One of my dearest friends sent me an email following the General Convention and asked to know my thoughts about "the state of the Church." Indeed. I have not yet responded to her but this piece is an effort to sort that out a bit; at least as it is reflected in our sense of identity at St. Augustine's.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said: "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill can not be hidden." (Matthew 5:14)

The context in Jesus' sermon was a reflection upon the metaphors of his disciples being both "light" and "salt" and that their way of life should reflect their faith in the kingdom of God in how they choose to live their lives and how they treat others. John Winthrop, the great Puritan leader, picked up that metaphor in his sermon "A Modell of Christian Charity" in 1630. As the Puritans set sail from England to establish the Massachusetts Bay Colony, Winthrop told them that the new community they were establishing would be watched by the world:

"For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us. So that if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken….we shall be made a story and a by-word throughout the world. We shall open the mouths of enemies to speak evil of the ways of God…We shall shame the faces of many of God's worthy servants, and cause their prayers to be turned into curses upon us till we be consumed out the good land whither we are going."

For Winthrop and the Puritans, this new start in a new land would permit them to establish communities that more nearly reflected living into the gospel values of the true church which they believed the Anglican Church of the 17th century had abandoned. From the vantage point of history, we might judge that their radical experiment went radically wrong in their moral rigidity and judgmentalism. But their motivation, if not their achievement, was well grounded. How we live, matters.

While away on vacation, I had the chance to read Marcus Borg's new book on the last week of Jesus' life, appropriately entitled: The Last Week. In this book, Borg and co-author John Dominic Crossan reflect on the meaning of the Last Supper.

"According to the gospels…shared meals were one of the most distinctive features of Jesus' public ministry. He often taught at meals, banquets were topics of his parables, and his meal practice was often criticized by his opponents. Scribes and Pharisees aggressively ask 'Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?' (Mark 2:16; Matt. 11:19; Luke 7:34; 15:1-2). The issue is that Jesus eats with "undesirables," the marginalized and outcast; in a society in which the people with whom one shared a meal was hugely significant. Jesus' meal practice was about inclusion in a society with sharp social boundaries. It had both religious and political significance: religious because it was done in the name of the Kingdom of God; political because it affirmed a very different vision of society. An analogy close to our own time would be a religious leader in the American South prior to the antisegregation legislation of the 1960's holding public integrated meals and declaring, 'This is the Kingdom of God −−and the divided world that you see around you is not'".

The Church, since its inception, has struggled with the call to be "of the world but not in the world." That question is profoundly a question about porous boundaries. In various generations the boundaries between sacred and secular, between church and state, have been harder (the early church under persecution) and softer (the state church after Constantine) and in the generation in which we live, the boundaries are less than clear, are constantly being re-negotiated and vary greatly from denomination to denomination and from one individual congregation to another. Questions about admitting people freely to holy communion, baptizing children of nominal Christians, performing the sacraments of marriage (and even burial) for non-members −all these and more −are tough questions and each congregation has to struggle with what these things mean for them and how to live with integrity. But the basic defining character of Jesus' ministry −the inclusion of those defined as sinners and outcast −can not be compromised. We are to be places of welcome and hospitality −even for people quite different from ourselves.

What we profess in the Invitation to Communion in saying that "wherever you are in the spiritual journey (including those who have no clue even what that means), you are welcome here" is not a matter of political correctness. (Indeed, a more appropriate language would be "moral appropriateness.") It is a matter of following Jesus. Sunday by Sunday, we are invited to profess our sense of owning that mission: "To include all people as we share the grace of God and challenge ourselves to follow Christ."

Are we to be a city on a hill by whose open welcomingness the grace of Christ is manifest by example to the whole world or are we to be a city safely set apart (a city behind walls) in our Christian distinctiveness? (Many in the evangelical movement of this post-Christian age have chosen the latter and established congregations that meet in the confines of Christian malls with Christian food courts and Christian stores; they home school their children using distinctive Christian educational materials, and send their children to Christian academies and camps. The admonishment to be "in the world", for them, has been lost save for an abiding compulsion to issue words of condemnation of the world.)

The choice to be inclusive of those defined as marginalized in our particular culture can be difficult. It meant blacks in a former generation, gays and lesbians in our own; and in this pluralistic age, it often includes people with theologies unlike our own. It is a costly choice for it leads to being misunderstood and to rejection. It hurts because none like to feel so vulnerable and open. It may even lead to a cross as some people choose not to remain on the journey with us. But Winthrop's words still resonate to our own generation: "if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken… we shall open the mouths of enemies to speak evil of the ways of God."

What is the state of the Church? Well, mixed at best. When we are at our best, we reflect the faith that is in us by the choices we make. But sometimes, far too often, we fall back into a state of fear and as we all know, it is not doubt but fear which cast out faith. We are called to fearlessly tear down the walls even if it means the cross; and trusting, as Jesus did, the vindication of God.