Leaving Our Comfort Zone

Our Church: The Fruit of the Spirit
June 8, 2014
Honoring the Sabbath: A Practice for Our Time
July 13, 2014

Several year before I was called to Bradley Hills, much of my ministry involved working with youth and young adults.  I led Bible studies, put together youth Sunday services and ran retreats.  So I love the experience which our youth at BHPC had this past week of going on a mission trip to Ghost Ranch in New Mexico.  For most of the youth the geography, climate and work is out of their comfort zone. 

And that is good.  One of the most important parts of youth ministry is helping the young people to stretch and move outside the familiar.

One resource I appreciated when I did youth ministry was Dean Borgman’s book, “When Kumbaya Is Not Enough.”  Borgman writes that the key to youth ministry, the foundational step for the youth worker or for youth or really any Christian, is proper self-understanding.   One has to know oneself and know, what it is we like and don’t like, what we do well and not do well, what is in our past, where we came from, what our peer group is, what our dreams are – in order to stretch and grow.  Borgman concludes that there is a goal to our self-reflection, he writes, “If knowing ourselves does not lead us to serve others more effectively, then our study is in vain.”

He argues that the key is that our understanding and growing is not for its own sake, but to see how it is we can stretch to make a difference for others.  

That idea has always been at the heart of the Christian gospel.  It’s part of what Jesus means in Matthew 25 when he suggests that the reason we stretch is to serve those who are outside our comfort zone, the least fortunate people in society.  Because in doing so we are serving Christ. 

Jesus wanted faith to come alive for early Christians who he suggested were too often complacent with their lives and circumstances.

Now it should be no surprise that Borgman’s book about youth knowing themselves and stretching to serve is entitled, “When Kumbaya Is Not Enough.” Kumbaya has taken on cultural meaning, particularly for youth.  A Kumbaya moment is one where everything is alright and everyone is nurtured and happy where they are. 

It comes from the song Kumbaya which was big in the 60s and 70’s when groups like Peter Paul and Mary, the Weavers and Joan Baez recorded it. Many of us grew up singing it as youth. As a boy, I can remember sitting around camp fires at Scout or church weekends or at camp in Michigan kicking back and singing kumbaya with good friends. The idea of “sitting around singing kumbaya” has become a metaphor for agreement and idyllic conditions.

And yet, in reality, these “kumbaya” moments are the opposite of what the song really meant. The history of the song is that “Kumbaya” mispronounces an African America spiritual lyric.  As I have mentioned before the words as they were originally written were, “come by here.”  Far from looking to idyllic conditions, Kumbaya was written as a call on those who were ignoring injustice in the world, specifically in the rural south, to “come by here” and see the needs of the people.  It was written to encourage people from the north to get out of their comfort zones and see the challenges of people’s lives in Georgia and North Carolina in the 1920’s.  To come by here and experience the racial division and poverty in the Mississippi Delta during the Great Depression of the 1930’s, or the unjust conditions of the 60’s and then to do something about it. 

Kumbaya, as it was originally written and sung, was serious and powerful.  Not intended to create a sense of passive acquiescence or complacency, but to engage people in the reality of the lives of the poor.

I had a “come by here” moment a few years ago at a different kind of campground from the one’s I remember in Michigan ago.  On a very rainy night, I joined caseworkers from Bethesda Cares in going to several homeless camps in northern Montgomery County to interview residents there.

We focused on two camps located behind White Flint Mall, really walking distance from the Presbytery offices.  One camp was located in the woods behind a dental office and the other in the woods behind a railroad track and old car lot.  We walked down mud down paths to the tents and benches where residents congregated. 

I saw the clothes hanging from trees to dry, but becoming more wet from the rain.  There in the woods, we slipped as we walked.

I went to help Bethesda Cares caseworkers interview residents for their Vulnerability Index – a survey intended to determine which members of the community are most vulnerable to medical issues and, in the winter, environmental challenges like hypothermia.  We sat on benches or in the tents, lit by flashlights, and asked questions about medical history, employment, life and ways of living.   The residents know the people from Bethesda Cares and were happy to see us as we brought clean socks and some more lights.  We asked them questions about how they got to be homeless, how long they had been living there.  Some had been living in the same camp more than five years.

It was a different perspective from my previous experiences with the homeless in New Haven soup kitchens.  Or in Boston.

It’s amazing to talk with Sue Kirk, the head of Bethesda Cares, about the homeless in Bethesda.  Sue knows the population well and thanks to her I have gotten out of my comfort zone to know some: the man outside the parking lot on Bethesda Avenue, or the brilliant, bi-polar fellow who sleeps on the park bench on Wisconsin Ave.  

Things have gotten better in Bethesda; there has been a 50% reduction in homelessness in the last several years in Bethesda in part because of action from groups like our church which have supported change. 

At the North Montgomery County camps, where too many people remain, there is still great need. 

I was deeply moved by our conversations.  One man drinks a pint of hard alcohol a day.  One man, once a larger man, was down to fewer than 80 pounds and was wasting away in his tent from liver disease.  A girl who we interviewed was born in 1992.  She had three kids.  When we asked where they were she said with great sadness, “with my mother.”  Sadness that her addiction left her unable to care for her young children.

I had one man tell me that as a boy he wanted to be a preacher.  At least his mother wanted him to be a preacher.   He went to college for three years, now works at a gas station and every other Saturday night he uses the paycheck to buy a bag of powder cocaine.  He lived in the camp as a result.

