Come Sit With MeSample

In Paul’s instructions in Colossians 3 for loving well, nowhere does he say to walk away from those we disagree with. Nowhere does he say to avoid people or retreat into echo chambers where we can hear only reverberations of our own viewpoint and opinions. He doesn’t say to block or unfriend, to cancel or discount another person. Instead he calls us to forgive one another, to choose compassion, have patience, and “bear with each other.” In the original Greek, that little phrase doesn’t simply mean to put up with or to tolerate. It means to endure, to have patience with, and—get this—to suffer.

Bearing with one another can feel like suffering, can’t it? Yet this is the way of Christ. We are called to sit close enough to people that they could reach over and hurt us. That’s exactly what Jesus did. He kept His betrayer close enough to hand him a piece of bread.

Here’s what we risk if we don’t find a way forward: we will each end up sitting at a table of one.

If we have to agree with every single person in our church on every single issue, we will be sitting in a church of one.

If we have to agree with our neighbor on every single issue, we will live in a neighborhood of one. A book club of one. A Bible study of one. A living room of one. A family of one.

We’re all going to sit alone at Thanksgiving and Christmas and even the communion table where Jesus beckons us to “Take and eat.” A table of one.

I know how uncomfortable it is. Every election cycle, every news story, and every political event has the potential to set off fireworks in my own home—and not the pretty kind but the explosive, cover-your-ears-and-run-for-cover kind.

Scott and I got married knowing full well that we didn’t always agree. But we got married anyway. Here’s why: because we loved “us” more than we hated what was different.

That conviction is what keeps us coming to this table twenty-five years later. Maybe that’s a starting place for each of us today: We can love “us” more than we hate what is different.

I understand how hard this is, but silence isn’t working (and neither is shouting on Facebook). I know of friends who haven’t talked in more than a year because of divisions over recent events. These friends used to sit at the same table, vacation together, worship together. As days turn to months turn to years, that gap will continue to widen unless it’s dealt with.

Maybe we could try this instead.

Instead of unfriending that college roommate with her unending rants, use the Facebook like button to let her know you love the photo of her kid holding up his new driver’s license.

Instead of arguing with your dad over how he voted, listen as he tells you what he’s been thinking. (We can listen without agreeing and still enjoy the Thanksgiving turkey!)

This doesn’t mean that the hot-button issues aren’t important. They are. But if our divisions create an all-or-nothing mentality, then we’re all missing out. So instead of focusing on everything that divides, let’s find points of connection. We might not agree with the way our next-door neighbors parent their children, but when we get to know them, we might realize that we both share a fondness for historical fiction and sushi.

I understand that sushi won’t save the world. But like the old song says, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.”

And with you. Right here, at our table of two.

-by Jennifer Dukes Lee