As our baby turned three months, she has developed a habit while nursing of clinging to something, anything that she could hold onto: the collar of a shirt, the string of a hoodie, a lock of hair, an available finger. Her grip is strong and fierce as she holds on. Our three-year-old in preparing to go to bed tucks his stuffed dog under his arm clinging tightly to the safety of his lovey as he drifts off to sleep.
As adults, the way we cling to safety is a bit less visible. Instead of clinging to an object, we cling to patterns and routines, even furniture set up. I have found this especially true in places of worship. To be certain, coming into a community of faith is asking and inviting the Divine to reveal our most vulnerable places and our deepest wounds, so it follows that in those revelations, so too would our instinct to cling to something safe and comfortable arise.
Business meetings that discuss carpet color or paint color are much like our three month old’s grip tight and fierce not because we truly want to keep the carpet from 50 years ago the same or that we can’t see the paint that’s chipping and needs to be replaced, but rather because we need to be assured that we are safe. We need to be assured that even if the paint and carpet of the church changes, this will still be a place of sanctuary for us.
As we hear about places of worship being invaded with death and violence, this is of the utmost importance. Although we may concentrate on the physical safety of the building and those who have gathered, may we not forget the spiritual and emotional need for reassurance that rest in our hearts and souls as we hear the news. May we offer something deep, hope-filled, and so authentic that those searching may cling to. When we offer this soul-filling type of worship and teaching, we can be sure that those gathered won’t need to cling to paint or carpet colors.
Perhaps the hardest words that Jesus speaks to his disciples in the gospel of John are:
Do not cling to me because I have yet to ascend to the Father.
As much as we want to cling to the safety of what we already know and how things have always been, we have to let go of the Risen Christ so that the Spirit of God can come in all its Mystery. In order to allow the Spirit of God to work, we have to let go of the very things we hold so tightly. We have to let the Spirit of God move and change and transform. Only then we will truly see the kingdom of God here on earth.