the
honesty of ownership – in our particularity as a unique people of God. A Presbyterian particularity based on the
centrality of the grace of God and the inclusive welcome that grace offers all that
begs Christ’s Good News to be shared with all we encounter. That begs us, among other things, to
overtly and intentionally practice the art of biblical hospitality: including inviting and welcoming all to worship with us. Owning up to our particularity as a unique Presbyterian
people of God, within and without
these church doors.
For to be a particular people means to be a unique people – and let’s not
shy away from either word. Unlike words such
as special and even more so superior and the worst of them all – exclusive –
particular and unique are not comparative or superlative terms. They are not
hierarchical terms, they are dialogical terms; they are the place we call home,
and the place pluralism starts. Just as it is for the Islamic faithful, for
example – particular and unique in each of its forms. Just as it is for the Unitarian
Universalist faithful … and so on. We as a Presbyterian church in the Christian
tradition have a particular history, and a unique legacy. Not more particular
than; not more unique than. We are particular to, and unique as.
So let us be particular! Let us be unique! And let us offer that to all the
world about us our focus on the centrality of the grace of God and our vision
as this church as A Place for Healing. Without hubris and yet without apology,
in the broadest sense of that word: without saying “I’m sorry” and without
being defensive.
I believe it was that Protestant Christian of Protestant Christians, the
Puritan literary legend John Bunyan who once wrote – and I lightly paraphrase: “Our faith makes the best gift and the worst
cloak.”
“Our faith makes the worst cloak”: Indeed! Whether we cover ourselves up in our own glory or go into a
defensive crouch. When we treat our faith – our discipleship – more as a
funnel, and less as a flower. More as a means for capturing The Truth, and less
as a means of conveying truth.
Conversely, our faith makes the best
gift. A discipleship that flowers instead of funnels, and a truth that conveys
rather than captures, emphasizes what I believe are two of the most essential
and biblically profound virtues of our Christian faith: humility and
responsibility. For when we are humble and responsible both – humble in our
love for God (“there is a God and we ain’t it”) and responsible in our love for
our sisters and brothers and all of God’s creation – (when we are humble and
responsible both), we cannot – repeat, cannot – engage in promoting, embracing,
or even accepting our Christian faith as more special than or more exceptional
than or more superior to or even more unique to any others. Freeing us to offer
our faith as a gift, our gift, to
God’s world … no apology necessary.
Superior … special … exceptional …
and in some cases unique. I invite each of us to eliminate those words from our
faith vocabulary when it comes to describing God in Jesus the Christ as Jesus
presented and presents himself among us. Eliminate these words, and what a gift
our faith becomes, and what freedom we are given to offer it to others!