Most of the residents lacked insurance and their medical care came from emergency rooms.  One man we interviewed had visited the ER seven times in the past month. 

The sound of the train, so near, loud and powerful it rattled the ground, raced by every 30 minutes.  It makes it hard to talk, let alone sleep. That experience was a strong one for me of getting out of my comfort zone.

Jennifer Haddox of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary writes, “Mission is not what we do for God, but what God is doing through us in the world.”  In many ways, the song Kumbaya is ultimately about the people asking God to come by here and help.

As the Bible omits much of Jesus’ childhood, scholars debate whether Jesus’ family was in the middle class in his day or poorer. We know his parents weren’t rich, that Jesus was uninterested in achieving economic status and that Jesus called disciples largely from common trades.  There is no doubt that Jesus was very concerned about the poor. There was little safety net in his day, and Jesus called those who would be fishers of people to concern for those who needed a net. 

In Matthew 25, Jesus said that when the Son of Man comes in his glory he will divide people on their response to the needy.  “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it . . .?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these . . . you did it to me.’”

At a time of too slow economic growth and high youth unemployment nationally and in many parts of the world, the poor in our area and beyond feel acute pressure.   According to the U.S. Census Bureau, America’s poverty rate is above 14%.  More than 46 million Americans are considered poor.   Our county has nearly 60K neighbors living under the federal poverty level, a large waiting list of families waiting for housing assistance, 1/3 of them with children. 

Each month people come to our church asking for money or for help to pay rent or utilities. We want to help, but we have limited resources.  We are trying to develop different resources to help them.

As summer begins, this may be a time for you to get out of your comfort zone.  To get to know yourself better by stretching yourself.  The reason we get to know ourselves is to move to levels of greater service.

A good friend shared a thought on the subject with me.  She wrote, “Every one of us has his or her own comfort zone.  The area where we know the rules.  Where we know our neighbors and how they think and feel, and we feel safe.  Moving outside of that zone is most often a scary prospect.  What if the “people out there” laugh at me?  What if they don’t like me? What if they are sick, or dirty, or scare me? So most of us never leave our comfort zone – we stay where we share our common beliefs, our common backgrounds, our common fears and aspirations.”

Our youth and adults who are at Ghost Ranch are stepping out of their comfort zones.  How will they change our congregation when they return?  How will that experience allow them to invite others in their and our comfort zones? 

Our commissioner to General Assembly of our national PCUSA denomination this week, Bonnie Holcomb, serves there on the Congregational Vitality Committee.   Most of the meetings during this past week have occurred in various meeting rooms.  But on Tuesday, the Committee sent its commissioners two-by-two into the streets of Detroit to get out of their comfort zones.  They were asked to pray about what or whom “God desires you to see.”  And to experience real life there.

The committee’s final work was an experiment in Missional Living —an initiative that the committee recommended the Assembly approve—which encourages all Presbyterians to reach out to those in their communities in service in the name of Christ.

When the commissioners returned two hours later they had stories to tell.  One went to a coffee shop and then a jewelry store.  “A 26-year-old woman from Liberia owned the store,” said one commissioner. “She was excited to talk with me about Detroit, how it is coming back.”

Another group had an encounter with a man named Mitch, who talked about how angry he was at God because his mother had died,” The commissioners told them they believed God had ordained their moment — “He was speechless,” one said.  “Then he grabbed my hand and kissed it.”

One said, “At one point, I began to feel like I was part of the most important committee at General Assembly,” Of all the discussions, the most important part was her getting out of her comfort zone.  I look forward to hearing Bonnie’s stories when she returns.

Jesus calls us to move out of our comfort zones, into the comfort zone of others, even and especially into that of “the least of these, our brothers and sisters.” It is harder, less comfortable, less safe to allow someone else to step into our comfort zone.  And to expand our zones by inviting others into our comfort zones.  It’s what makes a welcoming congregation. 

As Christians we need to look at the example of Jesus Christ who was constantly moving into the zones of the poor, the sick, the helpless.  How many times have we passed by a homeless person without saying hello?  Or have visited a veteran’s hospital and spoken to a stranger whose body was broken in conflict?  Or talked to a supermarket checkout person or a convenience store clerk or a taxi driver and asked them about themselves?

Or stretched ourselves to sit with someone who comes into the church looking for help and really talked with that person?

Jesus Christ was very direct and emphatic in his teachings.  He spoke mostly in the imperative.  He didn’t ask, as my friend joked, say for example, “Listen guys, if you aren’t too busy or have other stuff you need to do, would you like to follow me?”  He said, “Follow me.”

He gives us the same imperative to be with those in need.

Kumbaya Is Not Enough.  It is not enough to stay in our comfort zones as Christians.  As another friend put it, “it’s not enough for us to say “us for, no more, shut the door” either.  Borgman writes, “If knowing ourselves does not lead us to serve others more effectively, then our study is in vain.”

But it if does, then we will grow to be more like the one who said, “Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to Me.’

When Kumbaya becomes Come by Here, we see where the needs arise for our community and world.   When we expand or leave our comfort zones, we allow the needs to come by here, and we are transformed.

Then our Kumbaya moments are less about staying where we are.  They are about how we move forward in service to others.   How we grow.  How we become more like Christ.

May it be so.  Amen.