Cherished Diversities

A couple of weeks ago I had a big thrill. A friend of mine invited me to dinner, and the third party at our meal was Walter Brueggemann. What a delight. A genuine delight. I loved his sense of humor. I don't know - when I usually think of the Hebrew Scriptures - "Humor" is not the first word that jumps to mind (though perhaps it should). He laughed, we laughed, loud and long and often. We told stories and reveled in the mysteries and joys of life in the world, life in the Church, and life in the seminary.

I've been thinking on that evening as I've been reading, for Lent, "Prayers for a Privileged People." A couple of days this week, my friend and colleague De'Amon Harges (the Roving Listener), talked with a group of clergy (mostly younger clergy) from around the state who were gathered at Wabash College. We were asked to talk with them about the Church and it's mission and ministry in the world. I kept thinking of my evening with Walter and his little book of prayers.

Over the past week or so (okay, I'm sure it's been much longer than that) I've been meditating on the ways in which we in United Methodism in specific, and mainline protestantism in general, in this country, can get so distracted from the main thing (or even the main things) to which Jesus is attempting to draw the attention of his disciples. I wonder how it is that when I am so often around my colleagues there is so little conversation, except in the most surface and uninvolved and dispassionate way, about those around us who "the world looks down on and despises and thinks of as nothing" (in the words of Paul in the first chapter of I Corinthians). Oh...someone may offer a word in praise of a feeding ministry or a tutoring program - they may talk about housing the homeless...but if asked to name even one of the persons about whom they are speaking - nary a name arises out of their lips. And then I re-read the preface to Brueggemann's little book where he talks about how "our privilege tends to work against openheartedness." That helped me. Yes. That made some sense to me.

And then it especially came together this afternoon while talking with the poet, Mari Evans - in the midst of our neighborhood -- which even in the last 24 hours I have heard referred to as a "bad" neighborhood - as a place that people look down on - in fear and bigotry. Yes, yes, yes. Sometimes - perhaps too often -- our privilege works against openheartedness. But I had never thought of it that way before. And Mari ended our time together - talking poetry, faith and life...by reminding me of an essay in her little book "Clarity as Concept" - in which she longs for and looks forward to the day when we celebrate our "CHERISHED DIVERSITIES" (caps are mine). What a lovely term.

While that day may not yet be here - we can celebrate it on Sunday morning, sure enough. While that day may not yet be here - I can celebrate that in my conversations with others. While that day may yet not be here - I can find a way to see and know and celebrate those cherished diversities. I may find ways to cherish them actively. I can too often get bogged down in what I view to be the blindness of so many in our denomination -- a blindness that frustrates and angers me (an anger for which I'm grateful and view as a gift of God) - but that can turn me away from celebration, rather than fuel a joyful expression of those cherished diversities.

So - I am grateful today for Walter Brueggemann and Mari Evans...teachers, poets, joyful guides to this life. Thank you.