Nine-year-old Billy was a popular kid on the
block. He had a circle of friends in the neighborhood; mostly boys. No girls
were allowed in any of the clubs he created on the spur of the moment. It was a
Saturday and his friends were hanging around his driveway bouncing a
basketball, skating on the sidewalk, drawing a hopscotch pattern on the
driveway with big pieces of colored chalk. Billy liked being the center of
attention. That's why he created all those clubs, like the Girl Haters Club and
the Backyard Bowling Club. On this Saturday everyone was doing their own thing
and kinda ignoring Billy, so he decided to create a new club. He went over,
picked up a piece of chalk and drew a circle on the sidewalk. Then, he yelled
to all his friends, "Everybody who wants to be in my Mighty Morphin’ Power
Rangers Club better jump into this circle right now, or you won't be in
it!" The boys dropped what they were doing and scrambled to get inside the
chalk circle. There was a lot of pushing and shoving as they tried to scrunch
themselves into Billy’s circle.
One thing Billy didn't realize was he had
drawn his circle too small. As he peeked through the tight circle of boys, Billy
could see his best friend Chris was left out. Chris was a bit smaller than the
others, so he got pushed aside in the rush. Billy couldn't leave Chris out of
the club. Besides, he really wanted all the boys from his block in the circle.
It's just that he drew his circle too small. And now look what happened. What
was he going to do?
With a big grunt Billy pushed his way out of
the circle and told them, "Everybody stay right there!" He went past
Chris, whose head was hanging down to his knees. He bent down and grabbed a
piece of chalk, and went back to the circle. From the line of the first circle,
Billy traced another line over and around the still body of Chris drawing him
into a larger circle. Chris now had a smile as bright as the Saturday sun. The other boys were relieved as they moved
into this bigger circle. The first one was just too tight. Pretty soon the
little game was over and the boys were all playing basketball together and
running over the top of Billy's oblong circle as if it were never there.
We tend to draw circles that mark who's in and
who's out. It's a part of human nature. Circle-drawing helps us identify who we
are. Boundaries and circles mark our identities and define our primary
relationships. We cannot survive in the world without some sense of identity.
In that sense circle-drawing can be a good thing. We draw a circle around our nation. "We are
Americans." We draw circles around our race. "We are White." We
draw a circle around our sexuality. "We are heterosexual." We draw a
circle our wallets. "We are middle-class." Circles let us know who we
are and to what groups we belong.
Circles help us to distinguish who's in and who's out, who we include
and who we exclude. Circle-drawing has been practiced by cultures throughout
the ages. And often circle drawing is a helpful way of clarifying our identity.
The ancient Mediterranean culture of the Bible
is no exception to circle drawing. In the society of Jesus' day marking in-groups
and out-groups was important. The circles were much tighter then, the lines
much thicker, and less permeable. Circles divided Jews from Gentiles, Judeans
from Galileans, clans and families from one another, pure from impure, sinners
from righteous, followers of one Rabbi from those of another. Loyalty to those
in your circle was a serious responsibility, not to be taken lightly.
From behind this cultural curtain steps John,
the Circle-Drawer. John walks up to Jesus and says, "Rabbi, we saw this
guy casting demons out of people. He was using your name to do it. We couldn't
have him doing that in your name. He wasn't following us. So, we put a halt to
that heretical nonsense." In other words, that exorcist wasn't
"legitimate." The way John put it the problem was not because he
wasn't following Jesus, but because he wasn't following the disciples. He
wasn't part of their in-group; their inner circle. And, you know, it's critical
to know who's in and who's out. Boundaries and circles can be a good thing
unless they are not permeable, have no place for entry or exit for others, or
cannot expand or be redrawn. John saw the circle of Jesus and his followers as
a rather tight circle with little room for those who did not fit their circle’s
protocol.
