On Change

Fall is my favorite time of year. For several weeks, each day carries with it an uncertainty. Is it still summer? Is it winter? The days are warm, the nights are cold. There might be frost in the morning, there might not. The temperatures fluctuate wildly. The weather is unsettled. The leaves turn brilliant colors. Every day something is different. Fall is the icon of the inevitablility of change.

Change in the seasons can unsettle us as much as any other kind of change in life. Though we handle some changes better than others, we do not generally weather changes well. Change affects each of us differently and to greater or lesser degrees, but we are all affected by change. How we deal with change determines whether we grow or stagnate.

As human beings, we need certainty in our lives. We need to know the sun is going to come up every day. We need to know there will be food on the table. We need to know a paycheck is coming in. We need to know things will be as we have always expected them to be. Ironically, we also need variety. We need change. We need a fresh idea now and then to spice things up, to give us a new perspective. Life is an endless balancing act between certainty and variety - how much will we explore something different, versus how tenaciously will we hang on to the status quo?

This dynamic resides in the church, too. The reactions to change seem to be more sensitive than in other contexts, though. Perhaps it is because the church is expected, more than any other institution to be consistent - always constant, never unsettling. It is the place we go to find peace and comfort, and we will resist all attempts to make it otherwise. As long as the church remains the same, on our terms, we can handle everything else.

The end result, however, of the human need for certainty taken to the extreme is polarization. Polarization causes us to set up boundaries to protect an ideological comfort zone. The problem with polarities is that the longer we try to hold on to a core idea, the tighter our boundaries become until we are squeezed into a corner and begin to see every contrary opinion as a major threat to our being. What we fail to realize is that change is constant - it keeps us off balance but keeps us moving. When we refuse to move, we get run over.

Polarities in the church - particularly in the Episcopal Church - lead to death. The Anglican Church was founded on the doctrine of the via media - the middle way - a doctrine which has served the church well for centuries but comes under fire by conservatives and liberals alike. It seems ambiguous - even wishy-washy. The doctrine of the via media doesn’t take a stand on anything, they say. Correct and incorrect.

I’ve said that living in a polarized state causes us to construct ever narrowing boundaries around our position until we find it less and less safe to consider other positions. The thing to remember about polarities is that they can never be resolved, no matter how hard we try. The brilliance of the middle way is that it is at home in the overlap between the poles of opposing positions - that place where there is, ironically, a flicker of agreement, where two opposing forces can find a forum for discussion. It is a terrifying place, indeed. It is the zone of ambiguity, where nothing seems as it should be, things are unrecognizable, things don’t make sense. It is messy all the time. But it is the place where both sides can glimpse the other and compare notes with some civility. Both sides can have their say intellectually and, ironically, it is the place where fear is minimized. It is the place where at worst we agree to disagree; at best we come to some new insight which moves us to a different place and causes us to grow a little. It is always the place, however, where, if we are willing to sojourn for a time, we will find the ability to talk and pray together even though we disagree. It is the place which gives life to this church, and to us, if we let it. It is the place where we can acknowledge our differences and come to believe that God sees those differences too. He created us that way. God encourages the differences and wants us to talk about them, but most of all, wants us to be together. The church is not a comfortable place, if it is truly being the church. It is the place where the hard issue of justice must be argued. It is the place which forces us out of our comfort zones to see a world around us which needs our attention.

"Well, God never changes," you say, and therefore, the church should not, either. The statement is based upon the premise that we can know the mind of God. The truth is that we can’t completely know the mind of God. God’s truth and being are broader and deeper than we can ever begin to conceive. Standing in the middle way, in the messy parts, allows us to sense the enormity of that with which we struggle. It is the place where we can come to a new understanding of the God who never changes. It is a place where the veil can part briefly and allow us a view of God, which, while not complete, gives us a new insight as to what God is calling us to be and to do. The middle way - the Messy Way - the way of what seems to be ambiguous, is the place where God is waiting to show us a Better Way. But we must endure the pain of opening up to something different, something dangerously threatening. We can take heart in knowing that all through history, humans have initially reacted to the revelations of God with fear and trembling. But God’s first words to us, when we find ourselves before her, are simple and comforting: "Fear not." That which we fear is loss. Loss of a way we have come to know and cherish. That which we are to find, however, is a new way, closer to God’s way, and a way to peace. Let us cast off fear and trust that God will not steer us off the course, though the course may not be the one we have set for ourselves. Above all, let us pray together and be together in agreement or disagreement, as the loved and much desired Children of the Most High God.

7:56:35 PM
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