Aliens and Strangers

Background Passages: I Peter 2:11-12; John 17:14-17; Ephesians 4:1-6

As I reflect on things this week, I’m sailing down the Danube River in Eastern Europe. I tend to put off “don’t visit with me” vibes when I’m on vacation. One of the passengers who missed the signs asked me how many times we had been overseas. To this first-time traveler, our five times evidently qualified us as world travelers.

I sure don’t feel that way. While I know we are blessed physically and financially by God to see places in this world I never dreamed I would see, my 10 total weeks abroad on very carefully planned and sheltered cruises hardly make me Marco Polo.

I always find my time in other countries a bit surreal. Constantly aware of the cultural differences, language barriers and the vastly different historical and political frames of reference remind me that I am an alien in a strange land. It feels odd. Most of us find comfort in the familiar things of home. We find comfort in the world we know. Stepping beyond its borders heightens our anxiety.

When a thought first enters my head, I don’t always think it’s God telling me to pay attention and listen. When the feeling won’t go away, I have to reconsider if this is one of God’s teachable moments. In one of the early classes I attended in my one year of seminary, I read a short book called, An Alien in a Strange Land: Theology in the Life of William Stringfellow, by Anthony Dancer.

It has been almost 45 years since I read the book. I don’t remember a great deal. Studying the writings of American theologian William Stringfellow, Dancer came to the hopeful conclusion that the Bible (its truth) and the world (his creation) were central to God’s plan. He said the Bible is there to make sense of us and not us of it. In other words, it tells us who we ought to be rather than us trying to alter its truth to fit our desires and circumstances.

Dancer talked of a theology of engagement in the world that the church in general has come to avoid in an effort to keep the world’s influence from diluting the truth of God’s word. He argued against the church pulling back from the world, but instead engaging with it by ethically and morally carrying the teachings of Christ directly to the to those who live outside the truth God teaches.

Peter understood this when he penned his letter to believers in the first century, reminding them to live godly lives in a pagan world.

“Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.” (I Peter 2:11-12)

Peter’s reminder is a good one. We are supposed to feel estranged from the world around us once we accept Christ as Lord of our lives. From the first moment we commit ourselves to him and begin to understand his teachings, we should not get comfortable living as the world lives.

If we’re comfortable with what’s going on in the world around us, we need to check our moral compass. The peg isn’t pointing to God. The magnet pull of sin and discord drags us off course.

Peter tells us our lives must be distinctively different from those who are not believers, setting aside the sinful things in constant battle for control of our lives and live, instead, purposeful, God-guided lives that reflect his love and compassion to all we encounter and every decision we make.

One can’t accomplish any of that if we disengage from the world around us. We will reach only those desperate enough to finally open a door to a church.

Peter further says the reason for our alien behavior is so that those who do not believe, and maybe even those who have been disconnected from the God they once served, will see how we live and find their way to or back to the God who loved them enough to give his life for them. In that way, God is glorified by our alien status.

It’s not enough is it, to glibly live our alien lives perfectly for God if we never connect or build relationships with the people who are residents of this non-spiritual world? It’s just not.

That scripture kept popping up every time I’d start to feel the edge of discomfort descend on me in these new cultural contexts over the last two days in Croatia and Serbia. I’ll never connect in any way with these people if I never walk among them. Never talk with them.

The same is true in Christ. The charge is to build a community of faith that becomes a safe harbor for those people in the world who God is calling to believe in him. We’re only going to do that when we are willing to be in the world, but not of it. That’s not always easy to do.

As Jesus prayed for his disciples during his last night with them, he asked his Father in heaven to guard them from the world’s influence when he left them.

“I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one…Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.” (John 17:14-17)

It dawned on me then. There’s our passport to a foreign land! That is what grants you entrance into a world in which you no longer reside. Within that prayer is the peace that should follow every one of God’s aliens in this strange world in which we live.

Jesus prayed for our protection. Jesus prayed that we be set apart (remain aliens in a strange world) by the truth we found in Jesus Christ. The great news is that the passport is written in the blood of Christ and the truth of God’s word. It will never expire, though on our end, it may need to be renewed. We can and should carry it with us everywhere. Pretty cool when you think about it.

If we know we’re aliens and strangers in this world, we also know that is our calling to live differently and distinctively for Christ in such ways as to draw all people to him. We can’t do that hunkering down in the walls of a church.

This is the first time we’ve traveled by ourselves…without the security of several other friends who journeyed with us. On a cruise like this one, that means we have to dine and visit with strangers.

Finding myself way outside my comfort zone, I’ve tried to settle in and see what connections I could make with the people of the countries we visit and the people aboard ship. Our conversation today was with a very interesting couple from Chicago with a Serbian Orthodox Southern Baptist Methodist Christian heritage.

The conversations flow more freely than I imagined. The empathy I feel for them, in many cases, grew with each moment of discussion. Through the conversations, I have found other believers, some of whom have lived through earthly hell in a war zone or refugee camp, who celebrate their faith in Christ.

One morning we visited a small Catholic church in Osejik, Croatia. Compared to the more ornate cathedrals it was simple in size and design. Its approach to worship expressed in far less grandeur and pomp. I found a degree of comfort in the relative simplicity of the sanctuary, especially given the troubled life experienced by so many in the region over the past 25 years.

You see, we had just been in a home of people who were dramatically affected by the Serbian invasion of Croatia in 1991. Seven years of separation and fear, only to return to a bombed-out home with little to nothing left to salvage. Their spirit of grace and peace was a testimony to resilience.

A few minutes later, 10 miles down the road, found us sitting in this quiet church listening to a vocal concert by a young woman. A music student at the local college, her well-trained soprano voice echoed off the surrounding walls of the sanctuary with pure clarity.

The first few songs she sang were in Latin, part of the catholic liturgy. Part of her faith. Other than Ave Maria, the unrecognized melodies stood out as beautiful songs of adoration, written in the emotion of her face as she sang.

Then, breaking from the Latin, she began to sing in her native language of Croatia.

Cudesna milost, kako sladak zyuk!
Koja je spasila bijednika poput mene
Jednom bijah izgublien, ali sad sam pronaden
Bijah slijep, ali sad vidim

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound!
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I’m found,
Was blind but now I see.

Trying not to let the tears fall, God reminded me that the unifying factor for every Christian who feels estranged by the world around them is this common, but amazing grace. It encouraged me to keep living that distinctive life without fear of being an alien in a strange world, regardless of my circumstances…good or bad.

Paul had just finished praying for the Christians in Ephesus 3 asking God to grant them inner strength, to help them remain rooted in love, to find the power “together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,” even when you’re 9,488 miles from home.

You may feel at times the only one who believes as you do in the place where you live. You are not. When you step out of your comfort zone to build relationships and connect with the people God places in your life, you will find there’s always another alien just like you who has been called by God to live in the world while not being of it. One God. One Lord. One Spirit. One faith. One hope. One body.

Listen to Paul’s words.

“As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called. One Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. But to each of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.” (Ephesians 4:1-6)

Because we are called to live our lives differently than the rest of the world lives theirs; because we know we are charged to live in the world, but not by its misguided precepts; because we know there is strength and power in the unified and connected body of believers across the world and because it is our commission to ensure that everyone comes to know the personal love of Jesus Christ, that discomfort and disconnect you sometimes feel while in this world lets you know that you have your heart in the right place.

Embrace the alien and stranger within you. It’s by God’s design and calling.

I don’t know if I conveyed what I hoped to convey in this, but it made sense on this side of the world.