Long before ONA came along and churches began to write statements, Jesus had no problem suggesting that net fishing is the appropriate metaphor for drawing people to faith. Later in the Gospel he even makes it plain. He suggests that nets catch fish of every kind (13:47).
Now if you take a look at this from a marketing perspective it kind of throws out the idea that you need to identify your target group. Fishing with nets suggests you sweep the sea wide and broad. There's no target, just a net. There's no priority seating, just an open door.
And even the oldest creed of the Church, the Apostle's Creed, was already on track with this. It proclaimed "one Holy catholic Church." - catholic meaning, universal, encompassing, inclusive of the whole world...which is how we used to say it in the church where I grew up: the Holy Universal Christian Church...ironically, we said it that way so there wouldn't be any confusion between us Protestants with the Catholics (with a capital "C") down the street.
So the confusions began to set in, and grew. Some began to think of the church as "world-dominating" instead of world-encompassing. How you get there following a Savior who carried a cross is a leap that's hard to see, but people somehow made it.
But the confusion expressed itself in another way too. In one community where I lived there were two Catholic (with a capital "C") Churches about 4 blocks from each other. Why? Well, St. Mary's up on the hill was the Polish congregation, and St. Benedict's was...you can probably guess the heritage of these immigrants based on the current Pope....yes, German. And even though every service would have been in neutral Latin anyway, I suppose it's too much to think of Polish and German Catholics in the same congregation.
Of course, we Protestants weren't any better. Outside of town there were two Reformed Churches a couple of miles from each other. The one was differentiated from the other because it was known as the "Rooster Church" by the metal rooster on top of the steeple. Why two? Well, one was made up of Lipper Germans and the other from Westphalia. What, you expect German Protestants to worship together? Instead they drove their buggies past each other to Church.
So the idea of the net turns to hooks.
But it's not just history. It's always the challenge of the church to divide, to create "others"... "us" and "them's." It's what was happening in Corinth. Some said, "I belong to Apollos, I belong to Paul, I belong to Cephas..."
I suppose it has something to do with wanting the Church to always feel safe and comfortable. The more cohesive the group, the more comfortable it can be. But that's not fishing with a net. What's more, it's always in those risky encounters with difference where there are vulnerabilities that learning and growth takes place, if we're willing to take the risk. The choice is always fear or faith.
And the idea is to push it open rather than closed... You know the old poem...
He drew a circle that shut me out,
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win.
We drew a circle that took him in.
That's when the church is at its best...open and radically inclusive. My teacher said, "We pay too much attention to boundaries...whose in and whose out. If we'd pay attention to the center, the boundary takes care of itself." In fact, the boundary isn't even our business. It belongs to someone else. (Point up!)
Nets. Not hooks.
Fred Craddock tells a story, which I'll tell in first person as he would....although it's his story...
"I was invited last year, in mid--October, to the University of Winnipeg in Canada to give two lectures, one Friday night and one Saturday morning. I went. I gave the one on Friday night. As we left the lecture hall, it was beginning to spit a little snow. I was surprised, and my host was surprised because he had written, "It's too early for the cold weather, but you might bring a little windbreaker, a little light jacket. "The next morning when I got up, two or three feet of snow pressed against the door. The phone rang, and my host said, "We're all surprised by this. In fact, I can't come and get you to take you to any breakfast, the lecture this morning has been cancelled, and the airport is closed. If you can make your way down the block and around the corner, there is a little depot, a bus depot, and it has a café. I'm sorry." I said, "I'll get around." I put on that little light jacket; it was nothing. I got my little cap and put it on; it didn't even help me in the room. I went into the bathroom and unrolled long sheets of toilet paper and made a nest in the cap so that it would protect my head against that icy wind.
"I went outside, shivering. The wind was cold, the snow was
deep. I slid and bumped and finally made it around the corner into the
bus station. Every stranded traveler in western Canada was in there,
strangers to each other and to me, pressing and pushing and loud. I
finally found a place to sit, and after a lengthy time a man in a greasy
apron came over and said, "What'll you have?" I said, "May I see a
menu?" He said, "What do you want a menu for? We have soup." I
said, "What kinds of soup do you have? "And he said, "Soup. You
want some soup?" I said, "That was what I was going to order--soup."
He brought the soup, and I put the spoon to it--Yuck! It was the
awfulest. It was kind of gray looking; it was so bad I couldn't eat it,
but I sat there and put my hands about it. It was warm, and so I sat
there with my head down, my head wrapped in toilet paper,
bemoaning and beweeping my outcast state with the horrible soup.
But it was warm, so I clutched it and stayed bent over my soup stove.
The door opened again. The wind was icy, and somebody yelled,
"Close the door!" In came this woman clutching her little coat. She
found a place, not far from me. The greasy apron came, "What do you
want?" She said, "Glass of water' He brought a glass of water, took
out his tablet, and said, "Now what'll you have?" She said, "Just the
water." He said, "You have to order, lady." "Well, I just want a glass
of water." "Look, I have customers that pay--what do you think this
is, a church or something? Now what do you want?" She said, "Just a
glass of water and some time to get warm." "Look, there are people
that are paying here. If you're not going to order, you've got to
leave! "And he got real loud about it. So she got up to leave and,
almost as if rehearsed, everybody in that little café stood up and
started toward the door. I got up and said, "I'm voting for something
here; I don't know what it is. "And the man in the greasy apron said, "Au right, all right, all right, she can stay." Everybody sat down, and
he brought her a bowl of soup.
"I said to the person sitting there by me, I said, "Who is she?" He said, "I never saw her before. "The place grew quiet, but I heard the sipping of that awful soup. I said, "I'm going to try that again." I put my spoon to the soup--you know, it was not bad soup. Everybody was eating this soup. I started eating the soup, and it was pretty good soup. I have no idea what kind of soup it was. I don't know what was in it, but I do recall when I was eating it, it tasted a little bit like bread and wine. Just a little like bread and wine. (Fred Craddock, Craddock Stories, 83-4)
Let us pray. O God, in Jesus you drew the circle wide and open, including us in your grace. Give us the courage to put into practice what Jesus taught...overcoming division with inclusion, doubt with hope, fear with faith. Amen.