In Praise of the Faith Community

I love churches. Whenever I am traveling through a new town, my eye scans the horizon for steeples. Whenever a wedding, funeral or meeting calls me to some other church, I almost always arrive early enough to walk around and get a feel for the place, its people and mission. I pick up newsletters. I read bulletin boards and posted meeting minutes. I sit in sanctuaries and simply absorb the residual Spirit and atmosphere. The same holds true for the monasteries, synagogues, temples, mosques and shrines I have visited. I am drawn to these places where profound and profane meet... these formal touch points between Creator and creation. Something sacred has been lovingly built in these places. With each new day and each heartfelt prayer, more faith, more holiness is added.

Even now, as I sit in my office typing out this reflection, I can hear the cars and trucks zooming by on Routes 5 & 20, just 100 yards away. I wonder where people are going. I know some take comfort at the sight of our building. Perhaps some would stop in to explore and meditate if they only had time. Someday... Someday...

Practical concerns like weather and potential vandals require us to close and lock down at times. Still, in summer, I like to throw open the doors to the Spirit wind and wandering travelers. I've met a lot of interesting people this way, as the sight of our huge oak doors thrown open to the world tends to attract the curious, the troubled, the seeking and the holy. I remember one day when I found myself playing host to three very-excited-if-slightly-lost black lab puppies that suddenly burst into my office. They seemed to appreciate holiness, but, alas, their little puppy brains (hardwired to their little puppy bladders) could only handle so much loving acceptance.

I've also hosted itinerant evangelists, addicts, genealogy researchers, fresh starters, con artists, a few birds and one very persistent bat, all thanks to this open door policy.

I remember one day about ten years ago when these two women showed up. One appeared to be in her late 30s, the other was in her 50s, easy, and seemed to be having a difficult time with arthritis. They were hitching and camping their way from the Midwest to Vermont. A trucker had dropped them off in Avon at the end of his run. They'd walked as far as our doors when they ran out of steam. We gave them a hot shower and a warm meal on that early autumn evening. They seemed a bit leery of a pastor and his family, and didn't share much. Family in Vermont? Nope. Friends? Nope. Jobs? Nope. It dawned on me that these two were most likely traveling together to a location that had just legalized gay marriage. Not knowing where I stood on the issue, they probably chose not to share too much. They simply wanted to make it to Burlington unmolested and uncontested. I felt it best to respect their privacy and not force them to answer to my conjecture. It wasn't my business.

They had a tent and sleeping bags. The 50ish lady said she preferred sleeping outside, but I also saw her wince when she rose from her chair.

A local gentleman farmer granted permission for them to camp in the short grass up behind his pond, and, after dinner, I helped them lug their packs and set camp. It was about midnight that the thunder, lightning, wind and torrential rains hit. I drove and ran to their camp, where their tent had collapsed and they were drenched. They agreed to spend the rest of the night at the parsonage.

In the morning it became obvious that the older of the two ladies was unable to continue hitch-hiking and camping. She turned to her companion with tears in her eyes and said "I just can't do it." I jumped online, found a sister UCC church in Burlington (checking quietly to make sure it was Open and Affirming), called with advance word of these two sojourners, and then we bought them a couple of bus tickets to carry them the rest of the way in padded, heated comfort. At the bus station we asked them only to send word that they were safe and well, handed over a couple of box lunches, quickly, quietly prayed a blessing over them and sent them on their way.

We did receive a simple, brief thank you note, but no other word ever came.

Jesus once said that merely giving a cup of cold water to a child was a holy task. He also said:

"if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on
the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."


We'll never be perfect. Not even close, in my case. But it seems to me the most efficient way to eliminate an enemy is to love them into friendship. Who is the enemy of Christ, anyway? Someone who wants to pursue a quiet life of love and laughter? One who would insist on separation, castigation and discord? Any way you think on the issue, Jesus is crystal clear in his directives. Greet all. Love all. Help all on their way.

Yesterday our faith community, West Bloomfield Congregational Church UCC, voted overwhelmingly - UNANIMOUSLY - to throw open our doors to the wandering stranger.We are now officially an Open and Affirming church, though most would say we've always been so, we just hadn't made it formally known. This was not a vote to "love the sinner, hate the sin," but simply, firmly a vote to LOVE.

I pray that you are part of a faith community that does likewise, or are seeking the same. If you are a part of this faith community and have absented yourself because you disagree with the rest of us or the UCC on this or some other issue, I pray that you will return to love and be loved, to be affirmed, and to be a part of this incredible, wide-open, life- and love-affirming mission to which Christ has assigned us all.

A Whereness of God

But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built! – 1 Kings 8:27

So Solomon begins his dedication of the massive temple he built in Jerusalem, the first of its kind for a God that had first been encountered by humanity somewhere around the Tigris and Euphrates rivers (we think), and who had led men, women and children to wander across borders of far-flung nations, in and out of slavery, self-rule and exile for millennia.
This is the God who compelled Abram to pull up stakes in Ur and travel all the way to Canaan. Who led Joseph and his brothers down into Egypt…Moses and his followers back out. This was a God of nomadic herdsman, itinerant workers, strangers in strange lands and vagabonds. Now Solomon would push a pin into the infinite map of the universe and say “this is where we will meet to encounter God.”
Solomon, in his wisdom, immediately recognizes the irony of the moment: How could the God who created the heavens and the earth, whom our ancestors met everywhere they turned, be contained in this one spot? Nonsense! Solomon’s Temple was not built to narrow the scope of God, but to focus the vision of God’s people.
A church is not built to corral God, but to corral us: God’s wandering, ADHD followers. If we simply stated that we would meet Sunday morning where we most encounter God, some of us would be up in the hills or down by the lake, others in an inner-city soup kitchen, a maternity ward or a Habitat for Humanity construction site. A couple of us would meet at the church, and a few of us wouldn’t even leave our homes.
We are followers of a God who supplies to us no name beyond Yahweh -- I Am. Christ’s given name, Jehoshua, literally means Through God I am Free. Christ sends to us the Spirit whose name means wind (ruah).
But sometimes for us finite, mortal beings, AWARENESS of God requires A WHERENESS of God; a specific place we set apart as communally holy, where we can come together, share our experiences and turn to our God as one to offer praise and worship. Building and maintaining a church are profound acts of worship: a reaching out for God, a humbling of our human intentions. Attending a church is an expression of love to God, an act of faith and sacrifice. From the moment you turn to begin your trip to a house of worship, you have begun a holy pilgrimage, not because you are moving from where God isn’t to where God is, but because you have set your mind and the coming hour on Christ, and are journeying with others to turn together to our God who is everywhere. It is the beginning of our offering before we put anything in the collection plate!
May your church always provide A WHERENESS of God. And, wherever you go outside the church, may you recognize your brother, Christ, in the freedom of will you enjoy, and take in the Holy Spirit in the very air you breath.