Practicing what heaven will look like

I was reading a book this past week written by two Methodist pastors, about the upcoming General Conference and the ramifications thereof for the church. Two of the things that they said as far as their hopes for the church moving forward stood out to me and I’ve been thinking about them since.

They are hoping for “A place where Methodists live out their unity in diversity and get an opportunity to practice what heaven will look like.” They go on to say “If we want people in our family, we need to stop tolerating them and start welcoming them, or else they will decide for themselves that this family is not for them.”

“A place where Methodists live out their unity in diversity and get an opportunity to practice what heaven will look like.” Isn’t that what the church, whatever the denomination, is supposed to look like but often doesn’t?  The church should be the place where people feel most loved, most accepted, and most valued. Instead it’s often the place where they feel that the least. The church should be the place where the spirit of God is so strong that it’s a tangible thing that you can literally feel. Sadly there are times it’s where that is felt the least. The church should be the place that most closely looks like what heaven will look like. It often looks less like that than any other place in this world.

The Christian church should be a group of people of differing skin color, genders, sexual identities and orientations, races, ethnicities, ages, and political beliefs, but united in the love of Christ and the love of each other. “Living out their unity in diversity and practicing what heaven will look like.” It’s so simple to say and so hard to live. I get it. I’m guilty too of thinking that people should think as I do and not always being very tolerant of those who believe differently. But truthfully, if everyone thought as I did, believed as I did, liked the same things I do, lived the way I live, this world would be an awfully boring place. The richness of life comes from the fact that we are all different. With our own unique gifts and talents that we bring. The trick is valuing those differences. Honoring those differences. Living out our unity in diversity. Practicing what heaven will look like.

Of all the things I know, I know that heaven is going to be a surprise to most of us. It’s probably not going to look like the churches most of us attend on Sunday mornings. It’s not going to look like our dining room table on Thanksgiving or on dinner party nights. It’s going to be a rainbow of colors, personalities, languages, denominations, and political beliefs. I think there are going to be people there that we don’t expect to be there. Because I think our human idea of grace isn’t always that of God.

I think part of practicing what heaven will look like is lived out in accepting and affirming others.  Not tolerating others who look different than us, or who believe different than us, or who act different than us, but truly accepting them. Not I love you but, just I love you. “If we want people in our family, we need to stop tolerating them and start welcoming them, or else they will decide for themselves that this family is not for them.” 

How many young people today are choosing not to spend their time in church?  Either because they don’t think it’s relevant to their lives or because they have seen too many examples of judgement, bias, intolerance dressed as Christian tolerance, or just plain hypocrisy. If our children who have grown up in the church see this and choose not to continue in their church family because of “tolerance” but lack of true welcome, how many other persons have left the church or never come in the first place because of their fear of being rejected, or judged, or simply “tolerated”? How many have been turned away or turned away because of too many expressions of love the sinner but hate the sin?

Tolerating someone and welcoming them are not at all the same thing. To tolerate someone is to say I love you, but... Welcoming someone is to say, with all sincerity, I love you and I’m glad you’re here and I affirm you as a child of God, made in the image of God and worthy of God’s love and of mine. 

That is the command that we have been given. To love others. To welcome the least of these. Those who are the same faith as us and those who aren’t. Those who look like us and those who don’t. Those with the same nationality, legal status, sexual orientation or identity, and tax bracket. And those who aren’t. Those who have absolutely nothing to offer to benefit us other than the following of the calling of Christ to minister to those in need. Whether we think they deserve it or not.

Our goal should be to have the most loving and welcoming church family on the block. A family who loves each other despite our differences. Who welcomes new members with open minds, open hearts, and open arms. Who truly believes the old adage that blood is thicker than water. Not through the blood of familial lineage but through the blood of Christ Jesus who died so that all of us might be brothers and sisters in God. Through his stripes. Through his scars. Through his wounds. Through his sacrifice. If God welcomed us into God’s family when we were so undeserving, who are we to withhold that welcome from others? Let us strive to grow our church families in love and in grace. In acceptance and affirmation. In diversity and in unity.

Let us practice each day what heaven will look like. In our own lives. In the lives of those we touch. Let us never stop striving to welcome new members to our family. As God loves us, let us love.  Above all else, let us love.