CHALLENGES and GIFTS OF COMMUNITY AT CANDLER
OrientationMary Elizabeth Moore
31 August 2001
Why community? The valuing of community runs deep in Jewish and Christian traditions,
as in most religious traditions of the world. Genesis 1:26-28 reads: "Then
God said, 'Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness
. . .' So God created humankind in God's image, . . . male and female God
created them" (NRSV, emphases added). Consider also the Lord's Prayer.
The first word is "our." I pray this prayer several times a day-sometimes
praying "Our Father," "Our Mother," or "Our Creator"-but
often lingering over the "our." Roman Catholics even call this
prayer the "Our Father."
Why community? The importance of community also runs deep in the human psyche.
I have been at Candler two years, but I remember as if it were yesterday the
first time a student greeted me with a smile, recognizing me as someone familiar.
That was the moment I began to feel that I belonged here. Community is clearly
a significant value, but to reflect more deeply on why it is important, I will
share four vignettes from the summer.
Breaking down Barriers
A colleague told me about a course he taught this summer (at an unnamed seminary).
The students were a bit resistant, and he asked them why. Two students finally
confessed that they did not want to be there. They were simply trying to get
their credentials, and they hoped that theological education would not teach
them anything. They were especially nervous that their theologies might be
upset or altered. What was apparently happening was that the students were
resisting community life for fear that the community would change them. These
students seemed to know at some level that the first gift and challenge of
community is to break down barriers and transform our lives. That can be frightening.
Opening to Receive from Others
The second story is really a series of small conversations with my Taiwanese
neighbor. The first conversation was last spring when I walked over for a front
yard chat. We had talked only a few times before, but she began telling me
of her husband's heart trouble and her recent illness. She talked of their
hard work and she worried about the toll it was taking on them. She said she
wanted to close their business and rest, but she did not know if that was possible.
All of this was spoken in broken English (which was far better than my Taiwanese).
The second scene was in early summer when my neighbor's daughter was visiting.
I walked over to greet the daughter and granddaughter. We visited for a few
minutes, and the granddaughter chattered away about what she was doing with
her grandmother. The third scene was last week when our neighbor knocked on
the front door to tell us that our sprinkler was flooding. She and I traipsed
around in our two muddy yards trying to find the source of the problem.
This is really not a story in the classic sense, but it is the story of a growing
friendship, patched together with conversations here and there, now and then.
It is patched together with only modest cross-cultural knowledge. But it makes
a difference. Every time I meet my neighbor, I receive a gift. The very fact
that we cannot communicate without effort means that we mostly talk about important
things like life and death, or delightful things like grandchildren, or practical
things like broken sprinklers. This is a second gift and challenge of community:
to meet others, even in our clumsiness, in order to give and receive the blessings
of humanness.
Creating a Counter-Culture
In my annual conference this summer, a group of us gathered in a room late
at night to discuss our different views on a resolution before the conference.
The resolution had to do with the church's welcoming of all persons, both in
relation to race and homosexuality and in relation to how we do the business
of the church. The resolution mixed all of these matters into one statement,
and a motley group of people with divided opinions met to discuss what to do.
The hour was late; the outcome was hazy, but we finally decided the next day,
after further deliberation, to divide the resolution. A small group of us worked
on revisions during every break and late into the following night.
When our drafting team completed the work, one gay man said to me, "I
can't believe what is happening in our conference; we are really moving toward
greater respect and openness." I want you to know that there were some
flaws in this process, but I will not elaborate them here. What is important
in the short version of the story is that the two resolutions (formerly one
resolution) emerged from prayer and honest dialogue and were presented to the
floor of the conference the next day. They both passed overwhelmingly, with
people of all theological views feeling basically good about the process and
the outcome. I share this as a third challenge and gift of community-to create
a counter-culture that represents a new way to be community and do business,
foreshadowing God's new creation. Gathering Stones to Build a Better World
I heard two presentations this summer by Elias Chacour-one when he was awarded
an honorary degree at Emory and one when he spoke in Israel, describing the
plight of Palestinian children. In both, Chacour spoke loudly and boldly about
the devastation of Palestinians who are not allowed to travel in their own
land, who are squeezed economically, who are pressed militarily (losing more
than 600 lives in the past 11 months), and who are losing hope. But this is
the same man who sponsors a school where Palestinian and Israeli children learn
together, building relationships that promise to nourish a just peace in their
land. Chacour concluded his presentation in Israel saying that throwing stones
has caused nothing but devastation. He described his dream of a world where
Jewish, Christian, and Muslim children-Israeli and Palestinian children-will
walk together, gathering stones to rebuild their communities. This is a fourth
challenge and gift of community-to gather up the stones of war and contribute
in our own small way to building a better world.
When we speak of building community at Candler, we are not simply talking about
something that will make us feel good. We hope it does enrich our lives, but
the stakes are much higher than that. Community life at Candler will hopefully
contribute to a better world-a new creation for our children and grandchildren.
The stakes are high. God created us for community-building and goodness-sharing:
In God's image, God created them.