Even as Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey, hailed as king with loud choruses of “Hosanna”, I am sure the loneliness of Gethsemane (and, ultimately, of the Father’s face turning away as He hung upon the cross) began to weigh on Him.

• Listen to “Meet with You” featuring Kim Baysinger.
• Print and save the sheet music for “Meet with You”.

That brings me to this, perhaps the loneliest, most yearning and honest of all the songs I’ve yet written. I wrote it for a friend who was going through a very tough time – sitting in an Ohio prison and full of questions for God. I know I could never get into his shoes quite enough to do that experience justice, but this was my humble attempt.

Thankfully, as I write this, my friend is out of prison, in a good church and a healthy relationship, has a job and has seen God’s mercy work wonders in his life. Perhaps, however, with the reminder that Jesus does indeed understand – and care about – our loneliness, this song will minister to someone you know…

In His Peace,
Fisher

Meet with You by Thomas George Fisher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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One of the reasons I am so passionately adamant that all forms of Christian fellowship need to predominantly be welcoming to children – not child-centered, but conducive to children worship with, and then playing near, adults (sometimes, even at adult Bible studies!) – is because they benefit so much from watching the Faith happen, seeing it as something you grow up with, not grow out of.

It’s a cliche because it’s true: “the Faith is caught by our children as much as it is taught to them”.  I saw that this Saturday morning, and was much overjoyed.

This morning, my daughter Avery woke up a little after me.  Once I was finished washing the dishes, I showed her the valiant defeat suffered by her mommy and me at the hands of one of our friends in a board game last night (she asks me to report on these types of late-night activities; I think all kids are curious about what grown-ups actually do after their kids’ bedtimes!).

But then, when I was finished telling her, she looked rather seriously at me (the kind of look like, “I have something rather important to share with you”), and said, “Daddy, you know how on Saturdays, when you don’t have to go to work, you sit and read your prayers with me?”

It’s true that Avery has walked in on me praying from my prayer book (The Divine Hours, compiled by Phyllis Tickle) several Saturday and Sunday mornings (and many weekdays during a recent hiatus from our work here in Bolivia), and it’s true that she has many times sat down to listen (and to echo certain parts, like the “Our Father” or the Gloria).  I’ve even occasionally altered things on the fly, such as singing “This is the Day” when the psalm on which it is based came up in the prayers, to make it more interactive and accessible for her.

But no way did I expect her to be anticipating that time together.  For her, I thought the specialness of this simple fellowship was the act of cuddling on the couch, which I’m sure it is, in large part.  However, there was no mistaking it: she wanted to do prayer-time with daddy.  She wanted to meet Our Father with her daddy.

So, with a wink and a shrug, I decided, there’s no such thing as too much prayer.  I found the next Office in the prayer book, sat with her, and we prayed.

Now, that’s something I’m glad she’s catching from me!

I think the cure for Christian disunity is a focus on Christ and an avoidance of the extremes.

Could I be more simplistic? “Allow me to ’splain… No, no time. Allow me to sum up.”

Okay, as I see it, there are two extremes that damage Christ’s Bride, the Church: one is rampant error, and the other is theological snobbery.

The first extreme is when congregations and individuals go off the deep end. The Faith Movement, for example, has so twisted Christian doctrine that I would have to say, without equivocation, that they are, not, indeed, Christians. Now, I’m a fairly ecumenical guy. But essentials are essentials, and when you start saying that Christians are gods and Jesus was defeated at the cross (not to mention that your version of Jesus was rich wants you to have a Rolls Royce), your Jesus ain’t my Jesus; you have left the flock for another flock. You’ve joined the kingdom of the cults.

Even within the fold, however, there are extremists who breed heresy and doubt, such as Episcopal bishops who try to twist Scripture to justify immoral lifestyles, or who want you to question whether Jesus was born of a virgin or rose from the dead. They haven’t outright denied the essentials of the faith (but by implication, they have), but they are close to the edge, and dragging many, many, with them.

But let’s look at the other side. There’s a wideness in God’s mercy… that seems absent from the faith of many “orthodox” believers – brothers and sisters and whole denominations (boy, I hate that word) who would take a non-essential doctrine (how and when one is baptised, for example) and elevate it to the position of essential. “No, your infant baptism doesn’t count, even though your parents were believers and baptised you in a way that represented their belief in God’s covenant faithfulness and their commitment to raise you in the Faith,” or, “I know you were baptised as a believer, but you did it wrong; no dunkie, no cigar.” This is just so sad!

