Deck the Halls with Wailing Walls

Both Tuesday and Wednesday of this week I encountered a different perspective and walked away feeling refreshed and alive. Whenever you have the chance to see something from someone else’s viewpoint, letting go of your own opinions for a brief moment, it can really be exhilarating. It’s hard to do, because usually when we’re talking to someone, and we’re doing the ‘listening,’ we’re really just thinking about what we’re going to say next that makes us sound smart or impressive. Therefore, the challenge is to just listen, taking in every word of the other person, without any desire to throw some regurgitated bullcrap of a sentence back in their face.

Tuesday, while at a holiday party, I had a chance to talk to Juan, my socialist friend. Every American needs a socialist friend because they keep you appreciating the freedoms you have without forgetting the victims of the very system that provides those freedoms. Anyway, as Juan and I were talking, and he began to get on a topic about which he was most passionate. As he spoke, you could almost see and touch his passion about the issue, as if it were on display in a museum, and you had the only ticket to the grand opening. Juan and I discussed the changing landscape of Latin American politics, the need for American government reform at the local and federal levels, and his frustrations at his own inability to lead the revolution among the poor that is so badly needed in America today. As we were wrapping up, he looked at me and asked, “Cual es el lugar en Jerusalem donde los Judios lloran y oran?” (What is the name of the place in Jerusalem where the Jews cry and pray?) “The Wailing Wall,” I answered, which is the place in Jerusalem where countless people pray and beseech God daily. “Yes,” he said. “You are my wailing wall.” That was one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten in my whole life.

And yesterday, while navigating the mall crowds to feed our collective addiction to materialism, I ran into an old acquaintance while waiting in a line. Small talk, meaningless banter if you will, began the dialogue, but the tone quickly changed when she told me about her last four months in Guatemala. It was hard, she said, to go from learning how to live on $200 a month to returning to the land of plenty. Her perspectives had been so rearranged by living with the poor and the have-nots that the adjustment was difficult to learn how to live on much more. It was with the least of these that she felt the call of her young life: teach English to the poor children of the world. Still looking for a vehicle by which to conquer that dream, I wish her well on the journey.

More telling perhaps, was when I asked her, “So have you found a church in Nashville that you can identify with in terms of social viewpoint, outreach for the poor, and ministry to the needy?” Half laughing, but sad, she answered, “No. Have you?” Such is the sad state of Nashville churches. Again, here in the line at the camera store was a young person with so much energy, potential and desire to do good and to follow in the ways of Christ via identification with the poor, but who had nowhere to go. I have had that portion of our conversation with so many college-aged and young professionals that it is beginning to make me sick. While I relish being in the presence of such vibrant passion to help others, the reality of Nashville congregations is either 1) We live missionally and authentic lives, and you can join with us, but you must believe in the Baptist Faith and Message, or 2) We have great outreach programs, but we place them second or third compared with our beautiful building, our timeless traditions, and the political games we play.

I don’t think the message needs to be any clearer: Nashville, America, and Christianity are need of real followers of Jesus Christ, followers to gather together to pool resources and talent in order to reach people so that they may have life, and have it abundantly. It is a disgrace that countries in Africa have drought conditions when the fountains at the Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas use millions of gallons of water daily. It is a disgrace when people die of hunger on the streets of America while hotels and restaurants dump food like it was used kitty litter. What we need are people and communities who, like Jesus, listen to the needs of the world, and then go out of their way to meet them. The days of Christianity being a convenience are over. What we need are some wailing walls.