Translating Our Language of Faith to the Unchurched

Scott D. Anderson writes about a flight he took during which a woman sitting next to him, a Methodist, and he, a Presbyterian, began a conversation about why our Lord’s Prayer versions differed.  They talked about several matters in the church.  After twenty minutes, the high school student sitting on their row, asked, “What exactly is the Lord’s Prayer?”  Anderson writes:

I sat in stunned silence.  How could anyone not know about the Lord’s Prayer? And then I felt flush with embarrassment.  It was as if the Methodist and the Presbyterian had enjoyed an insider twenty-minute discussion about baseball, insensitive to our seatmate who didn’t really know anything about the game itself.  (From Presbyterians Being Reformed, Robert H. Bullock Jr., editor, p. 101)

That’s the kind of world we live in today.  Many of us in the church do not realize the extent to which the sea change has occurred.  We assume language, faith, knowledge, understanding, action and theology that may not be mutual at all.  The need for us to be patient and kind in conversations like the one above is critical.  We can make a judgment that shows up in our expression or in our words – “How could anyone not know about the Lord’s Prayer?” – before we even think about it.

That kind of judgment keeps people from returning to the church, if they make it through the doors in the first place.  They pick up quickly that they are not part of the “club” and we, even if it is unconscious on our part, are, somewhere deep within us, glad to be part of it and not sure we want to have to accommodate someone with very little knowledge of the Bible, the church, or God, for that matter.  We can make the good news and/or the church into a worthiness contest, which is not the way Jesus led his people.

Richard Rohr puts it this way:

So why do we make the Gospel into a cheap worthiness contest?  After all, we have all fallen short of the glory (Romans 3:23, 5:12) and all are saved by mercy (Romans 11:32-36).  Even Mary proclaims it of herself (four times!) in her “Magnificat” (Luke 1:47-55).  Popes and priests, presidents and politicians are all saved “en Cristo” and by mercy and in our undeserved state.  No exceptions.  God does not love us if we change.  God loves us so that we can change.  These are two very different scenarios, but most of Christian history has sadly chosen the first.  (From Rohr’s email meditation on January 26, 2011, “Opening Our Eyes to St. Paul”)

I invite you to think carefully about how you talk to others about your experience in the church and with your faith in Christ.  There will be opportunities where you, while being surprised, might need to have patience and understanding with someone who doesn’t know the language of faith.  We are reminded in Galatians 5:22-23, “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”  Let us use these fruits when we engage in these types of conversations.

Let me be clear that I am not laying a guilt trip on those of us who’ve been in the church a long time.  We come by our language of faith naturally, having been steeped in it.  Many in the communities surrounding our churches have not.  What better way is there to love someone into the faith than to gently and kindly talk with them about things that truly matter?  Keep your “people-eyes” open for the wonderful human beings God will most certainly put in your path. 

And, then, don’t forget to wear your nametag on Sunday morning so newcomers won’t feel awkward.  You may not like wearing them, but it is not about us, is it?

In Christ’s Service - Anne Clifton Hébert