Having been Presbyterian since the womb (and hailing from a long line of male Presbyterian pastors on my mom's side of the family), I don't know much about the Saints that my Episcopalian and Catholic friends esteem.
But I do appreciate Kate and Jessica's story about Saint Rose (from the 13th century) who was rejected by the religious order she so desperately wanted to join and now is remembered each year in her hometown in Italy with a procession that honors "the memory of people who don't fit in. She's known as the saint of exiles. Wanderers. Those refused hospitality by religious communities" (pp 79-80).
I'm not sure when exactly this started to happen, but I have developed a very tender heart toward those who feel like exiles or outcasts. Especially who feel like exiles and outcasts from the church.
Which is weird because my experience of church (for the most part) is one of being valued and honored.
In a lot of ways, I'm a quintessential church person who probably makes some non-church people roll their eyes -- I once had a friend who would call me Luke Skywalker and refer to herself as Darth Vader! She meant it as a joke, but we both knew she felt there was some truth under the joking.
That's part of who God designed me to be; I can't do much about that.
But what I can do is leverage that part of my identity. I can study what it means to be a trustworthy person because I think exiles and outcasts don't trust the church. (And in many cases, there's very good reason for that.)
[This is definitely going to be part of my sermon on Sun, May 8, 2022!]
I can leverage my natural tendencies to care, be sincere, be reliable, and be (semi)competent enough to give folks a reason to give the church another chance.
I love what Kate and Jessica say on page 80: "Part of our identities as people of faith is found in community. We are not islands, but reliant on one another to remake us, pull us toward God, and be a soft place to land."
I can be a soft place to land when people feel God calling to them ... even if they never thought they'd be willing to give church a chance again. Or for the first time.
Pastor Allison
I'm curious:
Do you feel like an exile or an outcast from the church? Are you one who has been hurt by the church and while you're still on speaking terms with God, you don't care for God's children much? What would it take for you to give the Body of Christ another chance?
On page 83 in "A Prayer for When You Don't Belong," Kate and Jessica write, You loved what the world devalued and demeaned: 'the poor, the sick, foreigners, women, those deemed unclean, the imprisoned'. Does your path regularly cross with someone the world (or the church) devalues and demeans? Is there some small way you can honor and love them without making too much of a fuss?
