I was gathering with some pastors recently for prayer. That may sound like a typical preacherly thing to do, but this was a challenge. It was clear to me the whole time that what most of them were praying for and what I was praying for were very different. Even when we set out to pray about the same thing – mental health challenges among High School students was one concern someone brought up before we began praying – our prayers were very different. I prayed for students to find wholeness, community, guidance, acceptance, and the ability to live with joy and hope. Most of them prayed against “the enemy” and one of them prayed with the assumption that the students facing challenges didn’t know Jesus.
I cannot and do not want to try to read the minds of the other pastors in the room. Nor do I have the ability or warrant to judge their approach to spirituality and faith. But it was an odd experience for me to feel as if much of my unspoken prayer while others were praying aloud was something along the lines of, “Oh, no, God, please do not answer that prayer.” Or, at least, “Gracious God, that is not what I ask of you this day.” So, I took another turn to pray, asking God to forgive the church for the ways that we have stigmatized and marginalized people with mental illness and for greater understanding of how we can love them well. It seemed that the tone of the prayers turned toward a more understanding direction after that.
It’s not my purpose here, and not my calling in life, to correct others in how they pray (although I have some overly strong opinions on the matter). I do want to raise the question of what “Christian Unity” is supposed to look like in 2022. This was a group of Christian pastors, one of whom – a friend of mine from other circles – invited me. How does a Christian turn down an invitation to pray? How does a pastor turn down an invitation to pray with other pastors? The unity of the church – per Jesus’ prayer in John 17 “that they may be one” – seems to be one of our highest values. We ought to shine as the “light of the world” by our unity and oneness, yes?
And yet, we also ought to have integrity. Among the other differences I feel when I’m with some other Christian leaders are: I don’t feel that faithful Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, etc. need Jesus or else they are going to hell; I don’t feel that there is a “homosexual agenda” out there that is intent on destroying the gospel; I don’t feel that America is called to be a “Christian nation” – at least not in the way others mean that phrase. In fact, I am rather strongly opposed to these ideas. And here is a hard truth: I feel more at home with Interfaith Leaders who are engaged in pursuing peace and justice than Evangelical Christian leaders who pursue this kind of triumphalistic Christianity.
Too often it feels that the call to “Christian unity” is at odds with the call to seek justice and practice compassion. And, if push ever comes to shove, I hope to err on the side of justice and compassion.
Oh, how I would love to evangelize and to be an evangelical! But those terms have become ruined by their association. If people heard the term “evangelism” and thought something like, “sharing the joy and justice of the gospel in word and deed,” then I would use that word all the time. If someone heard “evangelical” and thought something like, “passionate commitment to spreading the love and justice of Christ,” then I would vote to put it on our sign! But what people hear with “evangelism” is a tactic that promises heaven or threatens hell if people don’t believe what I believe. And “evangelical” just seems to name a partisan voting bloc in the US that has coopted Christian branding. It’s terribly disappointing and it is part of what makes “Christian Unity” such a difficult thing to pursue. I have read people whom I respect promoting the phrase “holy disunity.” I get it, but I’m not ready to use that language, because but I think it could very easily be coopted toward problematic ends. For me, the tension between unity and integrity is not easily solvable, perhaps not solvable at all in some cases.
Of course, this whole presentation of that prayer experience reflects my own perspective. The next step in my reflective journey needs to be to turn the table and wonder how someone, who wants to worship at St. Mark but who disagrees strongly with how we see the world, can be welcomed. Most of you are far better at providing that kind of space than I am, and I continue to learn from you every week. When we find ways to provide space where one can have their integrity – even in disagreements – and yet find unity, then we are the church in the best sense of the term.
Mark of St. Mark
No comments:
Post a Comment