Growing up, when I would hear talk about unity among churches, it was often with despair at the fact that there were so many different denominations. If only those differences might go away and we could all be one big, happy church.
Over the years my thoughts around “unity” have shifted. I no longer see it as a call for those who are being brought together to be morphed into one thing with no differences. In fact, I think unity is stronger when the parts are able to be truly authentic and honest about who they are.
Growing up as a child in the 80s, Martin Luther King, Jr. day was often marked by the call of his speech “I Have a Dream” and then a call to be “color blind” in order to make this happen. A call many well-meaning Christians heeded. As a high schooler this shifted for me when I went through an anti-racism training with other youth leaders. During one of the exercises, I was standing next to my friend “Nick,” who happened to be black. We stood in a line holding hands and then when different statements were read about our experiences in the world we either took a step forward or backwards. Soon, I was reaching to hold even just a finger of Nick’s hand. Eventually we had to fully separate; by the end of the exercise we had a giant space between us. In debriefing the exercise I heard Nick’s frustration with the concept of people being “color blind.” He said when someone talks about being “color blind” because everyone is God’s child, what he hears is that they don’t want to fully see him, that his story isn’t welcome. They don’t want to hear the truth about his experiences. They don’t want to see the unique gifts he brings. They don’t want to see the brokenness and pain that he struggles with especially as a young black man living in the United States. They try to wipe away the whole truth of his life.
This moment of listening was one of the hardest and most important moments in my life. It helped me realize how much I had to learn. It opened my eyes to my lens of privilege with which I viewed the world. I had never thought about the fact that I could always find bandaids that matched my skin. I had never thought about the fact that when I entered the room people didn’t act afraid of me. What also happened is that my friendship with Nick and our conversations about all kinds of things were deeper, more honest, and more authentic. Because we were willing to name those differences, our unity was stronger. We could celebrate the ways the diversity brought depth and a variety of gifts to the table. We could also be honest about the struggles and brokenness of the systems of sin that challenged the call of God for community around us and within our relationships. We could work on engaging those issues because they were named and heard. We opened ourselves to be curious about each other’s experiences that seemed at times very different. We listened deeply to not only these things that were different but also the things that were similar, which were often things like the longing to be seen and known, the desire to feel safe, and the hope for the future.
In Matthew 22:37-40, Jesus reminds us that the greatest commandment is to Love God, but the second greatest is like that, to love your neighbor as yourself. For to love our neighbor is to love the image of God that they bear. To love our neighbor as ourselves, is to acknowledge that they, like we, long to be known, seen, heard, validated, and valued. To love our neighbor is to engage from a place of deep listening, authenticity, humbleness, and compassion.
Now when I look at the various denominations in the world today I see the variety of ways that God is willing to come down and connect with God’s people. After all, just like many of our Spotify playlists are drawn to different genres, why are we surprised that different worship styles might connect with different people? I see a God that gave us the gift of diversity that brings so much beauty into the world. Genesis talks about how humans are created in the image of God. When I acknowledge that diversity around me, I get a glimpse into the complexity and depth of God.
I have always loved books and stories. They have introduced me to people and places I may have never otherwise met or visited. However, over the years I have come to truly appreciate the opportunity to hear the stories of people I meet. To listen deeply to understand and to learn about their experiences. One of the things I love about working at a University is that it is a place that calls together a variety of people, from a variety of places, and a variety of interests. We live together, eat together, learn together, explore together, and hopefully have fun and laugh together. May we also strive to be a community that loves each other by making time and space to listen deeply to each other’s stories and experiences with curiosity and compassion.
In Faith & Service,
Deaconess Kristin Lewis
