On Saturday night, during the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras I attended an 'open grounds' event in a church in Surry Hills. Every year, the church opens their grounds, offers food and drink, a place to rest and chill, and some easy music for people to take a break from the chaos of the Mardi Gras.
This is my first year volunteering, but I know a kid from my local church who's been going the last two years, and the open grounds itself has apparently been running in some form or another for twenty years. They've got it down to a fine art, including not only setting up teams for the various stations, but also getting volunteers from all over Sydney. The kid from my local church wasn't the only one, and I found myself herding a bunch of kids home at the end and giving one a lift home from the station.
I say 'kids' because they're the age of the children of my peers at church, but they're young adults, really. I think they thought I was maybe a decade or two younger than I am - still older, but not as old as I am.
The goal is not to proselytise, not to argue sexuality or gender politics. It's also not to affirm or deny what people are doing or to make a stand on one side or another of the line. Ultimately, the goal is to provide rest and respite in a space that wouldn't usually be associated with Mardi Gras. To provide a positive interaction with Christians and the church for people who wouldn't usually step into a church ground. And for Christians of Sydney to show love and kindness and compassion to people who we might not otherwise usually have the opportunity to minister to.
I liked that goal. I could get behind it. And when my sister sent me a link about signing up for it because her church (the 'cathedral' church of our denomination) asked for volunteers, I put my name in.
They take your name, ask you to sign a statement of belief, get you to put down a spiritual referee, have you choose two teams to join, and have an 'induction' day that people attend so they can make it clear what they're asking for. Then you turn up on the afternoon of Mardi Gras, there's setup, and prep, and an information session on how the night will go. If you're part of the 'conversations' team, then they'll give you some training on how to hold those conversations in gracious and graceful ways, with love and not confrontation.
I put my name down for 'conversations' and 'pancakes' teams. I have no idea why I put down conversations, and no memory of signing up for conversations, but when the email came in, that was where I was. And, to be honest, I guess God wanted me to both challenge and be challenged by the conversations I had that night.
Two shifts through the night, you're supposed to take at least one break and switch around in the middle. I was on 'conversations' to start with, then 'pancakes' later. They set me up outside in the entryway with some beads to make friendship bracelets.
I got into a conversation with a woman who had been raised at one of the Anglican-run private schools, so she'd learned all the typical stuff, but had ended up in a very Eastern Religions background - yoga, lots of "many roads lead to the right place', etc. She helped me out with the bracelet beading as we chatted, sorting beads into groups and laying out the letters so I could spell out 'L-O-V-E-D' on the bracelets.
My recommendations for the beading would be to have a bunch already made and ready for people to take. Try to work in phrases that don't use the letters L-O-V-E-D, because those are best for the ones that we make up on the spot. Also a needle or two for easier picking up of beads, and another set of scissors.
Have some 'stable tables' that the people beading outside could put on their thighs, and a sign to advertise what's going on and that people can get a friendship bracelet as they go in. (Conversations team can then link the bracelet with our purpose in opening the church to people.)
Some people will want to sit down and choose their own colours (there were not the right colours for a pride flag, although you could maybe do a trans flag if you were thoughtful about the choices) but I mostly directed people to just move up and down the colour ranges that were available in the box.
The second most meaningful conversation of the night was a guy who came from Ireland. His experience of the church and religion was 'Catholic guilt' so I talked to him about the joy of knowing Jesus, of being known, of being loved. He didn't sit, but crouched by me while his friends went inside. We talked for about ten minutes and I made a bracelet for him. I don't remember his name, but as I tied the bracelet around his wrist, I told him that when he woke up tomorrow, I wanted him to remember that he's loved by Jesus, that it's not guilt and shame, but love and freedom.
There are probably Christians who would feel this isn't enough. You have to TELL HIM THE GOSPEL right there and then, while he's listening. HAMMER IT HOME. That sort of thing.
Sometimes, I think the problem is that we're too busy hammering it home to realise we're bruising bent reeds. It takes an average of seven times for a woman to finally, fully walk out of an abusive relationship. And what is sin if not the epitome of abusive relationship?
There were a group of women in string-and-fabric dresses who paused for a few seconds, and exclaimed over the bracelets but weren't willing to stop and make ones themselves. (Need more of a table space for this, I think.)
Note to self: I think I might make a 'string and fabric' dress for next year, but in black as per the 'uniform' request, and designed to show off my tattoo. Also, longer hemlines and with a high cowlneck, maybe a more A-line skirt. The idea is to have something in the style, but less 'flesh on display'. Also, I'm not skinny anymore, so it's not much of a thing.
And there was a couple, she was South Korean, he was Thai, they made bracelets, but their English wasn't good enough to do more than hit the high points, and even then they were a bit vague. He did ask "Church? Why?" And I tried to convey, "Because Jesus love." Don't know if I did.
Every small interaction.
Anyway, I did the beading so long as there was light, but by the time the second shift hit, it was too dark for people to see what I was doing, and most people were led towards the light inside the church foyer, so they didn't need to be drawn further in. So I tidied up my beading stuff and went inside for a break. Got some water, took a breather and chatted with a few people on the team, then went out to see if the Pancakes team needed help.
