There she was. A shy, tiny 16 year old girl. She wanted to talk to me, I was told. “She doesn’t normally come to church – she just happened to be here – and told her mom she wanted to talk to you.” Her voice was so soft I could barely hear her with kids racing around and adults chatting over coffee. She said, “I really like what you said in there. There is a gay-straight alliance at my school that I’m a part of. My mom didn’t want me to go to it – and she wouldn’t let me have any of my gay friends over….. but when she heard your sermon this morning she told me she’d been wrong. I just wanted to say thank you. I really like what you’re doing.”
We chatted for a few minutes and I encouraged her to keep loving and serving her gay friends. And as the conversation came to a close she tentatively reached out to hug me. Normally, I don’t feel like a giant – but in my high heels and with my motherly figure such as it is these days – I felt huge as I enveloped this wisp of a girl into an embrace. By now, her dark eyeliner and mascara were smudged all over her face, and she whispered one more, “thank you” and disappeared.
These are the moments that stand out as the precious ones. I don’t really care if people “like” my preaching. Why is it that people say “good sermon” anyway …..? Good for what? I don’t want to just be a good public speaker, a good communicator, someone who kept people’s attention, kept them interested – or heaven forbid entertained them …… I long for all of us, in the preaching of the Word, to be cut to the quick – to be taken over by the Living Word – to be changed, to be profoundly reminded of the grace in which we stand, to be renewed in the radical commitment to bridge the gap in every conversation, every relationship, every opportunity to be the very embodiment of the love of Christ in the flesh – to carry out and carry on the work of the incarnation. I long for us to be so secure in the love of the Father – that we willingly enter the insecurity of loving those who are different than we are.
And a tiny, wisp of a girl – who waits on the fringe, not sure if church is really for her ….. this tiny, wisp of a girl got it. How cool is that!!
Showing posts with label incarnation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label incarnation. Show all posts
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Friday, August 8, 2008
More new direction .....
The wonderful thing about a blog is that it provides a forum for the development of thought. Blog posts aren’t published research, they aren’t the final say, they don’t presume to have the complete answer ….. at least mine don’t. Rather, they are a space for reflections, wonderings, exploring, and sometimes testing the waters. They are a space for learning, grace, humility and growth. (And it should be said, that it is equally hoped that those who engage with this blog will keep arrogance and nastiness packed away – especially those who name the name of Jesus).
I recently sat with the chair of the board for New Direction. John is a delightful combination of wisdom and wonder wrapped up together. I always feel safe while pushing the envelope in conversation with him. He’s a philosopher, a theologian, a teacher, an artist (though he would say he mainly hangs out with artists through his work with Imago) …. He thinks deeply, loves freely and is the kind of mentor who allows you the liberty to be fully yourself.
As we talked about the way forward, we began to talk about systems. I have been intrigued and engaged in the conversations about the structures and systems that undergird the gathering of God’s people we call the church.
This blog is an example of some of this conversation. As I ponder the implications of the church functioning as an organic or living system, I can’t help but apply these thoughts to the very unique work God has called New Direction to. What would it look like for New Direction to resist being an institutionalized, self-preserving, ‘closed’ if-you-will system?
We’re not a community per sae – rather we are a facilitator, a catalyst, hopefully a subversive presence within a larger system and community that begets a movement. A movement of thought, language and most importantly relationships that reflect the good news of Jesus Christ in reaching and engaging those affected by diverse sexual identities.
At the center of this movement is Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ at the center of our reality, our humanness, our pain. Jesus Christ liberating us to be our true selves, without hiding, without pretending or posturing. Jesus Christ offering resurrection newness. Jesus Christ source of all hopefulness, source of all life. Jesus Christ in us.
So what would an organic, living system look like for a ministry addressing issues of sexual identity?
