Well, we had a delightful weekend together. We went for hikes in the mountains, ate Duffy Rolls, played "Ticket to Ride" and watched movies ("The Cinderella Story" was the ladies' suggestion. Seriously.) But one of the best moments (for me, at least) was not one that I had planned. Or even one that I had expected.Brian and I were driving down Broadway, on the way to drop my dog off at the pet-sitter for a few days (thanks Joe and Ann!). We were chit-chatting about traffic, dogs, bikes, ministry--the normal things for us--when Brian paused and said, "So, how's your marraige going?" And then he waited for me to give an honest answer.
And for me, that was the moment. The highlight of my weekend. It was even better than my Irish Cream Duffy Roll.
It probably sounds hard to believe (especially if you've ever had Duffy Rolls), but it's true. That was a powerful moment for me because it showed me the value of our friendship. It showed me that our friendship went beyond Brian's willingness to fly out to Denver so we could hang out of the weekend, beyond his willingness to go out for a beer and watch the Nuggets lose (talk about a lucky shot!), beyond our ability to sit around and swap stories about the good old days in Mr. Vander Maatan's Fifth Grade Class. It showed me that our friendship was deep enough for Brian to take an interest in my marraige; for him to take a risk and ask a potentially uncomfortable question. It showed me that he cared about the things that really matter.
Just think about it: when is the last time you've been asked such a question? When is the last time you have asked such a question? If you're like me, it's been a while.
And that's why I'm so thankful for friends like Brian--and for moments like that one we had on Broadway. Because Brian realized that it was not only his right to ask me those kinds of questions, but his obligation. It was his obligation because Brian and I aren't just friends. We're brothers in Christ. And brothers (and sisters) care about each other enough to ask each other questions. Even hard questions.
My hope is that we at First Church will continue to develop as a community so that we can ask each other these sorts of hard questions. I pray that we will be people who recognize that our business is in fact our neighbor's business--that we won't privitize our faith and assume that all we do is just a matter between us and God, but it's also a matter between us and our brothers and sisters in Christ. I hope that we're people who are humble enough, honest enough, and (dare I say) holy enough to ask--and be asked--tough questions. These questions may be about our marraige, the choices we make in raising our kids, the people we want to date, the things we say about our neighbors, our church attendance, the amount of money we put in the offering plate, or anything else in the Christian life.* The point is that being in community--being a member of the Body of Christ--means caring enough about each other to speak honestly (with grace AND truth) to each other about these very important things.
So, let's hear it. Are we already that kind of community? If not, what's stopping us? What do we have to let go of--or gain--to become that kind of place?
*For more on this as it realates to our sexuality, see Chapter 3 of Lauren Winner's excellent book, Real Sex, entitled "Communal Sex".
1 comment:
You are fortunate to have such a friend. Friendships like this, in my experience, are rare. They seem to become more rare as one gets older and the pressures of career and family take a toll. What used exist without even thinking about it, now requires work, especially when many miles separate friends.
I think we have a healthy community at First. Sometimes though, it feels like ‘the perfect little community’ because we don’t share our struggles and screw ups.
This reminds me of the section in Blue Like Jazz (surprise, surprise!) where Don talks about living with a bunch of hippies. He says that he loved living with them because they accepted him unconditionally. Don much preferred the hippies to his friends at the church camp, which was his next stop. It seems easy to accept someone unconditionally when you don’t really care how the other person chooses to live his or her life. But we do care. How do we as a community, love unconditionally and allow others to be open and honest about their failures, and successes, while still encouraging one another to live ‘rightly’?
Keep blogging. Maybe this will be a step in building our community on line.
Post a Comment