To understand this post, you must know that I am a WASP. That's a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant for those of you too young to know. I vote Republican. I am a conservative morally and politically. So with that as background, let me tell you that I was weirded out this weekend. Friday night we attended a political event in our community. This is not so unusual as we have been known to do this from time to time. But, this time, it was a dinner provided by a black friend of ours who is our county commissioner. He happens to be a Democrat. He won the election last fall (at the young age of 26) and was sworn in in January. But the loser (a white Republican) sued him over election irregularities, and a white Republican judge agreed to hold another election in April. If this is not blatantly prejudicial, I don't know what is. Well, there we sat, a few white faces in a sea of black. The singing was enthusiastic, the prayers profound, the meal delicious. The speaker from Waco recounted all of black history from Dred Scott to the present time.We soaked it all in. However, at the back of our minds was the niggling thought, "Does anybody here know we are really Republicans, and we voted for this man because we really like him and think he'll do a good job?" "Does anybody care?" We felt like spies in the enemy camp, thinking that any moment our game would be up and we would be denounced as, yes, Republicans! Thankfully, no such pronouncement came, hub prayed the benedicition for said candidate, and we left before we could be engaged in small talk. This morning, we actually marched in the Dogwood Festival parade in the entourage of this candidate. Again, there were a few white faces among many black. We all had a good time together and hope that our candidate wins this next election. And that our Republican friends don't disown us for voting, just this once, for this Democrat. The second thing today that felt weird was we ate lunch in the Masonic Hall. Someone had given us tickets for a free lunch there, and, being the moochers, uh, thrifty people we are, we, of course, accepted them. We descended into the basement of the Hall, received our lunches, and ate quickly. What goes on in those upper floors, anyway? Were the ordinary guys serving us really delving into idolatry on a weekly basis? I asked hub if he felt as weird as I did at these two events to which we would normally never venture. He said yes, he did feel strange. Almost like a spy, almost like a stranger in another culture. Now mind you, all these people look and talk exactly like people we see everyday in our jobs and community. So this "weird feeling" was simply because of the mindset I had protected that being either a Democrat or Mason is evil and that I should not associate intimately with these people. I'm sure they probably think the same about me. (eg.,How can I support a president who sent us into a war that was unwinnable, etc. ) Now, this is a long story to get to these questions: what do we do in our churches that seems totally alien to people who visit? Do we weird them out with our singing, clapping, hugging, and general carrying on? Do we explain what we're about? Do they see Jesus? Do we see them prejudicially as outsiders, unlike us? Do we care they feel strange and try to help them integrate? All comments are welcome.
1 comment:
I've always thought people look at us as weird, but I've found out, through some recent relationships, that that's not always true. Sometimes they don't know what goes on, but don't question it when they find out. That's been a revelation, because I'm always intimidated to talk to lost people, because I think they think Christianity is socially unacceptable. But, in fact, Christianity is not as foreign as I think it is. America may not be a Christian nation now, but it still has roots in Christianity, and I think that makes a difference. (Of course, America has roots in the Masons, too....)
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