I’d been wrestling through writing this post when a friend, Bill Kinnon, connected me with Brad Sargent. Now Brad ironically used to work for Exodus as their resource and publication specialist. Brad is super smart – like I seriously need a Tylenol to read through his blog…. But I was so delighted to discover that Brad is really smart at evaluating systems, paradigms, and models …. And that he has been intimately involved in the missional conversation. And as I read through some of his stuff, it again helped me wrestle with articulating the kind of system that New Direction is seeking to embody. In an email Brad said, "I like your approach: discipleship, welcoming and transforming - not rejecting and condemning, or welcoming and affirming. You've chosen the harder, more paradoxical road, but one that brings more possibilities for true, deep, and lasting impact through the dynamic tensions of listening, learning, and loving ... without compromising truth." Thank you Brad!
Perhaps it is a bit easier to start with describing the kind of closed system that we’re trying to avoid (some might even say emerge from).
We don’t want to be about maintenance – just preserving the status quo (“This is the way we do it. This is the way it has always been done.”) instead of pressing forward with redemptive imagination and creativity.
We don’t want to be in a defensive posture – focused more on preventing opposing views from gaining ground than creating and nurturing a place of renewal and hope.
We don’t want to be a system of control – focused on censorship or keeping everyone ‘in line’ with a rigid legalism rather than risking entrusting people to Christ.
John made the observation that New Direction seeks to engage people not as a “problem to be solved” but with “potential to be empowered”. This is huge isn’t it? People who experience same-gender attraction aren’t a problem to be solved – they are a beloved child of God in whom there is potential to live in relationship with God as a co-heir with Christ. But it does beg the question – how much of Christian ministry approaches a same-gender attracted person as a problem to be solved / fixed / cured….
Empowering potential is much more nebulous. Much more unpredictable. It isn’t about control, or holding onto power – it is about letting go of control and giving power away. It means resolutely refusing to be coercive in someone’s life. It means that sometimes there is a lot of pain and disappointment.
But it also means there is hope. It means there is potential to operate in the freedom and joy of resurrection newness.
And I think it smells a lot like incarnation.
It doesn’t mean that we avoid calling sin, sin. (discerning the right time – we do call for repentance)
It doesn’t mean that we resist being organized or excellent or stewardly (we want to be all those things).
It doesn’t mean we don’t deeply and passionately care about the outcome in a person’s life (we do – particularly expressed through ‘kick butt’ intercessory prayer).
But it does mean we humbly let God sit on the throne – not us.
It means we strive for a place of authenticity – not a veneer of spirituality.
It means we try to model our engagement after Jesus – who gave up control, divine power, and came among us to serve.
And it means we resist the quick, the easy, the consumer mentality – in exchange for the deep, abiding, transforming presence of God.
I recently sat with the chair of the board for New Direction. John is a delightful combination of wisdom and wonder wrapped up together. I always feel safe while pushing the envelope in conversation with him. He’s a philosopher, a theologian, a teacher, an artist (though he would say he mainly hangs out with artists through his work with Imago) …. He thinks deeply, loves freely and is the kind of mentor who allows you the liberty to be fully yourself.
As we talked about the way forward, we began to talk about systems. I have been intrigued and engaged in the conversations about the structures and systems that undergird the gathering of God’s people we call the church.
This blog is an example of some of this conversation. As I ponder the implications of the church functioning as an organic or living system, I can’t help but apply these thoughts to the very unique work God has called New Direction to. What would it look like for New Direction to resist being an institutionalized, self-preserving, ‘closed’ if-you-will system?
We’re not a community per sae – rather we are a facilitator, a catalyst, hopefully a subversive presence within a larger system and community that begets a movement. A movement of thought, language and most importantly relationships that reflect the good news of Jesus Christ in reaching and engaging those affected by diverse sexual identities.
At the center of this movement is Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ at the center of our reality, our humanness, our pain. Jesus Christ liberating us to be our true selves, without hiding, without pretending or posturing. Jesus Christ offering resurrection newness. Jesus Christ source of all hopefulness, source of all life. Jesus Christ in us.
So what would an organic, living system look like for a ministry addressing issues of sexual identity?
