Cathedral's Table(s): A Bridge

For most of my life, I have been a bridge builder. 

I see the gaps and somehow find myself standing in the middle of the chasm – trying to get two sides to see each other, and to see a neighbor, to look at them with compassion to meet them where they are….and be more curious than certain about what they think they know[1] about their life and their story.

I can trace different forms of it back to my childhood and the lived example of my parents.
It’s what led me to start Cathedral of the Beloved.

I saw the needs of the community all around me.  I also realized the sanctuary spaces offered in congregations were not always accessible.  So, I felt called to be out in the middle of the community to help bridge the gap. 

​And I felt called to create a greater and lived understanding of what it means to be the Body of Christ as written in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians.  As Paul writes, “one cannot say to the eye I have no need of you, nor to the ear I have no need of you.” We are one body with many parts. 
All help to make this world more beautiful.  All take part to help the body function and bring it into greater vitality. To be co-creators of sanctuary together.
I am still learning.
I still make mistakes.
Still hoping.
Still praying….as Jesus does in today’s gospel, that a community of the faithful being able to understand itself as one will come to fruition.

What I know is this, there is no second-class economy in God’s vision for this world.  God’s vision is a vision built on radical self-giving love and reciprocal hospitality.[2]
All give.  All receive.  All have basic needs met.
All in the name of love.

So, as co-creators, we keep tilling the soil, planting new seeds and watching for growth… inviting each other, encouraging each other…. with, always with, God’s help. 
This week I was reminded of this as I stood in a median in Pittsfield talking with one of our community members for over an hour. They framed it this way.

“We all have stuff.  You have stuff you’re dealing with….like running around raising your kids…..and so do I.  So, does she,” pointing to his partner.  “We are no different; it just comes in different forms.  You help me and I help you.”

This is what love does (my words not his).

The other thing I have learned is that bridge work includes agitation because it’s the friction, the sandpaper, that wakes up our sleeping brains, to get others, ourselves, the community to see things differently. 
As Isaiah writes,
“I am about to do a new thing says the Lord.  Do you not perceive it?”
Maybe…maybe not. For most of us, if we are honest, it depends on the day.

It can be the holy loving nudge that pushes against the self-beliefs that keep us complacent, like, “who am I to tell my story or to stand up or to take action.” 
This is exactly what Moses said to God, when God asked him to confront Pharoah.
“Who are you not to?”
Using our voices and sharing our stories, the fullness of who we are, is one way we work toward justice. To remind those in power to remember they serve the whole community.

And when we do this, we proclaim:  I am loved.  I am worthy of love and so is my neighbor. 

Our stories become ways to call forth community accountability on a systemic level. 
Because that is what it means to honor the dignity of EVERY. HUMAN. BEING.

As you may or may not know in Pittsfield, the city has proposed a new ordinance targeting those who are impoverished and sleeping outside.  And if you remember the panhandling ordinance, this is a new and separate one. In short form, it seeks to criminalize both those who are without homes and camp in public spaces and those who seek to assist them with the necessary supplies to do so.

Friends, we were made “for such a time as this,” as the prophet Esther says in the book of Esther. 
To proclaim, to model, so show the world it doesn’t have to be this way.

Today, we hear the final portion of Jesus’ “high priestly prayer” before his arrest and crucifixion.  He talks about his longing to see his followers live out a way of being, a way that proclaims the unity and love that is expressed within the Triune God, co-equal and one. 

As people of The Way, a community that seeks to love one another as we have been unconditionally loved by our Creator, we are all called to be bridge builders…. To stand in the place where we are, here and now, while looking toward God’s unrealized and yet articulated future of Shalom and Justice for all people.

For some time, there has been a meme that says, “when you have more than enough, build a longer table not a higher fence.” Dave Bjorlin wrote a hymn with the same sentiment, Build a Longer Table.  Here are two of the verses:

“Build a longer table, not a higher wall.
Feeding those who hunger, making room for all.
Feasting together, stranger turns to friend,
Christ breaks walls to pieces; false divisions end. 
 
When we lived as exiles, refugees abroad,
Christ became our doorway to the reign of God.
So must our tables welcome those who roam.
None can be excluded: all must find a home.”
 
Our bridge at Cathedral is our table(s).
As we break bread together, huddled together around tables partaking in chili, soup or sandwiches, while our physical hungers are satiated, we also bridge the gap from isolation to community, as strangers become friends and relationships are formed.

Our tables, are part of God’s banquet feast where all are welcome, and it does not end here.

God’s table extends to the streets and to City Hall as we pray not only with hearts…we pray with our hands, our feet, our stories, while also learning to make room for one more, especially for those in which we disagree, because they too, are created in the image and likeness of God too.   

May we be willing to take a stand. May we be willing to speak truth.  May we be willing to listen and hear with ears of compassion, as we seek to co-create with God a community that reflects Christ’s
welcome and hospitality.  Amen.

[1] The Rev. Claire Bamberg has said this on multiple occasions as a professional coach trainer.  www.potentials.us
[2] Geoffrey M. St. J. Hoare.  Pastoral Perspective in Feasting on the Word. Year C Vol. 2.  Pg 542