If I cannot be friends with another believer in a different stage, denomination, career, social class, or race than me, HOW can I expect to be friends with someone of a different faith altogether?
Isn't Jesus enough to bring us together?
We limit what God can do.
We say:
"She isn't married. She doesn't understand what my family life is like!"
"He has a job where he works only part-time, and me? I work 55 hours a week!"
"They have money, lots of it. I can't even pay my cell phone bill."
"He's awkward to talk with. I've tried, but there isn't a connect."
"They've only been a Christian for a year. It's just hard to relate on a spiritual level."
Here's one I've said {please don't hate me for this confession}:
I have THREE kids--my oldest is 9! She doesn't really understand what it's like to be a mother to three kids [and work, AND have a husband that works 50-60 hours a week, plus travel].
Here's one that Bookguy has said {sorry honey, for outing you}:
"I work 55 hours a week in a high-pressure job. How can that guy and I even understand each other, let alone be friends?"
And so we bock. We don't pursue. We don't move forward in community even though we have Christ to unite us.
I'm guilty.
I know why we do this. Time is limited. Selective reduction, right? There are a lot of things pinning for our attention, and we have to choose. Also, it takes effort to reach across the aisle and love someone that's different than you. Many times I don't want to. I want to hang out with people who are like me, who make sense to me, who are easy, who fill me, who don't annoy me, who get my life and what I'm going through.
Me. I often make it about ... me.
I don't make it about him, about my neighbor, about his needs above my own.
Two years ago my husband and I changed churches, leaving our mega church home and joining a new church plant. I went from being known to knowing no one. From being in front of 1,000 people singing worship songs to standing in front of 120. From having accessible to us all sorts of equipment, supplies, comforts, and volunteer hands to having virtually nothing. [We meet in a gymnasium at a jr. high and sit on cold metal chairs]. From having a children's program full of curriculum, volunteers, teachers, and events, to three classrooms [total] for our church's 30+ children. But most of all, we went from a myriad of friend options, a slew of people just like us who would invite us over, pursue us, text and call us, who waved us over to sit with them, and who made us feel at ease, to an all-new social sphere, foreign, intimidating, challenging, and exciting too.
Back then we had a smorgasbord of friends to choose from, and many of them were just like us. They 'got' me. They understood my life. They could relate. They were easy.
Which isn't bad. But I never, not once at our old church, felt responsible for welcoming in someone on the fringe, for including someone different than me. I tried to be kind, to be friendly. But I did not see it as my responsibility to sit with someone who was sitting alone. I always sat with my friends, in the same section, where we'd pass notes about where we'd have lunch afterwards.
At our new church, with demographics slightly younger than us, of young families and singles and new believers and people who dress differently than me and people who have been hurt by Church or people who are just exploring who Jesus is, I'm confronting a new challenge. That is, can I befriend anyone?
Jesus, friend to tax collectors and prostitutes.
Jesus, friend to the outcast and sinner.
Jesus, who loved the people who betrayed him.
Shoot folks, it's hard for me to be friends with someone different than me who has Christ. How can I be friends with someone different than me WITHOUT Him?
That annoying woman on the volleyball court who keeps pointing out every flippin' rule and stopping the game to argue foot faults--her. I need to love her.
That guy on our street who's in everybody's business, and his wife who gossips to high heaven--them. Those people I am to love.
The homeless guy in front of the pharmacy who smells. Him. I love.
The baseball coach who is overly competitive, argumentative, and disrespectful to the kids--him. I am to love him.
There are people ALL over that are unnatural for me to love.
And I'm sure I'm unnatural for many people to love too.
It should be easy in the Church. If He is your One Big Thing and He is my One Big Thing, He should be enough to bridge ANY divide, ANY social status, life stage, race, doctrinal position, or personality clashes.
We practice loving. One person at a time. Starting in the Church.
Resist limiting who you can and will be friends with based on your want and your 'natural connection.'
Choose to sit beside the person sitting alone.
Walk up to the couple that is noticeably new and say hello.
Invite people out to lunch you've never included before.
This is what God asks of us. It's hard. And beautiful. And for a purpose.
That you and I may keep growing closer to the One Big Thing.
5 comments:
Karen, this is good, honest and pure truth that more of us (ME!) need to hear. Thank you for being willing to vulnerably call us out on our sin. I'm going to sit on this one for awhile.
straight to my heart. grateful.
Thank you Lesley and Lesa. It's so hard, isn't it?! I'm encouraged that we are in this together! Hugs to you both.
loved this - I've thought often about this since our community here is soooo transient.... and even more lately has we've changed churches
I was looking for this particular topic through an online search. I have been to different churches since I was about 12 years old. I was made fun of in school a lot so when I come to Christ I was so excited because I thought it would mean having people around me that would accept and love me in spite of my issues, I thought I would have great friends. Sadly even at the age of 39 and many churches since I started following Christ. I have endless efforts to reach out for fellowship and I have found in the settings I was in that if you don't see eye to eye with all the doctrines or you don't fall all over yourself about the spiritual superstars like the pastor or other leaders then people pull away from you. I believe in living what I believe and what I believe comes from a personal relationship with Christ not from a doctrine that a group of people set up and I don't want to walk out something I don't see for myself. ho believe differently. It doesn't bother me when someone believes differently because I realize that since God is such a big God that it would be impossible for me to know everything and so I learn from others that are different. I don't blurt out my differences to others but people notice that I am not doing everything that the other members are involved in and then people pull away, they can't be friends outside of the organizational regime. I find it very hurtful to not be able to have relationships with people who say they believe in Christ just because we have differences. It seems like people are more in an exclusive club rather than part of one big body of Christ. I hope I didn't come across disrespectful but this is how it feels to be on the other side. This is how it feels to be measured by whether I spend time in a prayer room or not, or my level of excitement over a leader is not high. People are generally friendly upfront but try to go beyond that and it is very difficult. I really see all believers as being equals whatever title they might have. I have never understood why someone in the body of Christ is unable to associate with someone with different points of view.
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