I’d been wrestling through writing this post when a friend, Bill Kinnon, connected me with Brad Sargent. Now Brad ironically used to work for Exodus as their resource and publication specialist. Brad is super smart – like I seriously need a Tylenol to read through his blog…. But I was so delighted to discover that Brad is really smart at evaluating systems, paradigms, and models …. And that he has been intimately involved in the missional conversation. And as I read through some of his stuff, it again helped me wrestle with articulating the kind of system that New Direction is seeking to embody. In an email Brad said, "I like your approach: discipleship, welcoming and transforming - not rejecting and condemning, or welcoming and affirming. You've chosen the harder, more paradoxical road, but one that brings more possibilities for true, deep, and lasting impact through the dynamic tensions of listening, learning, and loving ... without compromising truth." Thank you Brad!
Perhaps it is a bit easier to start with describing the kind of closed system that we’re trying to avoid (some might even say emerge from).
We don’t want to be about maintenance – just preserving the status quo (“This is the way we do it. This is the way it has always been done.”) instead of pressing forward with redemptive imagination and creativity.
We don’t want to be in a defensive posture – focused more on preventing opposing views from gaining ground than creating and nurturing a place of renewal and hope.
We don’t want to be a system of control – focused on censorship or keeping everyone ‘in line’ with a rigid legalism rather than risking entrusting people to Christ.
John made the observation that New Direction seeks to engage people not as a “problem to be solved” but with “potential to be empowered”. This is huge isn’t it? People who experience same-gender attraction aren’t a problem to be solved – they are a beloved child of God in whom there is potential to live in relationship with God as a co-heir with Christ. But it does beg the question – how much of Christian ministry approaches a same-gender attracted person as a problem to be solved / fixed / cured….
Empowering potential is much more nebulous. Much more unpredictable. It isn’t about control, or holding onto power – it is about letting go of control and giving power away. It means resolutely refusing to be coercive in someone’s life. It means that sometimes there is a lot of pain and disappointment.
But it also means there is hope. It means there is potential to operate in the freedom and joy of resurrection newness.
And I think it smells a lot like incarnation.
It doesn’t mean that we avoid calling sin, sin. (discerning the right time – we do call for repentance)
It doesn’t mean that we resist being organized or excellent or stewardly (we want to be all those things).
It doesn’t mean we don’t deeply and passionately care about the outcome in a person’s life (we do – particularly expressed through ‘kick butt’ intercessory prayer).
But it does mean we humbly let God sit on the throne – not us.
It means we strive for a place of authenticity – not a veneer of spirituality.
It means we try to model our engagement after Jesus – who gave up control, divine power, and came among us to serve.
And it means we resist the quick, the easy, the consumer mentality – in exchange for the deep, abiding, transforming presence of God.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Volunteering at Pride
For a few years, I’ve been pondering and dreaming about some way to demonstrate the love and care I feel for gay people in connection to Pride events. I’ve winced, as I know many Christians have, at the images of religious people holding placards in protest along the side of parade routes. The most ridiculous photo I saw was of the back of a man’s t-shirt that read, “Real Christians Don’t Sin”….. What????? Every real Christian I know sins – all the time. That’s why we need a Saviour. And what about I John 1:8, “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”? Anyway….needless to say, I have long desired in some small way to try to undo what some, who name the name of Jesus, have done in the past.
This year, things finally seemed to come together in a small, under the radar, anonymous sort of service initiative. In partnership with the Meeting House, one of the churches we connect with, we gathered a small group of people willing to serve as volunteers – and offered ourselves to the Pride Toronto committee. The initial idea was that we would go down and pick up garbage after the parade. Simply show up, be the presence of Jesus, and serve our city. But God seemed to have a different idea. When I initially spoke months ago to the fabulously organized Lisa Duke, Volunteer Coordinator, she thought it would be great if we could help them ‘de-register’ the vendors. Basically, last year a lot of vendors all took off at the same time and left a lot of garbage behind – which cost Pride a lot of money because they had to pay the city more to clean it up. So Lisa thought it would be great if we could go around to the vendors on the last day of events, introduce ourselves, offer our service in helping them de-register and make sure their site was squeaky clean. It seemed, we were being given the opportunity to make connections and be in conversation, as well as helping to clean up. Cool.
