Elbow to Elbow
Loneliness.
At least a half a dozen people have mentioned it to me this week, directly or indirectly. Feeling disconnected, even at church. Especially at church. Not feeling “known.” Forlorn, even in the midst of a crowd. Or a relationship. Or a marriage.
Frederick Buechener writes (I know, I know, but this guy is fantastic), “To be lonely is to be aware of an emptiness that takes more than people to fill. It is to sense that something is missing which you cannot name.” The French philosopher Pascal called it “a God-shaped vacuum in every human soul.”
Although there are things we can do about loneliness (call friends, have a party, scroll through Facebook – but that may make you feel worse, just “get out there,”) I think that loneliness may be a spiritual issue and, as such, not always receptive to secular remedies. Maybe loneliness is a God-given condition to remind us that, ultimately, we need to keep moving, searching, and attempting to satisfy the hunger for more than the material.
Loneliness may make a full-blown attack at times of transition: a parent dies, a child leaves home, a friendship changes, a relationship breaks up, a job ends. However, sometimes it just appears, unbidden, and takes up residence for a while, no matter how well other things may be going in our lives.
Our faith has traditions and practices regarding loneliness. We regard the solitude that sometimes accompanies loneliness to be fertile ground for renewal and insight. However, our faith also requires us to practice community, that is to regularly engage with other people spiritually, and not only socially.
Not easy for some of us, I know.
Writer Brian McLaren reminds us of what we are to accomplish as Christians who come together regularly: “Help each other to sustain hope; offer mutual encouragement; stimulate each other to do good deeds. “Without these practices,” he says, “we would expect people of faith to become increasingly grim and apathetic – which is just what we all too often see, isn’t it?”
The leadership at St. John’s is beginning an organized attempt to think about these issues, especially how we engage each other on a regular basis around issues of support, growth and faith. Elbow to elbow. One gathering at a time.
Some of us have begun, as we sat at last night at five round tables with fellow parishioners and also with people from our “companion parish,” Holy Apostles. It was rewarding. It was hard work. It required patience. It provided an opportunity to tell part of our story and hear others. For some, this was easy. For others, not. Many of us left elated and, I would venture, all of us left feeling it was worth the time and the risk. It marked a new beginning that will, eventually, broaden in scope and form, and offer you all an invitation that you might seriously consider accepting.
We opened our gathering last night with words from the American poet, William Stafford, especially appropriate in our troubled country and world, where patterns of polarization, distrust and criticism rule the day, and yet we still have the power and obligation to speak our truth:
“If you don’t know the kind of person I am
And I don’t know the kind of person you are
A pattern that others made may prevail in the world
And following the wrong god home we may miss our star.”
See you in church.
Barbara