I don’t know which is worse: people whose theology is so bad that I can clearly see we have a rift between us and can see the need to reach out with the Gospel, or the brother or sister who comes up to you with an appearance of fellowship and then shuts the door on your face when they find out you cross yourself or don’t read Tim LaHaye.

No, as I finish the previous paragraph, I do know. I know where I stand with a heretic or someone in grave error, and I know what to do: pray for them, love them and reach out with the Word of God. But with a brother or sister who arrogantly builds a wall between us on the basis of some… well… preference, I feel often disoriented, betrayed and lost for what to say or do.

You who are close to the edge, please, please, please, return to the essentials of the faith. Reject your heresies and errors and join us in the fold (much like the Worldwide Church of God did, thanks to people like Hank Hanegraaf) The best summaries are the Apostles’ or the Nicene Creed, but we also need to immerse ourselves in the Word of God, and take the whole counsel of God to be our authority.

To you who take a mystery (predestination? free will?) or a preference (no holidays? ties at church? baptism by immersion only?) and feel the need to shut out those who do not share this perspective, please know that you are shutting out a part of the body, a part of the bride, a part of yourself. Stop it.

I’m sure I’m guilty of it, too. So, let’s pray for each other on this one.

Form V in the Book of Common Prayer starts with four (four!) sentence prayers about the Church; three cover the following: that she would be committed to love and truth; that our divisions may cease; and that we might fulfill the mission of the Church and share the Good News. I think these are in a really logical order. If we lack either love or truth (the two extremes mentioned above), we will remain divided. If we remain divided, the growth of the Gospel will always be hindered. Pray hard. Pray for the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.

For Christ really, really, only has one Bride.

“One Faith”, a song by John Michael Talbot, is one of my favorite anthems of Christian unity. I love calling Talbot my brother, even though he is Roman Catholic and I am, well, not (sorry – I hate the word “Protestant”. We Anglicans have an uneasy relationship with that label, too; “mere Christian” will do just fine, thanks).

Maybe Jesus’ prayer for one Church will again be answered in our lifetime.

Christianity Today has been doing some fine, intriguing articles of late about the evangelical tradition’s rediscovery of the ancient Faith, and I just got sent another neat one – spawned by the Pope’s visit to the White House – about how relations between the Roman and evangelical traditions are warming a bit…

To which I have to give a cautious, but enthusiastic, w00t!

This bit of the article, which can be found here in its entirety, is why I’m enthusiastic:

Leith Anderson, president of the National Association of Evangelicals, said, “We have solidarity with the Catholic church in that we are pro-life, value traditional families, and uphold the doctrines of the Trinity, the deity of Christ, and the substitutionary Atonement. In a culture where these beliefs are constantly challenged, we are grateful for all who strongly stand for shared beliefs.”

“It’s not just about abortion,” said Wallis, who describes himself as an evangelical convert to Catholic social teaching. “We’re talking about a new evangelical-Catholic alliance that’s forming around what we would call good news to the poor and what [Catholics] would call preferential option to the poor, as well as what it means to be committed to the common social good.”

This bit is why I am cautious:

“Evangelicals and Catholics have found much more common ground and common cause in the struggles with secularism and other religions,” said Anderson. “But don’t think this means alignment or merger. Our doctrinal differences are as deep and distinct as ever.”

That’s because there are differences, and they do matter. The Pope lets syncretism go unchecked here in Latin America. That – as one example – needs to change. He has also said some things that make me think he’s not entirely welcoming us as brothers.

And evangelicals have serious issues, too. I recently rejoiced openly that someone near and dear to us was attending confirmation classes at her mom’s Catholic church (which is huge because she has been expressing a growing love for Jesus of late, and was afraid of what some in her family might think; it turns out said family members welcomed her attending the classes), and someone else reacted incredulously that these family members are, “okay with Catholicism, but not Christianity?”

I did not hit him. I restrained myself.

So while we have a long way to go – while we all have a lot to learn from our History and His written Story, as well as from each other – I can say w00t, and w00t again, because we truly are one Faith, with “one hope and one baptism, one God and Father of all…”

Thanks so much, Christianity Today for the good reporting and John Michael Talbot for the great anthems of the Faith!