So the big day finally arrived. The parade was finishing up and we got our volunteer t-shirts, our photo i.d., our meal and snack tickets, got pointed to the tent where there was a constant supply of pizza and water, and told to have fun. Robert, the food vendor coordinator, was so great and so glad to have us. Allan,one of TMH’s pastors and key coordinator for our involvement, kept saying how as pacifist BIC pastors they would have to “radically love” the vendors into cleaning up their sites – the big love-enforcers :).
We had a fair bit of time to wander around before we had to really get down to the business we were there for ….. and though I’d seen many photos of Pride and watched it on T.V in the past, I had never been ‘in the flesh’ at Pride before. To be honest, I’m a suburb soccer mom and don’t get downtown too much. So I did feel like a fish out of water. Not because I was shocked or offended …. but it was just a very different context than I normally find myself in. That’s good. It was colourful, diverse, loud, and lively.
When Robert began to give us our assignments, a few of us chose to work to help out the vendors who were not selling food. To be honest, I was still a bit fatigued and jetlagged from my recent trip out west, and it seemed this volunteer role included a bit more sitting. As I began to make my way to the various booths to introduce myself and begin giving reminders about ‘tear-down’ and cleanliness, I found myself engaging some very interesting people. There were the service group booths: AIDS education, anti-discrimination groups, anti-poverty groups, District School Board representatives, Youth Helpline, and even a Barack Obama booth. And then there were the vendors selling stuff: sunglasses, t-shirts, hats, leather goods, and sex toys including glass penises. Hmm. That was a little awkward I must say.
I had shared in my church that morning that I was heading down to Pride events to volunteer, serve and simply be the presence of Jesus by being there. The elder who prayed for me said, “That is going to be really hard. I could never do that.” I hadn’t really had a lot of time to think about it – or contemplate that it would be hard. I engage gay people all the time so I expected it to be a pretty normal, every-day experience. So I said to the elder, “That’s why God is sending me – because He’s called me and I want to do it.” But I want to do it so that I can share with other Christ-followers how they, too, can be present through love and service – to begin to undo the enmity and divide. As I shared with the other volunteers, our being there was more about us being changed than trying to change anyone else. Our hearts need to continue to be open to what God is saying to us as we show up and be present.
Having said that, however, I was a bit surprised by the ways it was hard to be present at Pride. I found it hard to listen to God – I think just because of my own sense of distraction by so many different sights and images to take in. I began to feel in my body a heaviness, fatigue and quite quickly developed a tremendous headache. I’ve experienced these sorts of things before – and not to get all oogedy-boogedy on anyone, but I know a sense of spiritual heaviness when I feel it. So while I did find it hard to hear what God might be saying, or to really pray much at all, I do feel that in my physical body I was both carrying the presence of God and encountering the presence of darkness. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to suggest that every person there was filled with spiritual darkness. I saw people who seemed to be at peace and at rest. I saw couples strolling hand-in-hand who seemed very happy and content. I saw people deeply concerned about injustices – not just injustices toward the glbtq community – but global injustices. It was a very diverse kaleidoscope. But I also began to be moved in my physical gut with the kind of compassion that the scriptures describe Jesus feeling when he looked at the crowds and saw that they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd.
As I saw 50-something year old men walking naked, except for a dog-collar, down the street, something in my heart grieved….. What is their legacy in life? Who is their family? Where do they find a sense of purpose? What is their hope? A man, I’m guessing in his 40’s, was riding a tricycle, sucking a pacifier, dressed in a baby bonnet with a sign “big baby on board” …. and it just made me very sad in my spirit. Two transvestites were rather aggressively trying to pick up a very drunk lesbian (who thankfully blew them off after about 10 minutes) – and something in me just ached. Again, please don’t misunderstand me. It was not judgment I felt, nor offense particularly. I tried to be careful to not presuppose too much about these individuals’ lives outside of the few moments I witnessed. But in a deep place I felt a groaning and sadness ~ a sense of emptiness washing over me.
I hadn’t expected all of that to be honest. Though looking back I’m not surprised that God stretched my heart in unexpected ways. True compassion isn’t patronizing. It isn’t about judgment. The dictionary definition of compassion describes it as, “The deep feeling of sharing the suffering of another, together with the inclination to give aid or support or to show mercy.”
