Church Isn't All About God

A few nights ago, unable to sleep, I started watching one of those obscure series on Netflix. This one was a dual language thriller, Welsh, and English, that has become fashionable in the UK production community. Being a typical mystery/thriller, the plot includes a disappearance and ultimate murder. There is, of course, a grieving spouse who is having trouble coping and finds her way into an Anglican church. The pastor noticing her in the first pew, approaches her to see if he can help. Somewhat embarrassed, she declares she is sorry to be in his church. She doesn't really believe in God, she claims, but somehow ends up sitting in a building dedicated to a supreme being. Without missing a beat, the Rector states unequivocally that it’s okay that church isn't all about God!

I was both amused and reassured by this exchange. He was right, of course, the church isn't all about God. It is about community, solace, and, hopefully, free of judgment. He reassured the grieving widow that a church is a place to find a safe and comforting space. One did not need to profess that they believed in anything. In his world, all were welcome to enter the building designed to grant peace. It reminded me of another instance where an Episcopal priest at New York's St. Bartholomew's Church issued a statement that appeared heretical. In a regular service before communion, he said, "all were welcome." Later I asked one of the priests involved in St. Barts if he really meant everyone. Usually, the offer is to all baptized Christians. The associated assured me be meant anyone, baptized or not. It seemed that the pastor figured any non-baptized person who was so moved to take communion was worthy, and he would figure it out later. I loved this notion. The church was open to all, and using religious rituals wasn't the point. Anyone so moved to come to Christ through the sacraments was welcome, regardless of a lack of previous baptisms.

The church is not obedient to ritual. It is not all about God. It is about welcoming all and serving all of God's children. My older son (see my Son Needs A Chaplin) understood this very young. He was at a summer camp at the same St. Bartholomew's Church when he decided to share his camp breakfast with a homeless man sitting outside on the sidewalk in front of the church. At first, the counselor admonished him for taking his plate out to the man. But my son said with great certainty, the kind that comes from an eight-year-old, that if we believe in Jesus, we must feed the hungry. Of course, there was no good answer other than to let my son take the plate to the man.

If we truly believe in the teachings of Christ. If, as Christians, we love our neighbor as ourselves and seek to spread the faith, the church can't be all about God. It must be about community. It must be about welcoming all. We must be open to serving everyone within the walls of the building. This must include the devout to the non-believer who needs help. Like the Pastor of St. Bart's, if someone is moved to enter a church, we must embrace that person and figure it out later.

I hope this is the current thought of the Episcopal Church. Indeed, Bishop Curry has consistently led us in the Gospel of love. Love is unconditional and doesn't judge. We are taught that from a very young age, so why would we deny access to anyone seeking something, even if they aren't sure, there is a God? On a more positive note, we know that if we truly live the Gospel, we are doing God's work by building an utterly open-door community.

But I have reservations about how well we exercise this openness. The church says all are welcome, and most parishes support many community-based "good works." We help serve meals at shelters and pack care packages for needy people. Some go on missions to help struggling communities, and others provide tutoring to underserved kids. Still, it is important to examine why we do these things and do we really follow Christ in our service. I often wonder if we serve because we believe all people are children of God and deserve our love or do we help to make us look and feel better.

I grew up in a very WASPY family. We did all the right things because to whom much is given, much is expected. But I am not sure we did it because we wanted to. I suspect mainly for earlier generations; service was done to be seen doing it. Significant charitable contributions were expected because your name would be on a list of donors. If it wasn't, you would be judged. This charity and openness were part of being upper-class, not because it is part of being a Christian. All too often, that seemed the rule and not the exception.

How many parish dinners for people in need remained segregated? How many parish members came and sat with the outsiders? Did the parishioners sit together, and the homeless sit alone? I question not judging but trying to understand how we can make a church, not just about God and liturgy. How do we make service not just a socially required obligation but a true calling? How do we learn to invite the poor into our community and join with them, speaking to all as friends?

Of course, we know that church is all about God; otherwise, why would we build sanctuaries? Those "practicing" Episcopalians believe they find aspects of God in everything they do, including our Church buildings. However, when a church locks a door for security reasons or denies someone of a different denomination communion, are we making church less about God and more about a closed community? If so, then that priest in the film I watched is right in spirit but not in actuality.

In the end, faith must be spread, and charity must be an actual exchange between people. In response to "keep the faith, " my mother-in-law, a devout Catholic, would declare, “no, spread the faith.” Her answer always startled her priest, but she was right. Church can't be all about God in a performance sense. It can not be just services and pro forma charity. The church must be something bigger and more significant so that, ironically, it can indeed be all about God. It must communally welcome all. Outreach must serve food to the homeless, sit with them, and share the meal.