Vunerability and Radical Welcome

Another colleague of mine (as one of my seminary professors used to say "I am not original.") recently highlighted the following talk by Dr. Brene Brown discussing the necessity for vulnerability in our lives. Take a look:



This dovetails with the talk about Radical Welcome from The Rev. Stephanie Spellers at our clergy conference a couple of weeks ago. At that conference, she invited us to share with one other person two experiences: an experience of being unwelcome and an experience of being welcome. In the midst of that, I realized that my entire ministry has been about creating and nurturing community--a place where people feel welcome and connected. A place, frankly, where people can be free to be vulnerable and admit their imperfections.

Frankly, and highly ironically, the church often makes this difficult. One would think that a faith tradition that is founded on the paradox of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ would be the most welcoming to imperfect, shameful, vulnerable people. Instead, we've put ourselves out there as perfect people who have it together and just need a little touch-up or polish on Sunday mornings. Our perhaps unintentional message is that you are welcome to come to church if you are certain of what you believe, your life is nearly perfect, and you can navigate your way around a church service pretty easily.

I seriously doubt anyone qualifies to come to church under those restrictions.

Few people are certain of what they believe, and the ones that are most certain are often the most resistant to growing in their faith and understanding. Few people's lives qualify as anything close to perfect, especially in the world we live in today. Few people who have not grown up in the church have any idea what to do and when to do it.

So where does that leave me as a pastor and priest and St. Edward's as a congregation? It means that we need to be intentional about creating a place where anyone, doubter, seeker, or curious visitor, can explore the Christian faith. We need to be explicit that our church is a  place where you don't need to be perfect to walk in the door. We need to be helpful to those people who enter our doors for the first time so that they can be participants and not just spectators in our services. Finally, we need to proclaim far and wide that we're doing this, we're going to repeatedly fail at it, but we're going to keep trying.

Gloom or Gospel?

As I troll the various blogs (including the always informative Fr. Jake) whose authors opine about the state of the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, and as I keep up with the various news stories (via the episCope blog), I am hardly encouraged. Yet, I find myself wondering if the current state of dis-ease and anxiety is simply a symptom of a larger problem: We have forgotten the good news! Unlike more evangelical churches, a sizable majority of the Episcopal Church does not subscribe to the idea that folks that do not declare faith in Christ are "lost", much less destined for hell. Because of this, we do not have the evangelistic fervor of people on a divine rescue mission. Rather, we seem often to be more like a server at a buffet or, at most, a street vendor hawking our wares. Our favorite quote is the one widely attributed to St. Francis: "Preach the Gospel at all times and, if necessary, use words." The caveat to this is that, at least in the Episcopalians I've met, the necessity for using words is rare!

My point in this is that I have for a long time felt that the greatest threat to the health and wellbeing of the Episcopal Church is not schism or even heresy, but silence. Most people I know are not even able to begin to articulate their own faith story, have little concept of God's ongoing work in their lives, and often come to church "because that's what you do on Sunday morning!" Even if they do have a healthy, vibrant faith and story, they are reluctant to share it, as if doing so would somehow be rude, gauche, or intrusive.

The question I have posed, and which I have never really received a satisfactory answer, is "What is our motivation for evangelism?" If we do not see ourselves on a divine rescue mission, if the concept of Jesus as Savior, much less Lord, is not something with which we are entirely comfortable, then what is the driving force behind Episcopal evangelism? Regardless of what happens in the Episcopal Church or the Anglican Communion, if we cannot answer that question with something compelling, then we risk sliding into moving from being the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society (the legal name of the Episcopal Church) to the Society for the Preservation of Nice Buildings.