Back in the 1940s, John Gunther traveled all across America and published a bestseller called Inside U.S.A. He was a reporter with an eye for the unusual details that make places special. He shared this interesting tidbit about Nebraska: “Some early villages were so small that, for a time, each had only one church; Catholics and Protestants worshiped in the same room, with half the pews facing an altar at one end, half facing a pulpit at the other.” I find that image very intriguing. Two groups of churchgoers all praying to the same God, but unable (or unwilling) to pray together, facing the same way, as a single congregation.
Humans, especially homo religiosus, are funny creatures. We build structures and put our denominational labels outside the front doors and too often tell ourselves that our prayers ascend more quickly, more directly, or more piously to God in heaven than prayers offered from churches down the road.
When I graduated from seminary, I served a Presbyterian parish in Zimbabwe for three years. It included a central church plus six preaching stations—farming outposts where I’d lead a worship service for the rural community once a month. To their credit, some of the farmers built a chapel, knowing that, depending on which Sunday of the month it was, it might host a Presbyterian pastor or a Dutch Reformed minister or an Episcopal priest or a Baptist preacher. We all used the same Bible and sometimes sang the same hymns or choruses. And by and large, the farmers would attend most Sundays, regardless of what denominational label might be affixed to that week’s service. To me, that was a big improvement over what Gunther heard about in those early Nebraska communities.
I know of some Presbyterian churches today who share their worship space with totally different religious communities—not just with Methodists and Baptists, but with Jewish or Muslim congregations. It sometimes takes some architectural sensitivity and creative re-arrangement of furniture, but it is certainly one way to live out a faith that is open, generous, and radically hospitable.
Our congregation already has close ties and shared programs with Rodef Shalom and Temple Sinai synagogues, plus our connection with other East End churches through East End Cooperative Ministry and Open Hand Ministries. Currently, some of our elders are meeting with elders from Eastminster Presbyterian Church to explore the ways our ministries can respectfully and faithfully present the gospel of Christ for our East Liberty neighborhood.
During the upcoming weeks, as we endure the latest challenges from the pandemic, we will be returning to our fall worship and educational ministry schedule. Some of you will choose to connect with ELPC virtually through our livestream options. Some of you will be back inside the building, whether for services or classes or mission projects. We are not trying to create two different congregations (especially ones that face opposite directions in their faith life), but hoping to offer a range of ways all people can connect with God and one another. Let us be in prayer with our sister communities of faith around us, since every place of worship is dealing with the same challenges. And may we find ways to affirm the good news of Psalm 133: How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!
—Randy Bush