Week 5 | The Great Communion | Pre-Conference Devotionals
Allowing the love and light of others into our lives is hard. Even though we live in a lonely world, and one in which we often desperately need connection to other people, the actual act of bringing people into our life can be messy. Much like pouring ingredients into a mixing bowl, however, the choice to let others in is worth the result.
1 Corinthians has almost become a cliché when it comes to describing love between people. Attend a wedding in the last year, and it is more than likely that you’ve heard 1 Corinthians 13:7 repeated as it has been time and time again: Love “always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” While the romance of the poetry does lend itself well to the concept of a loving marriage, it also speaks more deeply to the human context of relationship–certainly, the types of relationships that we yearn for as queer people.
Bear, believe, hope, endure; these are amazing and important aspirations that Paul delivered to the Corinthians, and they represent what he hoped the people of Corinth might be willing to do together, which was to co-create a community that we call the Church. Paul knew that this idea of a Church in the first century would be an odd one, not because people were not already familiar with the intimacy of community, but Jesus had introduced a new concept of connection to God; so the old ways of doing community, of one-way creation, would no longer serve.
In this way the poetry of 1 Corinthians is meant to inspire those who read or hear it to take on the characteristics of love described, instead of passively waiting for them to be demonstrated. In other words, we are meant to pursue opportunities to co-create in community so that we can bear all things, believe all things, endure all things. What a challenge to the ancient Corinthians and to us!
We live in a time of intense isolation. Our communities, work, even families are pressured to live in a design of community that keeps us from intimacy and vulnerability with one another. Although we may know terabytes of data about each other, we rarely have the opportunity to know what that data means for the other person; thus, we are left to our perspective or the analysis of a third party to define that meaning for us. And, boy, do we get it wrong.
Countless studies on what is referred to as “unconscious bias” demonstrate that we tend to avoid facts for feelings. Even when presented with cold, hard data, we will still default to accept only the information that confirms what we already believe or feel. This is especially true of our human-to-human interactions. As a result, we make knee-jerk assumptions about other individuals, and more globally, we avoid living in community, especially with anyone different than ourselves. So, our neighborhoods and churches become monotone and flavorless because of our inability to take risks to do what Paul teaches, which is to be with each other, to co-create, and to love each other with an intentionality of purpose and unconditionality.
Bland coexistence is not what God wants for us. Relational Justice, or the concept of relationship forged in decisive efforts to stay connected, is what Paul had in mind in 1 Corinthians, and is the premise for how Jesus lived and described relationship throughout his ministry. Think about it. Was there ever a moment where Jesus was described as casually coexisting in relationship to the people that he encountered? No, of course not! He met people with a passion that sometimes scared them.
That is a just way of pursuing relationship by seeing people with such empathy and compassion that our response to each other–our acceptance and comradery–is so apparent that it is unmistakable by anyone who might see it. Just envisioning such a way of doing community with each other gives me goosebumps. And here is one thought: The queer community (the LGBTQIA+ community for those so inclined) is perfectly suited to live in such relational justice because of where we have been and what we experience commonly around our faith and identity.
It was not that long ago that being “queer” was illegal in the United States, as it still is in some countries today. But the queer community wanted something more, we wanted relationship with the wider world that reflected our values and desires for connection. We wanted relational justice, and rather than waiting on the world to realize justice for us, we pursued it. First, as a call for liberation at Stonewall over 50 years ago, then organizing ourselves in a manner that bore with each other and our oppressors, that believed in the cause of equity and equality, that gave hope to the marginalized, and that was able to endure the intense hatred and violence of change. And, while relational justice has not yet reached its peak, we do live in a much more tolerant culture, and certainly one that includes spaces that respect and co-create with us, as we continue to determine liberation in the intersections of our expanding identities.
This openness, this complexity is exactly what Paul had in mind when he encouraged the Corinthians to find and foster love within their community. He knew that if he could just get them to see the inherent call of God to see each other through the eyes of love, instead of the eyes of power, difference, or discrimination, then they would be one step closer to understanding the Kingdom of God on Earth. What if the queer community is just that, an example of the Kingdom of God on Earth, but we are just too unwilling or afraid to pursue it together?
It is a worthwhile question. And, while we wait on culture to respond, we need to continue to practice relational justice with each other by maintaining the elements of justice with each other, which are showing mercy, demonstrating grace, giving empathy, defending our brothers and sisters, and accepting.
difference unconditionally. Surely, these acts of love are who we are, and who we are will certainly continue to change the world for the better. May it be so. Amen.
Identify someone in your life with whom you used to be in relationship, but because of interpersonal conflict you no longer feel a connection. Do you still love this person? How are the values of 1 Corinthians being lived out between you? If you could meet with this person in a neutral environment/safely, what would be your act of love?
Why do you think that it’s so cliche’ to depend on the wisdom of Paul in Corinthians during a wedding, but no so easy in the routine of life?
What does it mean to love? What does it mean to love someone adverse to you? What does it mean to love someone different than you? Draw a picture on a piece of scrap paper about what love means to you.
If you were given $2 million today and told that you were to use the money to help co-create love in the world, what would you do?
