Risks of Community

About a week and a half-ago our community learned that a painting had been stolen from Ed's No Name Bar.  Ed Hoffman, the bar owner, first posted the news on the bar's Facebook page and then slowly it was shared wider as the local news outlets picked it up.

Now, I try to go to Ed's every Thursday night that my schedule allows because I have found that the people there are genuine, real, and the music is great.  The atmosphere is one that I enjoy because of Ed's love and support of the arts.  So it isn't a surprise that to have a painting stolen would be heart-breaking and very saddening to Ed and the community that enjoys the bar.

One particular paragraph that Ed wrote has stuck in my mind and I have been thinking about it ever since:

I have been open and offering free gallery space to regional artists for 3 years now and never has any one damaged or stolen a painting or work of art. I have always felt comfortable hanging my own work here. I volunteer and support local art in every way that time allows. I let my guard down and who ever did this made a fool of me. Personally, I am embarrassed that this happened, and have not gotten much sleep as my mind races about who, on a slowish night when I was familiar with most if not all of the people in the pub, would do such a thing.

Ed writing communicates the pain and anguish he felt (feels) over this loss, not only for him but the loss for the artist.  I have been thinking about that emotion for over a week and trying to understand it within the context of the community I am called to serve, the faith community.

What caught my attention the most was the fact that on the night when it disappeared Ed "was familiar with most if not all of the people in the pub."  It seems to me that this fact is what makes the situation hurt even more.  It doesn't seem that it is just a "random" person, but rather someone who knows Ed and therefore would know why Ed's is the way it is with the infusion of art and music in the atmosphere.  The hurt is magnified because it is possibly someone known by Ed, but also because it dealt with damaging the very source of passion for Ed.

I admire the way Ed reacted to the situation: he shared the hurt caused with the larger Winona community and asked for help, but just as importantly he didn't let this instance of violation stop him from continuing to share art at the pub.  That can be a hard thing to do, when we get hurt as people the usual reaction is to want to put up walls of protection to ensure it never happens again.  It would be understandable if Ed had decided to stop sharing art because of this instance, but I admire him for not doing that and I think that is something that people within faith communities could learn from.

Those who enter into a faith community, or any community for that matter, open themselves up to risk.  Any relationship brings with it inherent risks and loss of control because we cannot control another person's decisions and that can bring hurt.  In faith communities we open up our lives and everything that goes with it to other people.  We become vulnerable by sharing our joys, our hurts, our passions, etc. because we believe that God has called us to be unified.

But guess what: people are broken and that means that faith communities are no exception to people getting hurt.  As someone who has been called to serve a faith community, this means that I open myself up to hurt also.  If people disagree with me that sometimes means that people will attack me or badmouth me within the community.  The fact is this happens whether you are a leader or just a regular member of the faith community and when that happens it hurts and people react to that hurt differently.  Some people react by doing the same thing to the other person.  Some people react by leaving the community to ensure they never get hurt like that again.  Still, some people stay in the community confront the hurt by bringing it into the open and grow from the experience.

It is this third reaction that I believe we are called to live into as members of a faith community.  The first reaction, to get revenge, does nothing more than multiply the pain.  The second reaction protects the person who is hurt, but in some ways I think it helps neither the individual hurt nor the community.  The individual never confronts the hurt and therefore will enter any new situation without healing and with their guards up to protect them.  The community loses out because they no longer are able to experience the gifts that the hurt individual brings to the community.  The third reaction deals with the hurt, confronts the wrong that was done and moves towards healing.  The individual is able to heal and grow, the community continues to experience the gifts the hurt individual brings to the community, and hopefully the one who caused the hurt realizes their own brokenness and is able to make amends and change so that they don't hurt others in the same way.

As I reflected I couldn't help but believe that Ed responded the way that I believe members of our faith communities should when we are hurt also.  We don't stop being who we are and sharing those things that make us who we are, but instead we confront the wrong and work towards healing and through that trust that the entire community is able to grow.

Brokenness

I am just going to lay this out there:  one of the things that I struggle with as a pastor is brokenness.  I struggle with the Church's brokenness.  I struggle with the local church's brokenness.  I struggle with congregant's brokenness.  I struggle with my own brokenness.

Brokenness means pain.  Someone is always going to experience pain in the brokenness, either it is the person who is broken or another person because of that brokenness.  We can't escape the brokenness we can only surrender either to the brokenness or to Christ.

Let me explain.  Often I think we surrender to the brokenness.  It is easier.  We can avoid it on our own terms or we can try to control it on our own terms.  In both situations, the brokenness wins.  There is another way and that is surrendering the brokenness to Christ.  Opening oneself up to the guidance of another is tough, it means facing our own brokenness and realizing we can't do it on our own.