The Hebrew people saw compassion as a deep, visceral experience – of being moved to the depths of one’s being – but they also saw it as the place where life is created. Compassion, by its nature, is the recreation of life, the bestowing of grace. They saw compassion as the trembling womb. In fact, the Hebrew verb rakham meaning “have compassion” is closely associated with the noun rekhem which means womb. In Isaiah 49:15 God says, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
I believe the compassion that I felt in my body at Pride has everything to do with the longing of God to be known in the lives of those who are disconnected, lonely and empty – and needing to know the love of the Father.
I’m grateful to have been at Pride this year. Already, I’m looking forward to extending the invitation to more Christ-followers to volunteer with me next year. The Pride folks were fantastic. They were so grateful to have us there. Allan reports that some of the Pride Committee people were so intrigued that members of a church would want to come and volunteer (apparently it is the first time they’ve had volunteers “like us” :)), that some of them said they wanted to check out the Meeting House. Robert already said, “You guys have to come next year to help us get the vendors set up – this year it was a disaster.”
I was really grateful to simply be able to engage with my gay neighbours. I really enjoyed hanging with some of the other volunteers and having the opportunity to hear from some of the service group representatives. Some of the things I saw were hard to see, some things broke my heart, and some brought a smile to my face. I don’t have any grandiose notion that my presence at Pride is going to bridge the gap between the Christian community and the gay community ~ but I do think it is a step in the right direction. It puts me in a place where God can, even in spite of me, continue to work in my heart and to open my eyes to see what He sees.
This year, things finally seemed to come together in a small, under the radar, anonymous sort of service initiative. In partnership with the Meeting House, one of the churches we connect with, we gathered a small group of people willing to serve as volunteers – and offered ourselves to the Pride Toronto committee. The initial idea was that we would go down and pick up garbage after the parade. Simply show up, be the presence of Jesus, and serve our city. But God seemed to have a different idea. When I initially spoke months ago to the fabulously organized Lisa Duke, Volunteer Coordinator, she thought it would be great if we could help them ‘de-register’ the vendors. Basically, last year a lot of vendors all took off at the same time and left a lot of garbage behind – which cost Pride a lot of money because they had to pay the city more to clean it up. So Lisa thought it would be great if we could go around to the vendors on the last day of events, introduce ourselves, offer our service in helping them de-register and make sure their site was squeaky clean. It seemed, we were being given the opportunity to make connections and be in conversation, as well as helping to clean up. Cool.
So the big day finally arrived. The parade was finishing up and we got our volunteer t-shirts, our photo i.d., our meal and snack tickets, got pointed to the tent where there was a constant supply of pizza and water, and told to have fun. Robert, the food vendor coordinator, was so great and so glad to have us. Allan,one of TMH’s pastors and key coordinator for our involvement, kept saying how as pacifist BIC pastors they would have to “radically love” the vendors into cleaning up their sites – the big love-enforcers :).
We had a fair bit of time to wander around before we had to really get down to the business we were there for ….. and though I’d seen many photos of Pride and watched it on T.V in the past, I had never been ‘in the flesh’ at Pride before. To be honest, I’m a suburb soccer mom and don’t get downtown too much. So I did feel like a fish out of water. Not because I was shocked or offended …. but it was just a very different context than I normally find myself in. That’s good. It was colourful, diverse, loud, and lively.
When Robert began to give us our assignments, a few of us chose to work to help out the vendors who were not selling food. To be honest, I was still a bit fatigued and jetlagged from my recent trip out west, and it seemed this volunteer role included a bit more sitting. As I began to make my way to the various booths to introduce myself and begin giving reminders about ‘tear-down’ and cleanliness, I found myself engaging some very interesting people. There were the service group booths: AIDS education, anti-discrimination groups, anti-poverty groups, District School Board representatives, Youth Helpline, and even a Barack Obama booth. And then there were the vendors selling stuff: sunglasses, t-shirts, hats, leather goods, and sex toys including glass penises. Hmm. That was a little awkward I must say.
