Vol. 17 No. 23 | June 9, 2014
As I sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor I could hear lively conversation and laughter on the other side of the door. A nurses station was only a few feet from the door of the exam room. I could hear them talking, but I could not understand anything they were saying. I could hear them laughing but I had no idea what they were laughing about. For a moment I imagined they were looking at my chart. Whatever the topic of their conversation, and whatever or whoever was the subject of their laughter, I was excluded. I was not privy to what they were talking and laughing about.
For a brief moment I was curious. At another time in my life it might have hurt my feelings. When the doctor came in I forgot about the group outside. After giving me a good health report and directing me to the check-out desk the doctor commented on what a good time the group at the nurses station was having. I left without knowing what they were talking about and not giving it much thought (except for the purpose of this article).
For me to be excluded from the conversation at the nurses station (and many other conversations) is not a big deal, however there is one time when I not want to be excluded or to exclude others: When God’s people are gathered.
There are those times when I wonder if our language — churchy language — may exclude our guests? When we talk about things we have known and experienced all our lives we may be excluding someone who has recently joined us. Our guests may feel like they are in one room listening to a muffled conversation in another room. We talk about sermons, songs, communion, and spirituality assuming everyone knows what we mean. They may not. We may assume they understand our insider comments, when to do what and how and why. They may not.
We talk about projects and special programs and upcoming events as if everyone knows the when, the where, and the why. They do not. They may wonder what it takes to become part of the “in” group.
We talk about salvation, redemption, restoration and revival in ways that may sound condescending to those who are searching for salvation, redemption, restoration and revival.
There is the possibility that our guests will leave our assemblies unconcerned about missing the message, feeling perfectly fine without knowing the inside jokes, and unaffected by missing the meaning. There is also the possibility that they won’t. Do we want to take that chance? Should we be making it so difficult?
What disturbs me even more than the fact that sometimes we exclude people by using our “part of the club” language, is that too often we do it with a sense of pride in our exclusivity.
Maybe we would do well to take the approach of some of the earliest Christians as described in Acts 15:19, “So here is my decision: We’re not going to unnecessarily burden non-Jewish people who turn to the Master” (The Message).
Let’s remove the walls, open the doors, tear down the barriers, and clean-up our language and stop our activity that would cause anyone to feel excluded, left out, or out of the loop. Let’s make it easier for people to turn to the Master.
Tom
© Copyright 2014 Tom Norvell. All rights reserved.