Uncovering Joy: Tales of Everyday Urban Spirituality (11 of 25)

Uncovering Joy – Unfolding Fear 

“Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Luke 15:1-2
“„Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven.‟ What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.” Matthew 18:10-14 

Fear can be a power that overwhelms and causes us to turn back or change directions or fold up our lives and stay just as we are or arm ourselves with the understanding that we can destroy that which causes fear or anxiety to well up within us. I remember the basement of our house when I was growing up. It was an old unfinished place that you went to do laundry, work out with weights and pull something out of what we called the fruit locker. At night, I hated going down there. When I did, even a light was not able to stop my anxiety from rising within me. There were also those times when the light was not working and I would have to go down there in the dark. Sometimes I would just go do something else until someone replaced the bulb. At other times, I darted down the stairs and quickly did what needed to be done and ran back to the kitchen. Whew. 

Back then, I knew nothing was really down there waiting to attack me. I had nothing to fear. This is when I first really became aware of the meaning of anxiety. There was a nameless, faceless something-or-other that could be my demise. It was not like seeing a guy with a knife standing in the corner of the basement calling my name. It was a terror within. It was my projection of what could be and what might happen if - like in those horror flicks on Friday night – monsters and demons really did exist and were ready to carry me off to hell. Anxiety about what might be is like the power of fear - it cuts short life - it redefines life. 

For many people, cities and wider urban areas are often trigger moments of anxiety and fear. Watching the news and seeing crime statistics noted for various parts of the city can be a determining factor for people to sell a home or avoid buying a home in some areas. One robbery in an urban neighborhood causes so much anxiety the story spreads like wildfire so that it appears as though every house around me has been robbed. In a suburban area, we somehow keep the lid on such anxious wildfires. At the same time, because of poverty, systemic racism, vicious classism, and a litany of other conditions in much of urban life, some areas of the city do warrant a bit of precaution that makes people anxious and at times, rightly fear-filled. 

I usually tell people that I have always been somewhat of a coward. Anxiety can easily take over my thinking and acting. Faced with a situation of danger, my fear factor rises so quickly I get stuck in one of the parts of flee – freeze – fight. Most often it is flee...now! Then again, it has been the city that has turned my head and heart to such words as: “For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from God. God alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. Trust in God at all times, O People; pour out your heart before God; God is a refuge for us.” (Ps. 62: 6-8). At least, I will allow myself to step into a situation before I go running. 

Urban spirituality takes seriously the brokenness of life within us and that which is all around us. We must be aware of the brutality of the world and we must be aware of what makes for some parts of our world to appear brutal. Like the tough guy who comes off tough because of fears of failure or rejection, the life of the city and its people long for the healing presence of the Truly Human One, as Walter Wink calls the Son of Man. As followers of Jesus within the urban arena of life, we are gifted with many moments in which we are invited to face our anxieties and hold fast to the promises of our God in the middle of our fears. We are also given moments in which we can be the available presence of our God who will risk being vulnerable and thus experience the surprise of new life that is too often buried beneath our anxieties and fears. 

An essential discipline of urban spirituality is breathing. Just like so many spiritual disciplines, breathing is essential. Breathing allows for the promises of God to fill up our lives before we even remember the words of comfort that Scripture holds for us when we are despairing or troubled, filled with anxiety or filled with fear. I breathe - deeply - quite a bit. A coward like me needs to practice such a discipline in order to allow a bit of time to re-view what is before me. 

One night about 3am, the sirens at the church started going off. The parsonage was across the street. In those days when the alarm went off it was part of my routine to get up out of bed, get dressed, and then go outside and walk around the building to check all the doors. I would then go in the building and reset the alarm before zipping through all the parts of the building. Our building did not have a monitored system and our precinct did not have enough police cars to attend to anything beyond the very basic needs. Going in and turning off the alarm was simply a neighborly gesture. 

As I proceeded down the alley, a voice rang out from the upstairs of what was the “crack house” on our street. “Pastor Al, Pastor Al, wait. I’ll be right down.” So here I was standing in the alley in this moment of nighttime anxiety filled with the real presence of someone who could quickly and realistically turn this all into an adventure I had not intended to enter. I breathed - deeply. I was greeted with “You can’t be doing this all by yourself, something could happen.” Hell yes, I thought...and something still could happen! To my surprise, I was gifted with a partner, a protector, a guardian, an advocate. In another time and in another place, he would not be this person. But here, we became a team. I found myself in the strange place of honoring the humanity of this man as he took the time to walk with me through the night. Joy - uncovered.

Unfolding fear and I might add - unfolding anxiety, is the exercise of letting one’s sensibility not be the ruler of life. This all means that during the simple act of taking a breathe, we allow ourselves the space and time to retrace what is causing the anxiety to swell up in us or the fear to run us ragged. In that time – that breath – we can walk around the situation looking at both the data available in the situation at hand and the personal history that is welling up internally. We may be urged to “run like hell” or we may be told to rest in God alone and stay open to what is being presented to us. 