I had shared in my church that morning that I was heading down to Pride events to volunteer, serve and simply be the presence of Jesus by being there. The elder who prayed for me said, “That is going to be really hard. I could never do that.” I hadn’t really had a lot of time to think about it – or contemplate that it would be hard. I engage gay people all the time so I expected it to be a pretty normal, every-day experience. So I said to the elder, “That’s why God is sending me – because He’s called me and I want to do it.” But I want to do it so that I can share with other Christ-followers how they, too, can be present through love and service – to begin to undo the enmity and divide. As I shared with the other volunteers, our being there was more about us being changed than trying to change anyone else. Our hearts need to continue to be open to what God is saying to us as we show up and be present.
Having said that, however, I was a bit surprised by the ways it was hard to be present at Pride. I found it hard to listen to God – I think just because of my own sense of distraction by so many different sights and images to take in. I began to feel in my body a heaviness, fatigue and quite quickly developed a tremendous headache. I’ve experienced these sorts of things before – and not to get all oogedy-boogedy on anyone, but I know a sense of spiritual heaviness when I feel it. So while I did find it hard to hear what God might be saying, or to really pray much at all, I do feel that in my physical body I was both carrying the presence of God and encountering the presence of darkness. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to suggest that every person there was filled with spiritual darkness. I saw people who seemed to be at peace and at rest. I saw couples strolling hand-in-hand who seemed very happy and content. I saw people deeply concerned about injustices – not just injustices toward the glbtq community – but global injustices. It was a very diverse kaleidoscope. But I also began to be moved in my physical gut with the kind of compassion that the scriptures describe Jesus feeling when he looked at the crowds and saw that they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd.
As I saw 50-something year old men walking naked, except for a dog-collar, down the street, something in my heart grieved….. What is their legacy in life? Who is their family? Where do they find a sense of purpose? What is their hope? A man, I’m guessing in his 40’s, was riding a tricycle, sucking a pacifier, dressed in a baby bonnet with a sign “big baby on board” …. and it just made me very sad in my spirit. Two transvestites were rather aggressively trying to pick up a very drunk lesbian (who thankfully blew them off after about 10 minutes) – and something in me just ached. Again, please don’t misunderstand me. It was not judgment I felt, nor offense particularly. I tried to be careful to not presuppose too much about these individuals’ lives outside of the few moments I witnessed. But in a deep place I felt a groaning and sadness ~ a sense of emptiness washing over me.
I hadn’t expected all of that to be honest. Though looking back I’m not surprised that God stretched my heart in unexpected ways. True compassion isn’t patronizing. It isn’t about judgment. The dictionary definition of compassion describes it as, “The deep feeling of sharing the suffering of another, together with the inclination to give aid or support or to show mercy.”
The Hebrew people saw compassion as a deep, visceral experience – of being moved to the depths of one’s being – but they also saw it as the place where life is created. Compassion, by its nature, is the recreation of life, the bestowing of grace. They saw compassion as the trembling womb. In fact, the Hebrew verb rakham meaning “have compassion” is closely associated with the noun rekhem which means womb. In Isaiah 49:15 God says, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
I believe the compassion that I felt in my body at Pride has everything to do with the longing of God to be known in the lives of those who are disconnected, lonely and empty – and needing to know the love of the Father.
I’m grateful to have been at Pride this year. Already, I’m looking forward to extending the invitation to more Christ-followers to volunteer with me next year. The Pride folks were fantastic. They were so grateful to have us there. Allan reports that some of the Pride Committee people were so intrigued that members of a church would want to come and volunteer (apparently it is the first time they’ve had volunteers “like us” :)), that some of them said they wanted to check out the Meeting House. Robert already said, “You guys have to come next year to help us get the vendors set up – this year it was a disaster.”
I was really grateful to simply be able to engage with my gay neighbours. I really enjoyed hanging with some of the other volunteers and having the opportunity to hear from some of the service group representatives. Some of the things I saw were hard to see, some things broke my heart, and some brought a smile to my face. I don’t have any grandiose notion that my presence at Pride is going to bridge the gap between the Christian community and the gay community ~ but I do think it is a step in the right direction. It puts me in a place where God can, even in spite of me, continue to work in my heart and to open my eyes to see what He sees.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
How NOT to be a good neighbour....