I had a wonderful and painful conversation with someone recently who posed the inquiry on whether things were being done out of fear rather than faithfulness.  It really got me thinking about how often we surrender to brokenness because of fear from the individual level all the way up to the institutional level.

I speak of this from a personal level.  My own brokenness around issues with my father dominated my life for 25 years.  I surrendered to the brokenness rather than surrendering to Christ and trusting that my faithful response would lead me towards a better way of living.  I wanted things on my terms and I wanted to heal myself.  Of course that reaction was nothing more than surrendering to my own brokenness and how it had shaped me to want to have control over a situation in response to my inability to have control over what my father chose to do.  It wasn't until Christ broke through via the guidance of a supervisor at my field placement that I began to surrender to Christ.  Once I surrendered and said okay I am going to do something Christ is leading me to do even though I don't want to do it internally, then things began to be healed.  What if I hadn't responded faithfully (doing something I didn't internally want to do)?  How would my brokenness in that situation continue to control me?

These are questions I ask of myself, but I also wonder how often our choices as communities and as institutions are done out of fear rather than out of faithfulness.

Wrestling Thoughts: Public vs. Private

Over the past week I have really been mulling over a post on the micro-church written by Andrew Conard. Some of the comments really got me thinking about public life vs. private life. You can read the post and comments here.

Now I think there is some genuine wrestling with one of the commenters on the functionality of the "home" within the life of a faith community. The commenter states:

I am wondering about possible shifts in the concept of “home” from other eras when this worked in the past, like the early church or even early Methodism. Seems like we have a great many more public places to gather; resturants, coffee shops, movie theatres, etc than might have been available in the past. “Home” seemes even more private, intimate, vulnerable to me becuase of this.

I assume your concept is that it is easier to invite someone to one’s home than elsewhere, but isn’t it possible that it is also harder?

I think these are important questions to ask, but it really got me thinking about some thoughts I have had over the past few months. Why is there such an emphasis on privacy? There really seems to be the strong demarcation between public and private and I am wondering if our Christian Identity calls us to challenge those sentiments.

I constantly am reminded as a young pastor that I need to make sure that I take time for myself and my family. I know this stems from pastors in the past spending all their time at work or allowing their work to dictate their life to the point that it led to exhaustion and split families. However, maybe I am just wired different. I believe that our lives as disciples call us to journey with our brothers and sisters in Christ and to grow together, and I am sorry but isn't the best way to get to know someone in their home? Isn't there something about having someone over for a meal and having discussion? Isn't there something about them seeing the photos you have on the wall and asking questions about the people causing you to share a bit more about who you are? Have we lost this?

Why is the home avoided in so many instances within the life of the church? We gather with these same people on Sundays and yet for most members of the church they might not even be able to tell you where most of the people live, let alone their story? Pastors have an interesting position in that they can do home visits, etc. and get to know those within the community better, but shouldn't this be what we are all doing? How can anyone feel comfortable sharing their struggles if no one truly knows who they are? Isn't it in these interactions in the home where intimacy between individuals is fused?

Public life seems to have allowed us to be totally anonymous while still feeling connected. We do have so many public places, but that makes it to easy for us to "feel" connected to people without really connecting with them. When I invite someone to my home that means that I care enough about them that I am willing to open up a space that our culture has made almost exclusively private. People can see the photos (even those embarrassing photos that show the fashions of times gone by), people use the bathroom (and you risk them seeing that place where you trust they will not snoop--the medicine cabinet--or in our case the "drawers"), you allow them to see how you live, what you value. People enter into your life. Not only that but when you invite someone into your home, you don't just welcome them and then invite them to take a seat on the couch while you make the meal, serve it, and then speak only to your family (wouldn't that be awkward?....oh wait that is probably what it feels like for many to come into our churches...oh snap). No, you invite them in, you talk to them, you ask them questions, you allow them to enter into your life by getting to know you intimately.

Perhaps that is why I have structured part of my campus ministry the way I have. Each week (beginning in October after I get back from paternity leave....whenever this 2nd son of ours arrives) we will gather at my house to have a meal and to celebrate the Eucharist around the table. People will get to know me and my family and I will get to know them as we journey together to understand God and how our lives interact with our faith. This intimate discussion just couldn't happen in a public setting because it is just too easy for us to remain anonymous.

This means that some of my "family" or "private" time is being invaded by my job, but you know what....my wife and I would have it no other way. We, as disciples, are fed by connecting with and learning from other disciples. These students are part of our family and we know of no other way to know them intimately than to invite them into our home where they can see all of our warts and blemishes but also really know who we are.

Perhaps we do really need to look more deeply at each faith community's relationship to public and private life. If most of our members have never been to other member's homes we might have to ask ourselves what type of community we are?

Just thoughts I continue to wrestle with.