When I made my first visit to China in the 1990s, a group of friends gathered around me in support. Since then, that group has grown both in number and encouragement. Their greatest support has come as they’ve opened their circles to include my students, colleagues, and friends. My home family has welcomed my adopted one. They speak of them as if they know them personally. They love them. Again and again, they’ve faithfully gone to their knees to stand in the gap for my adopted family.

“How beautiful it is,” Jesus might say, “when across physical, cultural, and spiritual divides, humans exist together in harmony.”

During the years that my home family has opened their circles to people across the ocean, I’ve witnessed a closing of the ranks among the American church. I’m not sure when and where this retreating from the world began, but I’ve seen the infection spreading, including in myself. So, let’s start there.

Over a number of visits to her country, I developed a relationship with a lovely woman from India. In one of our conversations, she mentioned a novel that was making waves among American Christians. When she asked if I’d read it, I self-righteously explained that I preferred to fill my mind with more uplifting content.

“Emery,” she said with deep sincerity, “how can you tell the world the truth if you don’t understand their lies?” I went home and read the book and since then have perused a wide range of books, news sources, movies, and other media. And just as my friend predicted, I’ve had opportunities to speak truth—gently, I hope—into the world’s lies. My exposure to the world has opened doors to connection and better conversations as well as to understanding and empathy.

From my view across the ocean, I’ve observed the American church and have seen a growing family compound mentality. As I have mourned our corporate sin, I’ve wondered. Are we open to people who think, act, believe, and look differently than we do but only when they’re across an ocean? When the world moves into our neighborhoods as has happened in many communities across the U.S., are they welcome? Instead of reaching out, we’re sending them away. Our message seems to be, “Go away, you who are weary and burdened. Forge your own path. Find your own way. There’s no room in our ranks for you.”

When citizens of our own country act like the “world,” we also seem to close ranks, affronted by their behavior. We expect them to act like saints when we who are under the blood of Jesus fail miserably to live up to His mercy. We fail to see the hearts and souls behind their life choices, dehumanizing and also at times demonizing them. Instead of fighting the battle against sin (mostly our own), we treat them as the enemy. Instead of helping, we deepen their hurt.

Does Jesus look on the family compound mentality of the American church today and weep over beautiful opportunities for harmony lost? Does He see us closing ranks and wonder if we need an English lesson on prepositions? He sent us INTO the world. No, we do not belong to it, but we do live IN it like yeast that permeates every part of the dough, and like bread fresh from the oven, wafting everywhere His appealing aroma.

Living across an ocean from my home country has taught me an important lesson. If I humble myself and work at it with all my heart, I can both abide in Jesus while also dwelling in the world, embracing its rich array of human beings who were all created in His image whether they acknowledge their origins or not. Though I have pushed people away, sometimes just because they’re different, I’d much rather be an echo of Jesus’ voice crying, “Come, all who are burdened, and find rest for your weary souls.”

Wouldn’t you?

---

Image by Thanks for your recognition from Pixabay