There are many things that can cause us to feel threatened. It may not be an encounter in a dark alley with a siren blasting through the urban night. When we can name those times when we feel threatened or unsure of what may come of our next experience, we become open to take a look at other people and new situations. I find that such threatening moments are best faced with an open heart - for our God is close by in many ways and shapes we often miss. 

Urban spirituality, beyond calling for us to breathe, also nurtures among us a willingness to welcome the stranger. There wrapped in the façade of another person is the child who longs to be upheld and honored and welcomed like Lazarus in the arms of Abraham. The city is a blessed ground filled with the presence of so many of God’s delightful characters that we are given a vision of what the Reign of God, in all its diversity and glory, looks like in terms of everyday life. 

A phone call on a Tuesday afternoon created a little stir within my life. A man named Mark wanted to talk. He heard that our congregation was open to the full inclusion of GLBT people in the life of the congregation. Actually, at that time, our “vote” was primarily focused on gay and lesbian people – as many of us did not know what “bi” meant and word transgender was something beyond any of our conversations. Well, Mark was also known as Marsha. He tried to help me understand who s/he was. He graciously allowed me to ask all my questions in order to give me a deeper understanding of what to expect. We agreed that we would meet the following Tuesday night as it fit with his schedule. Mark asked if he should come as Mark or Marsha – I fumbled and stuttered. In a moment of time – within that breath that gives gracious space to be open to the gifts of God that interrupt our lives – I realized that I was foaming with anxiety. 

It was after that breath that I was able to tell him to come as either Mark or Marsha. I told him that choirs meet on Tuesdays and he could expect to see and be greeted by others. I think he heard the anxiety in my voice along with the welcome. He said he would come as Mark. 

That night I learned about cross-dressing. He tried to explain transsexual, transvestite, and transgender. I know I did not retain all the differences. I heard how Mark had to keep his life hidden from others at work. Most memorable was the story about walking across the large parking lot at a local mall at night when the lot was quite empty and his car was parked out on the rim of what was earlier a full parking lot. He said that he knew this was the exact scenario in which women could be isolated, attacked, raped, and beaten. He was Marsha and she knew the feeling of that fear that can press down upon women in such places. But then Mark said he was brought to the point of trembling fear and anxiety because he realized that if he was attacked as Marsha, they would find out he was Mark. That thought made my office cold. That was his world – our world. 

The bottom line of the conversation was that a support group he attended was looking for a new place to meet. Since our church building was in an accessible part of the city and most of the people who attended the group were in or around the Columbus areas and Redeemer was a Reconciling in Christ (complete inclusion of LGBTQ folks within all levels of the congregation) congregation the group wanted to ask for permission to hold their monthly meeting at Redeemer. Yes, when they gathered for their meetings, they would all come as people identifying as women.

Like any request for building space use I took the request to the church council. In the best way I could, I explained who the group was and what they would be doing in the space we provided if we chose to do so. Again, the graciousness of the saints of God is something to behold as we attempt to follow the faithfulness of Jesus in God’s Reign. There was concern about what members would think if they walked into a meeting in progress. There was concern about the large numbers of young men who play basketball on our parking lot every evening in good weather and how those encounters might go. Yes, most of us were afraid and anxious and we were not sure we were ready to deal with the situations and questions that could cause more anxiety for more us and others.

Then, we became witnesses to urban spirituality in practice. Someone suggested that the members of church council accept an invitation we were given by the requesting group. We were invited to attend their group meeting at their present site so that we might better understand who would be taking part in this new group at Redeemer.  We would also be able to face our fears and anxieties directly. We accepted the invitation. 

Over the next two month members of the council took part in this support group and were amazed at what we saw and learned and, in that, how we were handed a gift of human experience so many people never have. The wonder of humanity and the expansiveness of its glory were amazing. That which may have once been odd and queer and forbidden was given a place within our notion of humanity and the church and the struggles and joys of those who are not at all as I am. 

I remember people being touched to see that some of the older men dressed as older women. One was in a housecoat that fit the grandmothers and mothers we knew as our own. Several were dressed in the best business suits – again fitting their life routine. Most common was the ordinary...the basic clothing in which a woman would feel most comfortable – like me in my jeans and t-shirt. Though the support group eventually decided to meet in another place that would give them better security and privacy than our building, again the life of this urban setting filled many of us with a new sense of joy that we had not anticipated or known previously. 

There is so much room available in God’s Reign. Yet, we often do not let ourselves open the doors and let all the wind blow through so that we can be caught up in a sacred wind that surprises us and takes us up into a greater sense of peace and wholeness that was beyond all that we could see. 

The little ones who are left out of our circles of fellowship called the church often long to be at home among us. When we are a part of a congregation that is willing to engage itself with the blessed presence of people often left out of the celebration of church life, we find that the celebration is enhanced and joy abounds. It is fine to be anxious and filled with fear. That is a reality of being human. When we face those anxieties and those fears within the routines of urban church life, Jesus is in the room with us - breathing new life along side us.