Pancakes was pretty busy; they were outside, had a gas BBQ plate that was supposed to have two lines of gas heating, but really only had one that worked with any decent heat. Then there was the issue of the pancake mixes which needed to be made up but often tended to be lumpy or too liquid or too thick. I ended up helping flip pancakes, and chatting with the people in the line. A couple of light conversations (it's difficult to talk about life-changing things in the dark when you're trying not to let the stuff you're cooking burn), and one guy from Italy "Catholic" but doesn't really believe in anything - he didn't think there was anything in any religion, but he was impressed by the fact that the church was opening up its doors and space during Mardi Gras.
Then disaster struck: the BBQ plate we were using stopped working. We had to shut the pancake station down and turn people away (directing them inside for chai and a sausage sanger), and I went back inside and took another break, chatting with a few more team members.
I came out, wandered through the church 'proper' which had been set up as a 'quiet space' - a sensory null - so people could sit out of the chaos and let their energy wind down. There was beading happening there, but they didn't need me, so I went out to get a pancake and half bumped into a guy who stopped in the lobby and stared at the ping pong table. He looked kind of shocked, so I checked in with him (he was just taking a moment to recalibrate because the guys doing ping pong were SRS BSNS) and then I asked him about the night.
Turns out, he was the 'responsible adult' of his group this year. Someone else was the responsible adult last year, so they were responsibly adulting by taking turns being the responsible adult! He had some cool beads across his cheekbones which I asked where he'd gotten them from. His experience of the church and faith was typical English standard, which is to say 'Christmas and maybe Easter' but his stepmother was devout. However, he'd listened to Tom Holland's Dominion on audiobook just last week while driving down from Brisbane, and was in a very different place of spiritual questioning than he had been just a week ago.
We talked about sticking to your moral guns, about religiosity, about what to do when organisations didn't move as fast on matters as you thought they should. About moral authority and spiritual guidance. I probably could have asked more piercing questions than I did, but it was one of those conversations where you're not sure if they're going to keep talking or if they're going to spook. He kept talking, though, and it was good. I did mention that there was an Alpha course happening at the church in the coming weeks, and if he ever wanted to walk into the church on another Sunday and ask questions, there would almost certainly be someone who'd be willing to talk to him.
We closed up around 10pm, cleaned and tidied everything up, ate the last of the pancakes and then debriefed.
At least one person (maybe) came to an understanding of the gospel that night and gave his life to Christ, albeit in another language. But many others spoke of getting people to codify what they believed - asking them to 'get meta' about their thoughts around their worldview. There were a number of comments that indicated that people appreciated this kind of Christian love in the community, which, no, shouldn't be the endgame, but is a good and beneficial filip along the way.
And then we went home, with me shepherding a group of around six young people (well, we all shepherded each other) back to Central station from whence we went home. Encountering one of the other young people from our church - not one who'd been working with the Open Church - on the way!
It's the kind of thing I've been wanting to see 'the church' do more. Action without affirmation or approval. Kindness and love without condemnation.
Is it a fraught space, a delicate negotiation between "affirming" what people are doing that night and just providing hospitality? Yes. Doubtless there are people who think that even opening the church gates to the sinful without thundering condemnation of their lifestyle is approving what they're doing. But we are in a world that no longer accepts Christianity as the baseline of its moral code, and when it does promote Christian values, those values are more often used as a bludgeon to beat others into line than they are used to value and cherish and promote the thriving of humanity. We've left human rights to the rational humanists, and too many Christian movements are now trying to legislate morality instead - as though the kingdom can be brought with civil words and good behaviour.
At this point in time, with so many words and lies and liars and con-men out there making money out of mouthing piety and practising hypocrisy, we are better off shutting our mouths for the most part, only answering when people ask, "but why are you doing this when you're supposed to hate us?" with "because Jesus asked us to love you, and this is an expression of that love".
The 'conversations' training before we opened the gates was interesting: they gave us some hints and tips, a post-it note to write down what it is about Jesus that brings us joy, about why it is that it's good to know the Lord. They asked us to think of conversation openers and how to invite people into discussions. What stuck with me was one young woman who said she wasn't comfortable with asking how they were enjoying the evening, because they would probably say it was great and fun, and she wasn't okay with them enjoying what was sinful and/or affirming that enjoyment.
I'm trying to remember myself in my twenties, with that perspective and that view: if I had that view. And how I grew out of it in the end. Probably through contact with a lot of people from all walks of life, slowly changing over the course of twenty years. I still believe the core of what I believed then, but I'd phrase it very differently. In knowing God, in trusting Him, we become who we are meant to be. We are kites with an anchor, we are creatures basking in the glory of our Creator, children trusting in the love of a father who is both loving but also who sets and recognises boundaries.
In the end, the young woman was the one who spoke to the guy with the language barrier, and called a friend who spoke his language to bring him to Christ on the phone. So there's a lesson and teaching in there for me, too. :)
In all honesty, I resonate more with the "the goal is to get them to Jesus and let Him convict them of their lifestyle". Not to mention 'lifestyle' can be anything from sexuality, gender, to monetary practices, to treatment of women as co-heirs in Christ, to having a compassionate and active heart for the vulnerable in our society, or creating opportunity for those who otherwise have little to no hope of thriving. But I move among people who 'know of the gospel' but don't believe it means anything more than a good way to live. Like the yoga lady I first talked to, it's about what you do and the kindness you show and us all doing good for each other. That's a hard shell to break through, and at this point in time and history and society, we're only going to get little cracks at doing it. So take the little cracks where you can.
To me, it's about knowing who you are in Christ, being known through and through in that relationship, and being loved all the same, even as you grow and change and become who you're meant to be: a child of God, the apex of creation, made in His image, to give glory to Him.
