In keeping the pulse of our congregation, we’ve been asking for input from folks about their plans, needs, and concerns regarding worship at St. Patrick during this pandemic. Though philosophical convictions are only a part of why people are making the decisions they are, I’ve been amazed at how diverse those views are among our congregants. All over the map! Part of this, I think, is that the information age allows people who live in relatively close quarters to be influenced by (and even insulated within) a wider array of ideologies than ever before. But another significant part of it is, I am certain, that there is just a glorious diversity of persons in fellowship with each other at St. Patrick. Far from being discouraged by the dissimilar views represented in our surveys, I’ve been so, so grateful. We have doubled down here on the idea that in the church community is family, and that means that our connection is deeper than identity politics.

And so, I was particularly encouraged when I came across this paragraph by the inimitable G.K. Chesterton, who, as usual, puts the case clearly and bluntly:

[The Family] “is, as the sentimentalists say, like a little kingdom, and, like most other little kingdoms, is generally in a state of something resembling anarchy. It is exactly because our brother George is not interested in our religious difficulties, but is interested in the Trocadero Restaurant, that the family has some of the bracing qualities of the commonwealth. It is precisely because our uncle Henry does not approve of the theatrical ambitions of our sister Sarah that the family is like humanity. The men and women who, for good reasons and bad, revolt against the family, are, for good reasons and bad, simply revolting against mankind. Aunt Elizabeth is unreasonable, like mankind. Papa is excitable, like mankind. Our youngest brother is mischievous, like mankind. Grandpapa is stupid, like the world; he is old, like the world.” - G.K. Chesterton, In Defense of Sanity

It is actually a good thing that we are a commonwealth of dissimilar persons united by the bond of Christ’s Spirit. If we were united because we were so similar, how would we be any different from this partisan and tribalistic world? But if the blood of the covenant is thicker than the waters of birth, and I suspect it is, then we can hold on even where others break fellowship. Our work, then, is not to agree so much as it is to remain bound to one another in a spirit of love and charity. And I’m proud of the posture I’ve seen from so many folks. People who are convinced that it is foolish to leave the house are genuinely praying for the wellbeing of those who do so freely and often. Individuals who feel ridiculous wearing a mask are putting them to alleviate the anxieties of their siblings in Christ. That’s beautiful. That’s who we are.

I’m truly excited to begin a new series this weekend on the book of Daniel, called “Visions and Vessels.” It’s a book about faithful people in the midst of world upheaval and I doubt we’ll be very surprised at just how relevant it can be. So whether you plan to join the pilot group in person or remain where you are and connect with the cloud of witnesses via Livestream, I want to encourage you to remember those with whom you might disagree, who are tied to you, and lift them up in love this weekend. I won’t say “we’re in this together,” because the world can say that too. Instead, let me say, “We’re in Christ together” and let grace be everything. -josh