The history of the church follows in the
heritage of John, the Circle-drawer. Just let your fingers do the walking
through the Yellow Pages and what do you find? An endless list of circles;
denominations and divisions in the one Body of Christ: Catholics, Greek
Orthodox, Episcopalians, Methodists, African Methodist Episcopal,
Presbyterians, Lutherans, Mennonites, Brethren in Christ, Church of the
Brethren, Amish, Nazarene, Four Square Gospel, Full Gospel, Pentecostal,
Assemblies of God, Church of God, Church of Christ, Church of God in Christ,
United Church of Christ, and more varieties of Baptists than Heinz has pickles!
We need denominations to help us define who's a part of our group, who's with
us and who isn't. But, then we draw even smaller and tighter circles. There are
not just Methodists, but particular kinds of Methodists. There are not simply
Mennonites, but particular brands of more liberal or conservative Mennonites.
And sometimes these circles become exclusive clubs. Folks, the church has had a
bad case of John's temperament. We need to ever more clearly define who's in
and who's out, who's for us and who's against us to such a degree that our
circles can become nooses.
Could it be our tight circle drawing makes us
feel like we're in control? No one likes to feel like things are chaotic and
out of control. Circles, boundaries, and group identity markers help us gain a
sense of control. By drawing circles we
control who's in and who's out. Without circles to identify where we belong? We
would be confused about our identity. We need to know who the “liberals” are
and who the "conservatives" are, who the gays and who the straights
are, and who the Democrats and the Republicans are. Circles help us keep from
being identified with "them" over there. Some of us delight in putting
people in labeled boxes, or identifiable circles. But that doesn’t always work.
I don’t think it works for me. Am I a liberal? Well, yes, and no. Am I a
Mennonite? Of course, but not in some ways. Am I a minister? Seems obvious, but
in many ways I don’t fit well in those circles. You see, some of us don’t
always fit so neatly into the circles other want to fit us in. Fitting
ourselves or others into certain circles may make us or our group feel more
secure. It can even make us feel like we're in control of things.
Our circle drawing can also become a means of
trying to control others by monopolizing power, material goods, and even God's
Spirit. In other words, we define those people outside our circle as illegitimate,
illegal, unauthorized, unofficial, and even un-godly. That's what happened in
the story of Moses when the Spirit fell not only on the elders around the tent,
but also upon Eldad and Medad, who prophesied along with the best of them out
in the camp. In a tone of voice very
similar to John's, Joshua said to Moses, "Stop them! They aren't
legitimate prophets. They are not within the circle. They don't have our
official stamp of approval."
We want to orchestrate the movement of the
Spirit, become power-brokers of the divine, and have a monopoly on grace. When
we seek to draw our Christian circles too tight we're really trying to control
God's wild Spirit. In essence we're saying: "This is our show, God. We'll
say what your work is and what it isn't, what's legitimate and what isn't.
We'll define who's in and who's out, who's for us and who's against us. And by
the way, God, you know those charismatics? I have a hard time identifying with them.
They’re a bunch of emotional kooks. What they call "the movement of the
Spirit" is just getting themselves all worked up into a lather. It's
staged. No matter how much they lift their hands in the air and say the name of
"Jeeeeeeeezus!" that's not your Spirit. Since they're not one of us,
they ought to stop that nonsense."
Can't you hear the circles being drawn? Oh, if only God would pour the
Spirit out on all people! Who can control
the wind? Who can monopolize God's power? Who can encompass the perimeter of the
Spirit? We may try. Probably because we need to feel like we're in control.
That's about the time Jesus comes along and
blows our circles wide open. He perforates, breaks open, erases, and redraws
our airtight circles. When John wanted to stop the maverick exorcist, Jesus
said, "Don't stop the guy. Nobody whose liberatin' people in my name is
gonna say bad things about me. You know what. This is the gospel truth. Anyone who isn't against us is for us."
Wow! Kabloom! Jesus blows wide open our in-group/out-group mentality. He throws
into question our circle drawing that seeks to identify who's for us and who's
against us. Jesus is being extremely tolerant. His circle is open. Dare we call
him "liberal?" No. That would
just draw a tight circle around him.
