Bridges, Barriers, or Bombs: Three Metaphors for Church / Community Relations

One of the critical questions the faith community needs to answer in this generation is “how will we define our relationship to those who are not part of our faith communities?”  It might be with those who do not attend our worship services—or anyone’s worship services.  It might be toward institutions like the local government, school system or a non-profit organization.  It might be with individuals who are “strangers” to us—people who also call Roanoke home, but live in a different part of town, or are somehow “different” from us.  Whichever the case, how will Roanoke churches define the relationships with those outside of the four walls of the church?

When I look at the world, I see three options currently vying for our collective imagination: bridges, barriers, and bombs.  If you give this issue a moment of thought, you can easily see examples of all three.

Bombs is the metaphor that makes the nightly news: the extremists’ car bomb on a roadside in Iraq; the bullet that murdered Martin Luther King, Jr. at a Memphis hotel; the arsonist’s torch burning churches in Texas.  The problem of those who use violence to relate to the world around them is a necessary challenge for our faith communities to confront.  Religious extremists count on the power of fear to control those around them; too many times they hope that the bombs they use carry the name of their God.

The metaphor of barriers is a second option for faith communities, and in some regards it is the prevailing metaphor of church-state relations in the United States.  The doctrine of “separation of church and state” seems to establish an impregnable barrier between the church and the communities around us.  Even though we walk the same streets and shop at the same stores, the barrier of law would seem to say that these two communities cannot—and perhaps ought not—come together for any purpose.

But might it be time for a new metaphor to capture our imagination?  We reject the metaphor of bombs outright; we understand the metaphor of barriers; but can we hope for something better?  Personally, I believe it is time for the churches in Roanoke to embrace the metaphor of bridges as we relate to those outside our church walls.

My hope in “bridges” comes from Jeremiah chapter 29, verse 7.  The Israelite people are in exile in Babylon and are sorely tempted to retreat within their walls and erect a barrier between them and everyone around them.  Everything is different from what they knew back in Jerusalem.  The language is unfamiliar, the culture is strange, the food is not nearly as good as it was at home.  Keeping to themselves, learning none of the local language and customs, and hoping that God takes them home soon were very real—and very safe—temptations.

But before they can finalize these plans, the prophet Jeremiah sends a message:

..seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

Loosely translated, God says, “Build bridges.  Like it or not, you are connected with the people around you.  Get up and get to work.”

Now, we’re not exactly in exile here.  By birth or by choice, Roanoke is our home.  But the message is no different.  We are connected to the people around us, and it is imperative that we get the tool box out of the workshop and build more bridges in this city.  Where might we start?  How about here…

• What will the faith community say to the fact that there are hungry children within a short drive of all of our churches?

• When the needs for future prison space is predicted based on the 3rd grade reading level of the community, what story will be told of Roanoke, VA?

• How can the churches support our schools, so that current economic challenges do not reverse recent educational progress?

• Do we consider the homeless persons who walk our streets our neighbors, with something important to add to the quality of our city?

I’m sure you could add many more examples to this list, each just as important.  I encourage you to take this article to a Sunday School class or prayer meeting and have the group add to the list.  Then ask God, “where should our church start building a bridge?”

We dare not be blind to the fact that Jeremiah’s message is correct.  We are more than a random collection of individuals who happen to call Roanoke home.  Our welfare as a community will be enhanced when all have opportunity to share in the common opportunities and possibilities of this time and place.

If you’re tired of hearing about car bombs on the news; if you’re anxious for something better than barriers between where you are and all the opportunities and needs you see around you, then start praying, and start building a bridge.  May more bridge builders arise in Roanoke!