Missing Voices in the Church

“Too many potential leaders in our church are excluded because people who already have power and access to money, technology, and education enjoy the privileges not available to all of us. We are a great and diverse body gathered here today, but I know—we all know—that too many voices are still missing. Too few of us gathered here today are poor, or young or people of color. In our idealistic yet imperfect polity, too many voices remain unheard in the councils of the church.” Bonnie Anderson

While I was not able to attend, I have been keeping up on the Episcopal General Convention in Indianapolis this week. There is a lot of talk about money and budgets this year; unsurprisingly, given the current state of the economy. The words that have struck me most so far are from the opening address given by the outgoing president of the House of Deputies, Bonnie Anderson, quoted above.

She openly states that the Episcopal Church, as much as we might talk about social justice, has a long way to go when it comes to inclusivity or openness when it comes to race and class. I am more and more aware of who is left out because they do not have the language—or as Bonnie points out-- the “money, technology, or education” to be included.

“Too few of us here today are poor…” Bonnie notes. It is an important point and deserves a great deal of thought, I believe. The Episcopal Church, like most mainline churches, talks about poverty, domestic and foreign, and donates a good deal of money to try to help end it. We support political measures that could mitigate poverty and we run soup kitchens, open our basements for shelter, extend the use of our showers, and do many other admirable works of mercy. And all of this is very important. Working on the Boston streets taught me how deeply people on the streets relied on the food and shelter offered by local churches.

But is this important work enough? I learned something else on the streets of Boston. My homeless friends did not just need help; they had a tremendous amount of wisdom and faith to give. In a basement Eucharist in the Episcopal cathedral, week after week, I heard people from the streets give sermons and lead services. What I learned there, I will never forget. Born out of deep suffering and life experience, people knew God, experienced God, doubted God, cried out to God. Never before had I experienced such power in worship. I am not joking when I say I heard the best sermons in my life in that basement.

It is not surprising that those who live on the edge often live closest to Jesus of Nazareth, the prophet with nowhere to lay his head. But would we really want to listen to him if we met him today—dirty, ragged, poor, and perhaps a little, well you know… crazy? In not hearing, however, in creating spaces and churches that have no room for the poor except as objects of pity and charity, we have lost this wisdom.

So why are there not more leaders and active participants in our churches who are poor? I think of a dear friend of mine who happens to be homeless just delivered a beautiful sermon at the Boston cathedral. Several others sit on vestry. And lets not forget the powerful work done by peasant lay leaders in Latin America in Christian Base Communities.

The so called poor sometimes do not walk into our churches because they know they are not welcome—they do not have the right clothes, know the right words, eat the right food, or drive the right cars.

But make no mistake, there have always been notable exceptions and our tradition is steeped in the traditions of a rural, agrarian society. I know and have been honored to work with many of these. A Purepecha congregation run by lay leaders who are part of their community. Several Boston homeless congregations where members of the community take a lead in organizing events, preaching, fundraising, planning services, and leading groups. These examples give me hope.   

So, as we talk of money and budgets and social issues, let us also be aware of what we are not hearing and whose voices are not present. And let us seek out those voices, pray to hear those voices, work to open space in our churches for those voices. The so called poor do not simply need our help. We need—desperately need—their wisdom.