Last week I wrote a piece beginning to talk about the church I see in my dreams. I shared the notion that I believe that mutual love and a commitment to coming together in the service of others formed a better foundation for church community than agreement on theological principles. While stating that I do recognize that theology does play a role in anything like a church that we will have, so this week I’d like to share how I envision a church doing theology.
Participation not Preaching
I’m going to start with the part of this that is possibly hardest on me. You see, I like preaching. I like listening to a good preacher, I like the process of writing a sermon and I like standing up in front of a group of people and delivering that sermon. What’s more I’ve been told far too many times for my own good that I have a gift for it. Even people who don’t like what I have to say have given me compliments on how I said it. So it truly pains my ego to say this, since I have a gift for it and enjoy doing it; but preaching needs to go. This old notion of one man standing at the front behind a pulpit expounding with all the trappings of authority on what is correct needs to be quickly consigned to the history books. While it’s true that this form of communication can build a form of community I don’t think it’s a healthy one and I don’t think it’s either what existed or what was envisioned by Jesus and his apostles.
Instead, I see the communion table being more than just an object hauled out on a periodic basis for a ceremony a significant number of churchgoers are, according to the statistics, likely to avoid if they know it’s coming. I see the communion table being the centre of the church. I am far more comfortable with the idea of every person sitting around as equals, and having a dialogue with one another. Now I know my theory on this is “unique” but I don’t see communion as something rare and shrouded in mystery. On the contrary; there are plenty of elements from the passover feast that Jesus and the disciples were celebrating when he established communion that would have been uncommon. There are elements of the Seder that are eaten only with that meal, and I believe that if Jesus had wanted to establish a ritualised practice that used special elements he would have done that. Instead he took the only two elements of the meal that were common to every meal (and in most cultures of the time) and attached meaning to them. I think that Jesus was saying to those disciples, whenever you eat or drink, remember me. Therefore I think it is perfectly appropriate to share a meal every time we gather. Meals are where life is shared, and I believe that is what Jesus wanted to establish.
Who Can Sit at the Table
This is actually one of the most crucial questions facing church today, and it’s one to which I offer a simple (but not easy) answer. Anyone who comes. That’s right, I believe in a fully open practice of community and a discussion that involves anyone who wants to participate. If a person is willing to be part of a community that loves one another and serves their neighbours then they meet the religious requirements of my faith. How they come to the place of love and service and the way they view God aren’t reasons for division in my view. In fact, much the opposite, I hope and pray for diversity at the table. Adventist and Baptist, Protestant and Catholic, Christian and Muslim, Monotheist and Polytheist and even Atheist – I want all at the table. White and Black, rich and poor, liberal and conservative, straight and gay, male and female – I want all at the table and in an equal seat.
I desire this diverse table because I believe at a fundamental level that we are all one. My blood is no redder than another’s, my experience is no more valid than another’s, my faith is no more sacred than another’s. Now I know this position makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Going outside our boundaries always does. But I think that it’s only through genuine community and shared experience that we truly grow and it’s the only way for us to understand God. You see I value my faith, I never want to lose my faith, I believe that my faith has an incredible picture of God; but I do not believe for an instant that the succession of traditions that has led to my faith is the only path through history that God has revealed himself.
I’ll go into this in more detail in a future post, but in short I find that it paints a very petty picture of a God we call love to believe that there is only one line of chosen people throughout human history and all others are outside his grace. Yes I believe that God has revealed himself to my forefathers and foremothers, but I also believe that he has revealed himself to my Muslim friends’ forefathers and foremothers, to my Buddhist friends’ forefathers and foremothers and to my Pagan friends’ forefathers and foremothers. And I am secure enough in my own faith and identity to allow those friends to share their perspectives. I won’t become a Muslim, a Buddhist or a Pagan; but there is much I can learn from them. In the same way I have no expectation that these friends will convert to my religion; but I hope to be able to share the blessings I’ve received with them.
At the end of days I don’t believe that God is going to be checking membership cards, but judging hearts. And in my faith, the one after whom we are named said that it comes down to a question of love. So since all these people are capable of love all have a right to sit at the table, all have a right to contribute to the dialogue and I hope that all will give me the right to call myself their brother.
I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. – Jesus
Kingdom Dialogues 