TUNNEL VISION
In the months following our Annual Gathering I received two very different comments on the administrative action that was taken by the Annual Meeting in response to the ruling of the California Supreme Court on Proposition 8.
A minister, who was disturbed by the emphasis placed on Proposition 8 during the gathering, said, “This is not the heart of the Gospel.” A layperson, who opposed Proposition 8, remarked, “The statement we issued could have been made by any socially progressive organization; we need to hear it in church words; that’s where our power is.”
At Church Day on October 3, during the Ministry Institute discussion on the theologies of the UCC, I asked the question of the very diverse group of participants, “What do you hear the UCC proclaim as the heart of the Gospel?” The response—from 4 different ethnic heritages and 6 different religious histories—was, “Extravagant welcome.”
For nearly 20 years I’ve been articulating my three hopes for the UCC: that we make clear connection between our Biblical faith and any public actions we take; that we never abandon our commitment to justice; that we love one another in the midst of everything. These comments and conversations pointed me back to those hopes, and I recalled a statement by Shimon Peres, “There’s the light. Where’s the tunnel?”
Where’s the tunnel? How do we reach that blazing ideal? To get to the tunnel you need to excavate. Dig in. Dig deep. Root out. Keep focused. Endure some claustrophobic moments. Slog on where no one has ever gone before. Depend on your co-workers.
“At its most basic, a tunnel is a tube hollowed through soil or stone…..A tunnel is a horizontal passageway located underground…..The basic geometry of the tunnel is a continuous arch. Because tunnels must withstand tremendous pressure from all sides, the arch is an ideal shape. In the case of a tunnel, the arch simply goes all the way around.” [from Yahoo’s “How Stuff Works”]
Tunnels. From development in utero to birth; from death to new life; from salvation to discipleship; from wilderness to welcome table; we navigate these subterranean passageways. “Underground,” with its Walter Brueggemann tinge of subversiveness. “Withstanding tremendous pressure from all sides”.
This tunnel? How about if we begin wherever we are and burrow through layers of detritus and indifference to reach the heart of the Gospel? My thought has been to start digging during Epiphany—that season of light—sending out devotionals that chronicle this adventure. And to invite you to “dig in” also; to offer your accounts to be posted. In groups who meet—in person or electronically—to delve into the question, “What IS the heart of the Gospel?”
Not that we’re all necessarily going to come to the same conclusions. But what an adventure!
“Tunnel engineers, like bridge engineers, must be concerned with an area of physics known as statics. Statics describes how the following forces interact to produce equilibrium on structures such as tunnels and bridges: tension, which expands, or pulls on, material; compression, which shortens, or squeezes material; shearing, which causes parts of a material to slide past one another in opposite directions; torsion, which twists a material. The tunnel must oppose these forces with strong materials, such as masonry, steel, iron and concrete. So that the structure can withstand the load that is placed on it.”
Well, we’re not going to get too literal and meticulous in our application from engineering to the theological, but some of those descriptive words can definitely speak to us. During the dig we may be tempted to distort the material we work with; in working together our ideas “may slide past one another in opposite directions.” Yet the tunnel and the tunnelers can oppose those forces with strong materials such as commitment and mutual respect. And in 2010 maybe we can begin the excavation of the passage from the heart of the Gospel to every public witness we make.
“Tunnels must remain static, in stasis, in balance, in equilibrium so that they can bear the loads that are placed on them. There is dead load [which] refers to the weight of the structure itself, … [and]live load [which] refers to the weight of the vehicles and people that move through the tunnel.”
Keeping in balance the weight of the structure itself—the ideas, inspirations, interactions, and altercations that form the enterprise—is part of the task, that then opens the passageway so that others can move through it, that keeps us from tunnel vision. From development in utero to birth; from death to new life; from salvation to discipleship; from wilderness to welcome table.
There’s the light. There’s the tunnel.
