A loving, inclusive Christian church in Greenville, SC

Networks | February 15

Networks

Reflection by Matt King

I’m a Harry Potter fan, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m a “nut,” although there are certainly other areas of interest where that might be a perfect description of me. I don’t dress up in costume. Okay, there was one time when we needed a costume for a church trunk-or-treat event and my wife chose the costumes. I can’t say that I would have the highest score on the most obscure Harry Potter trivia, but I have read every book, seen every movie, and been to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. When I was younger I just found it fun to let go and imagine a different magical world. The beautiful thing was the way that world from the imagination of J.K. Rowling often seemed to convey deep truth.

One scene from the movie Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix came back to me recently. By the time the narrative reaches the moment that comes to mind, death has become a very real part of Harry’s life. Not only has he grow up without parents, because his were murdered by the Dark Lord Voldemort, but at the end of the previous book and movie he had witnessed the horrors of death with his own eyes. Though he has grown up in the spotlight, Harry has lived a very lonely life that often comes with fame, and his new understanding of the world only makes him feel more isolated.

In the scene that comes to mind, Harry is having a conversation with his friend, Luna Lovegood. Luna is a bit quirky. Her peers often look at her differently than they would others, but Luna doesn’t seem to mind. The two stand in the woods where Harry had gone to be alone, only to come upon Luna. Together they marvel at a friendly, though sinister looking and misunderstood, magical creature that is only visible to those who have seen death first-hand. Harry and Luna are commiserating over their experiences with friends and loved ones who have died, and Harry expresses that he often feels so alone, and as though no one truly understands what he’s going through. To which Luna, reflecting on the ongoing battle between Harry and Lord Voldermort, responds, “Well, if I were You-Know-Who, I’d want you to feel cut off from everyone else. Because if it’s just you alone, you’re not as much of a threat.”

The truth spoken in that moment in the narrative is that isolation can often be one of the most powerful weapons any force of evil could wield against us. When we are alone and feel cut off from everyone else, we may feel the most vulnerable and afraid. We may feel helpless, and as if we do not have the strength to face the challenges before us. We may be tempted to give up, or give in, instead of to press on.

Perhaps this is why the Christian faith has always been a communal faith. As much as many of us who grew up in the evangelical traditions of the church were told that everything comes down to a personal relationship with Jesus, it was never just supposed to be me and Jesus alone. Jesus didn’t call one person to serve as his disciple. He called twelve to whom he would give his ministry, and he has always expected the number to keep growing and to encompass the whole world. When he sent his followers out into the cities and towns to teach, preach, and heal, he didn’t send them out alone. He sent them out in pairs so that when one felt weak and like he couldn’t carry the other would be there for support and accountability. For that same reason, while we can always have faith that Christ’s Spirit is with us and we are never truly alone, he said that his presence could be most clearly found where two or three are gathered in his name.

One of the most beautiful expressions of our faith is the fact that we gather in community as church. We come together for worship, study, and service. We come together for care and support. We come together because we know that we need fellow travelers on this journey to share our burdens. We cannot carry everything this life throws at us alone, and we were never meant to. So we shouldn’t try.

Sometimes we gather with other Christ-followers because we need the care. We need to know that we are not alone. Sometimes, however, we gather so that others will know that they are not alone. We go to them in times of grief and sorrow. We go to them because we know they would come to us. We go to them even when we may not know what they are carrying inside, but we know that we are called to show up for each other regardless so that we all know that there is someone else who is ready to listen and empathize the moment we are ready to share.

I had the chance to gather with colleagues in Atlanta at the beginning of this week for a meeting of the Board of Visitors at my seminary, as well as a series of preaching lectures by the great Barbara Brown Taylor. BBT was as good as ever, and the meeting was productive, but the business and the learning is only a miniscule part of why I go to these kinds of gatherings. They are an excuse really. I go to these gatherings to remember that I’m not alone. I go to gather in the same room with sisters and brothers in the ministry who are doing incredible work for God’s kingdom all over the world. I go to be inspired by their work, and to reclaim a sense of vigor for my own. I go to remember that any struggle that our church faces is the same struggle that another church is facing. I go to reconnect with a network of people that are all on the same mission, even if we are called to live it out in unique ways in unique contexts.

To take it to a broader level, on Tuesday I had the opportunity to be at a luncheon with Paul Baxley, the newly elected Executive Coordinator of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. If you don’t know, that is the network of churches with which our congregation most closely aligns for supporting mission work, ministry training, and churches around the world. In the course of his remarks on the future of CBF, Dr. Baxley spoke to the fact that our connections through the CBF network are so important because isolated churches are the most likely to die. The faith life and the mission of the church are simply facing too many obstacles for us to be isolated.

We need the other churches in this CBF network that continues to grow more beautifully diverse each year. I need the network of colleagues who understands what ministry is truly like in ways that no one else does. We all need networks of support and love that reflect the presence of Christ for us when we need it most and feel most alone. So who is in your network? Who can you call upon when you feel alone? How can you open yourself to being part of someone else’s network of love and support? Let’s work together so that our church is always there for those who need a network like ours.