Ok.... so we got this email today through one of our other websites:
"I am a concerned nieghbor of a lesbian couple and wish to send them some info on how to become a christian and distance themselves from there unGodly life style they are currently leading. They are very unhappy people and we believe as a nieghborhood it is because of the homosexuality and no life with Christ. I dont want to push this on them but I would like you to send them some info about how you could help them."
Helpful tips for this concerned neighbour:
1. Find ways to connect with and serve your neighbours - mow their grass, bring them cookies, invite them for dinner
2. Be a listening ear - resist telling them what you think, instead, be a listening presence - you might be surprised by what you hear
3. Pray
In case anyone wonders why we think it is important to stimulate humble, discerning, incarnational conversations with Christians on how to befriend our gay neighbours .... this email is a pretty good indication of the need.
"I am a concerned nieghbor of a lesbian couple and wish to send them some info on how to become a christian and distance themselves from there unGodly life style they are currently leading. They are very unhappy people and we believe as a nieghborhood it is because of the homosexuality and no life with Christ. I dont want to push this on them but I would like you to send them some info about how you could help them."
Helpful tips for this concerned neighbour:
1. Find ways to connect with and serve your neighbours - mow their grass, bring them cookies, invite them for dinner
2. Be a listening ear - resist telling them what you think, instead, be a listening presence - you might be surprised by what you hear
3. Pray
In case anyone wonders why we think it is important to stimulate humble, discerning, incarnational conversations with Christians on how to befriend our gay neighbours .... this email is a pretty good indication of the need.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Freedom in Friendships
I was hanging out with some artists and thinkers and risk-takers the other night. And as it often happens when people learn that I serve through New Direction, folks began to share with me about their gay friends.
Seems these days that more often than not, Christ-followers have gay friends. This is a good thing. This is a great thing. What is not so great is that we Christians seem to struggle so much with how to navigate these friendships.
The conversations the other night were alive and vibrant. I heard people speak of how their gay friends were so different from one another .... (seems to punch holes in the old stand-by term, "gay lifestyle"). They shared about straining to listen to the whisper of the Spirit as they sipped Starbucks with their friends. They spoke of a deep, deep desire for these friends, whom they have come to love, to know God ~ and of their struggle to nurture and facilitate a God-connection rather than impede that. And they spoke of emerging into a kind of robust love that rests in God while feeling free to enjoy and delight in their gay friends - just as they are.
The conversations seemed to sing with the life-giving presence of Jesus.
"Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we're a free people - free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free!" Eph. 1:7
Oh Lord ~ you exist in relationship and you have formed us for relationship. Pour your relational delight into our friendships. Might our times of connection sing with the Life of Jesus. Help us to rest in the freedom of trusting you with our loved ones. Show up. Be Glorified. Amen.
-WG
Seems these days that more often than not, Christ-followers have gay friends. This is a good thing. This is a great thing. What is not so great is that we Christians seem to struggle so much with how to navigate these friendships.
The conversations the other night were alive and vibrant. I heard people speak of how their gay friends were so different from one another .... (seems to punch holes in the old stand-by term, "gay lifestyle"). They shared about straining to listen to the whisper of the Spirit as they sipped Starbucks with their friends. They spoke of a deep, deep desire for these friends, whom they have come to love, to know God ~ and of their struggle to nurture and facilitate a God-connection rather than impede that. And they spoke of emerging into a kind of robust love that rests in God while feeling free to enjoy and delight in their gay friends - just as they are.
The conversations seemed to sing with the life-giving presence of Jesus.
"Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we're a free people - free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free!" Eph. 1:7
Oh Lord ~ you exist in relationship and you have formed us for relationship. Pour your relational delight into our friendships. Might our times of connection sing with the Life of Jesus. Help us to rest in the freedom of trusting you with our loved ones. Show up. Be Glorified. Amen.
-WG
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