I did something this morning that I probably should have done ages ago. I visited a church down the street. It was a small church (though larger than the many storefront churches in the neighborhood) with about a hundred people worshipping this morning. The music was good, the minister energetic, and the ritual of tradition deep. I never knew what to expect exactly when someone in the sanctuary changed position or we stood or there was a quiet pause. This was a church filled with traditions and practices that were largely unfamiliar to me. The style of the preacher, the combination of music with the preaching, the offering procedure, the songs.... all unfamiliar.
I knew before I walked in, though, that it would be unfamiliar. I would be lying if I said that I walked in confidently. I walked up the sidewalk to the front steps, took a deep breath, and said out loud, "I can do this." I knew that whatever was inside those doors would be unfamiliar to me. I knew that I would be the only white person in the building. (Incidentally, I was right.)
I didn't just walk into a different church this morning. I walked into an entirely different culture. Three blocks from my house! This was a mere three blocks from my house. I am living right beside people with such a different experience of worship than me. How can I live here and be ignorant to this culture? Better yet, how can I live here and endeavor to reach beyond my ignorance? Ignorance is not bliss -- Ignorance lacks love. True love does not live in ignorance. I want to be a part of the neighborhood, not be afraid of it. I want to love the people here, on my block, down the street, on the bus. But, how can I love these people if I don't understand them? Or, at least attempt to understand? And, how do I start to understand? Lots of questions. Not many answers.
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