"All" Inclusive???

So, as usual, Sundays leave me with a lot to think about.

Last week it was All Saint's Day. And as has been the pattern for the last few years at our church there was also an infant baptism. It is always a challenge for me to feel a part of the church on these days that emphasize family. Generally central to those feelings are my own sorrow at not having a nuclear family of my own... since this generally seems to be the family that is being talked about at church. Infant baptisms raise grief for all sorts of people, including those of us who are facing the reality of never giving birth for a variety of reasons. But tie that to All Saint's Day... and some feel caught in a crunch between life and death. I celebrate being a part of the communion of saints. I try to remember that this day is about my being welcomed into that communion, a remembrance of my own baptism and coming to faith. I rejoice that many of my family members are part of the communion of saints. Yet, I also know that as someone not born into the faith, I will always mourn those who are not part of the body, those who do not believe, could not believe, never had a chance to believe.

Today, during the service, the word "all" was used many times. It is meant to be inclusive. It is meant to indicate that we "all" share similar experiences in life, that we are all a part of a fellowship of believers. But as one who has always been a bit of a contrarian in life, "all" has more often than not only highlighted my feelings of exclusion and alienation. All to often the experiences that we "all" have shared are not experiences that I have been a part of.

I have thought back to my own usage of the word "all" in sermons and lectures. I realize that I have become much more careful about assuming that everyone in a room has shared the same experiences. At North Park Seminary, it was important to remind myself that not everyone was a part of the same denomination. We did not necessarily have a shared experience of the Covenant Church. How important this was did not hit me until I ended up at a primarily Methodist seminary where I have been reminded over and over again that I am in the minority.

This use of "all" exclusive is rarely meant to cause harm. It is a part of desire we "all" have to connect with those around us, to be reconciled with one another, to emphasize how we are similar, how we are one in Christ. Yet too often the "all" excludes by not recognizing the diversity within our unity. The "all" can cause us to oversimplify our faith and our experience of the kingdom of God.

This is where my own "all" bias comes in. I am a person who is seeking to know a more complex God. It is comforting for me to know that God is beyond all we can think or know. It makes me feel included when we break down the universal nature of "all" and consider the wonderfully complex diversity of our community. For many, this complexity makes God seem out of reach. It brings instability to an already destabilized world. So perhaps I need to make room for those who need "all" inclusive, who need to emphasize our similarities rather than our differences... Perhaps...

As we use the word "all" in an effort to include everyone, though, I would ask you to consider who is not a part of "all." For someone is always on the outside. And sometimes the outside is where Christ is dwelling. And sometimes the outside is exactly where we are called to bring Christ... to welcome "all" into our family of faith.

Sociologist of the Week...

The sociologist for this week is Max Weber. While Durkheim looked at a particular expression of religion in Australia, Weber tried to take in the entire scope of religious history and through his observations draw out themes. His main concern was to study how religion was a force for change in history. Somewhat more encouraging than Durkheim’s more static view of the world.

The more negative aspect of Weber’s work is his assumption that religion essentially developed out of magic. He believed that magicians essentially worked individually and they were at great risk of losing their clientele if they were not able to continue performing magical feats (magical in the sense of providing food or healing a sick child… not escaping from a block of ice hanging over Times Square or making the Statue of Liberty disappear). In order to protect their “interests” (key Weberian term), they had to come up with some other possible reasons why their magic might not work. One solution… create a god that had to be pleased for magic to work. If the magic didn’t work, perhaps the client had displeased the god. This creation of god (an abstraction) eventually developed into a whole system of beliefs. The magicians became priests of this new religion and dogma and beliefs were part of their way to stay in power.

So, I’ve significantly oversimplified Weber’s thesis… but he does highlight something very important to consider. How our own interests shape what we believe and how we act. Maybe more accurately, how our interpretations of the truth can be influenced by our own interests. Some might argue that white evangelicals, while very sincere in their beliefs, are blind to racism because it serves their best interests. This is not necessarily a conscious decision or an individual one. If it is in the best interest of those in power in a community to preserve certain beliefs, they have a way of influencing interpretations and translations. This is not necessarily always the case, but it is worth considering. What interests are served by a particular interpretation of scripture? How have your ethics or the way you live out your faith been affected by your interests? I know that I have made myself fairly comfortable in a middle class lifestyle in the United States. I don’t have a very radical ethic regarding wealth or poverty. Do these things not concern God? Is it possible that my own interests… and that of our capitalist economy… have had some impact on how I live out my faith in these areas?

Weber also felt that there were moments in life where revolution was possible. In those moments, he saw key ideas form in a society, key leaders arise and key events take place that somehow just fit together. He called it elective affinity. When these things came together, the sum was greater than any one of the parts and the world shifted a little on its axis. Weber’s key example was the Protestant Work Ethic and capitalism. Religion often played a key role in these momentous movements as did something Weber termed “charisma” or “the prophetic.” Interestingly, Weber is using these terms sociologically. Rather than linking them to faith, he links them to how they function in society.

I suppose I choose to believe something different. I believe that these moments when everything comes together are more than just matters of human interest or historical accidents. I think they are moments when God is at work in this world. Having said that, I need to consider if at times they are also caused when some other force was at work for not all these momentous changes have been for the good of humanity or this earth. Weber asked about the role of religion in these great movements of history. I would ask the same question, but from a slightly different perspective. Not simply how did they happen, but why did they take the direction they did? Why do some things that start out so beautiful turn out so destructive? Why do some small movements become great works of good in our world? Does our faith, individually and corporately, shape the world for good or evil? We all want to say for the good, but can we prove that? Would a sociologist observing us agree?

Blood Diamond

Last night I watched the movie Blood Diamond, a story about conflict diamonds in Africa. The story follows the lives of a diamond smuggler from Zimbabwe and a fisherman from Sierra Leone that weave together over a giant pink diamond found in the mines. It was an excellent movie with a social and political message as well as a story of personal redemption.

The movie centers on the civil war raging in Sierra Leone… there are scenes of villages being overtaken, the rebels taking the capital city, captives in the mining camps, children forced into the army, a refugee camp of over a million people, and a foreign corporation that is profiting from it all. I remember thinking how grateful I was that I don’t live in that world. I can’t imagine being dragged out of my home and forced to flee with nothing but the clothes on my back. Living with the constant threat of violence.

Two things came to mind… first, could that sort of violence one day make its way here to the United States. What makes me think that this country or my home is immune to such a possibility? Perhaps it won’t be the violence of war. Perhaps it will be a natural disaster or an economic crash. Some in this country have lived with this reality. Would my life be different if I lived with the reality that all of this is transitory?

Second, how is it that this country has avoided civil war and/or genocide for so long? We are so often the ones that profit from the wars taking place overseas. How do I contribute to these wars by demanding an unlimited supply of oil, diamonds, or other natural resources? By refusing to carpool or take public transportation. By not recycling. By wanting everything new, fast, and convenient. Like having a DVD delivered to my home each week by mail so I can watch a movie such as Blood Diamond.

Will watching this movie change my life? Not as much as it should. But perhaps it will nudge me a little.