Not a Club
The first Episcopal church I joined, more than 20 years ago, was in a suburb of Kansas City. It started after World War II in a war surplus chapel that was placed in a piece of forested land purchased from a cattle farmer. By the time we became members, it was a lovely greystone facility with an ample social hall and (drum roll!) abundant parking!
By now, the urban sprawl has surrounded the parish church with housing developments aimed at middle class and upper middle class home owners. The parishioners were what one would expect of a church located in such an environment – lots of cookie cutter families, no minorities, no financial problems, and a fairly traditional way of looking at issues.
They were very much like a club, with unwritten but clearly understood admission rules. No one was told they could not be a member, but the non-affluent, the single, the non-conformist, were all kept on the periphery of church life by a wall of silence. On one occasion, a parishioner took it upon himself to scold some young people about what he regarded as their inappropriate behavior during a choir concert. Did we ever see those young people again? Sadly not!
The Body of Christ is not an exclusive club. It does not have the right to exclude those who show up at the door having been guided there, ultimately, by the Holy Spirit. When we came to St. Paul’s – our first experience in a “downtown” church—we were impressed and delighted at the inclusiveness, the diversity, in this part of the Body of Christ.
The truly inclusive church will experience tension. We learned in a Trinity Foundation for Christianity and Culture class a year ago that a faith community must be prepared to accept both progressives and traditionalists. If the traditionalists are excluded, the church will lose its orthodox grounding and sail off like an unguided missile. Without the progressives, the faith community will become a museum. Tension, under the guidance of a patient and loving clergy, can produce a vibrant community, growing in faith and in love for each other.
By now, the urban sprawl has surrounded the parish church with housing developments aimed at middle class and upper middle class home owners. The parishioners were what one would expect of a church located in such an environment – lots of cookie cutter families, no minorities, no financial problems, and a fairly traditional way of looking at issues.
They were very much like a club, with unwritten but clearly understood admission rules. No one was told they could not be a member, but the non-affluent, the single, the non-conformist, were all kept on the periphery of church life by a wall of silence. On one occasion, a parishioner took it upon himself to scold some young people about what he regarded as their inappropriate behavior during a choir concert. Did we ever see those young people again? Sadly not!
The Body of Christ is not an exclusive club. It does not have the right to exclude those who show up at the door having been guided there, ultimately, by the Holy Spirit. When we came to St. Paul’s – our first experience in a “downtown” church—we were impressed and delighted at the inclusiveness, the diversity, in this part of the Body of Christ.
The truly inclusive church will experience tension. We learned in a Trinity Foundation for Christianity and Culture class a year ago that a faith community must be prepared to accept both progressives and traditionalists. If the traditionalists are excluded, the church will lose its orthodox grounding and sail off like an unguided missile. Without the progressives, the faith community will become a museum. Tension, under the guidance of a patient and loving clergy, can produce a vibrant community, growing in faith and in love for each other.