Jesus refuses to live within the cramped
circles and impenetrable barriers we erect. He contests the practice of
confining God's liberating, healing, and transforming action to a particular
group, gender, religious institution, or political perspective. What? Do you
mean that God is not a Republican or a Democrat? Jesus challenges his followers
to see God's reign outside their own constricted spheres. We see Jesus' open
circle in his conversation with a Samaritan woman at a well, his healing of the
servant of a Roman centurion (Israel's oppressors), his dining with
tax-collectors and sinners, his welcoming of children, his touching lepers, his
defying the hoops drawn around race, gender, age, occupation, and the
"pure." Jesus redraws our circles when he raises questions like: Who
are my friends? Who are my enemies? Who are my brothers and sisters, and
mother? Who's greatest in the kingdom of God? Who's first and who's last? Who
is my neighbor? I hear the inclusive spirit of Jesus playing in the words of this
poem, a favorite of John Oyer I hear :
He
drew a circle that
shut
me out---
heretic,
rebel, a thing to flout,
but
love and I had the wit to win
we
drew a circle that took him in
We draw circles that keep people out. Then,
Jesus comes along and redraws our compressed circles. Jesus’s love draws
circles that include people.
That's probably because Jesus knew God works
outside our narrow circles. God is bigger than our tiny circles. We can't draw
a circle big enough to contain God. God needs a lot of space to work! That's
because God is boundless. God can't be squeezed into our closed circles of
time, space, knowledge, and language. God transcends all human categories. God
bursts out of our confined circles. We worship an infinite God who cannot be
carried around in our pockets, in our heads, in our Bibles, in our
denominations, or even within our Christian faith. God is alive and active
outside our confined human categories and classifications, boxes and
boundaries. The Spirit of God is healing, liberating, transforming, and
recreating people outside our circles. God's presence and liberating acts are
unbounded by our human circles.
The
work of our unlimited God cannot be confined to our particular in-group. As a
matter of fact, if our circles are too narrow, we may exclude God. Once a
sinner was excommunicated and forbidden entry into a small church. He took his
woes to God. "They won't let me in their circle, God, because I am a
sinner." "What are you complaining about?" said God. "They
won't let me in either!" I've wondered whether the Father, in the story of
the prodigal son, ran to meet his wayward child with arms formed in an open
circle. We cannot contain God's love and action within the narrow constraints
of our closed circles.
The church needs to have her eyes forever
looking outside her circles, for those who have been excluded and left out of
her circles. Even more so, we need to keep our hearts peeled for the Christ
outside our circles present in the thirsty, hungry, naked, imprisoned,
forgotten and forsaken. We need to keep our hearts peeled for the Spirit
outside our circles working miracles among those not in our in-group. We need
to keep our hearts peeled for the God outside our circles dancing on the edges of
eternity!
We watched earlier a slideshow of a Bridging
Cultures beach trip. Bridging Cultures is a good example of the church drawing
its circle ever wider to include others normally outside our circles of
association. For God is outside our circles drawing us into more expansive
circles. Where can we begin to draw our circle wider to be more inclusive of
others?
I woke up in bed one morning with an unusual
word stuck like a splinter in my morning mind: perichoresis; a rather odd word. I don't know how it got there. I
dug it out and looked it up. It's a Greek word whose root denotes continued
circular movement, like that of a spinning wheel. A related word is perichoreuo, which means to "dance
in a ring or circle." The word perichoresis
was used in the early centuries of the Eastern Church to describe the
intertwining, encircling movement of the persons of the Trinity. This word
stirs up a wonderful image in my imagination. It's a mystic vision of the new
heaven and new earth that is to come; an undivided community, a united humanity;
a time when all human circles have faded into the boundless circle of God.
a heavenly whirling dervish,
who has been extending a hand to the
world
throughout the ages
to lead all creation in a celestial
folk dance in the round.
God is inviting us all to join the
circle dance.
We're being called to twist and
twirl,
to follow the lead of God's light
feet,
turning and turning and ever turning
in a never ending,
inclusive circle of God's joyful,
life-giving movement
across the floor of time.
Oh, to be caught up in the Spirit's
swing and swirl
until all dividing circles disappear
and we fall dizzy
into the encircling embrace of God!
Hallelujah!
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