By Rev. Jeff Lackie on May 4, 2019.
It was the day after the provincial election – a campaign that left people on both sides of the aisle diminished by harsh words and constantly shattered expectations of civility. It was also the beginning of Holy Week – seven days in the year when I find I have less time than usual for the “back and forth” chatter of the coffee shop line – but on this day, such chatter was all around me … and predictably, I was drawn in. The bait that caught me was someone’s statement that ‘everyone was happier’ thanks to the election results. I offered a gentle, under-my-breath reply; “Not everyone…” My jubilant coffee shop companion then took me to school on the basics of political reality as he understood them. I respectfully offered an alternative vision. Imagine my gratitude as he informed me that my approach was wrong. I kept my blood pressure down by reminding him that it was Holy Week and that I had more on my mind than the ins and outs of provincial political machinations, and I retreated to a corner table to drink my coffee. Not how I wanted to start the day, but the encounter got me thinking … When, as a follower of Jesus, I am given the opportunity to share my joy, my freedom, or my point of view on the way the world might be, I must be careful. Not because I’m afraid of causing offence – the gospel is nothing but offence to the status quo – but because I’m aware of the terrible cost of arrogant certainty. Such behaviour has cost the Christian Church her privilege – and may I say; good riddance. The misery that Christian dominance has caused to indigenous persons (all over the globe) – the political mischief managed in the name of God – the ‘do as I say, not as I do’ behaviour of church leaders (and followers) down the years breaks the heart of God. Those who would follow Jesus must do better. To be fair, we are trying. In the Presbyterian Church in Canada, our statement of faith suggests that our mission must take place in “…the spirit of humility, as beggars telling others where food is to be found.” (Living Faith – 9.2.1). Fortunately, I was privileged (during this same Holy Week) to have experienced such humility at the invitation of the Islamic Association of Medicine Hat. Following the horrific attacks in New Zealand, I had reached out in sympathy and solidarity to a contact at the local mosque. The response was an invitation to their open house on Palm Sunday afternoon. We were welcomed, fed, and treated to a gracious explanation of who they are and what they do in and for the community. I was reminded of the humanness of our religious expressions, and I rejoiced in it. Once again, I was reminded that diversity doesn’t threaten my faith – it enhances it. My desire to follow Jesus does not grant me permission to dismiss my neighbour. My Muslim neighbour, my political rival, my LGBTQ+ neighbour – all of these I am invited to love, not that they might be “changed” but that God might be glorified. And in those moments of foolish frustration when I’m tempted to arrogant certainty, I’m humbled in the knowledge that God’s love has the breadth and depth that I lack – and I can rejoice that God is bigger (thank God) than all of us. Rev. Jeff Lackie is minister of Word & Sacrament, St. John’s Presbyterian Church. 10