Preached at Urban Abbey on March 17, 2019
Scripture
Matthew 5:37
Let your word be “Yes, Yes” or “No, No”; anything more than this comes from the evil one.
Sermon
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We think about his nature as for-others and we confuse this with being used by others. Justo L. Gonzalez gifts us this this language of for-otherness. It is a theology in which we are rooted at the Abbey and it claims us as created in the image of a relational God and celebrates our being as most human and most divine when we are most for others. This simple and challenging, everyday language is beautiful but it requires a robust understanding of boundaries and boundaries are hard.
They are particularly hard when you grow up in a female body and everything around you says, “Hey don’t be rude, your boundaries are not important; good girls say yes.” Say yes to hugs from strangers. Say yes to helping others, even if it’s at expense of your wellbeing. In fact, I remember being taught to say,”no” on only two occasions. The first was by Nancy Reagan and her Just Say No to Drugs campaign, which I think research has proven didn’t work out so well. The second was about sex, “Just say no.” The fundamentalists said just say no or burn in hellfire; while the school said, Just say no, here is a picture of gonorrhea and a video of a woman giving birth. Just say no, was a clear theme, but not really helpful in terms of boundaries, even when it comes to drugs and sex. Not only are we lacking training around boundaries for a healthy everyday life, many of us are from the Midwest where we are allergic to saying, “no.” It’s not really Nebraska nice. “No” can seem so harsh and unkind, even if we say, ‘No, thank you.’ The most aggressive we get is often passive aggressive, so defining boundaries is challenging, especially when you just wish everyone had some common sense about them and would be kind enough to not make you think or talk or establish them.
Not only are boundaries hard but it feels wrong to be a church and say, “No or even no, thank you.” Particularly, as an inclusive and welcoming new church start. Churches have a history of saying no and hurting people, saying you can't sing in our choir, you are not welcome here in that outfit, you can’t be divorced and take communion, we won’t marry you or you can’t be gay here unless you are celibate. And sometimes churches don’t really say no out loud but you can feel it, particularly when everyone already has their friends, all the small groups are full, and the choir really does not want anyone to change a note or add a new voice. Churches have a way of saying no, particularly to new people, “no, we tried that idea or no this is how we do things.” I have witnessed church meetings where people have debated putting a locked fence around a community garden, like Americans are eating too many vegetables and stealing a tomato might be a huge problem.
When we started the Abbey, I wanted to be about saying Yes! Yes, you are welcome! Yes, we are more than a church! Yes, come all week long for coffee! Yes, relax and look at books. Yes, we are all these different efforts in one and yes, we love the messiness of it. But we struggled with saying, yes. In our first weeks, a man came and got coffee as a part of a Friday group and he asked for cream and our manager said, “No we don’t have cream, we have half and half.” He came the next week and asked again. They said, “no” again. And the third week, he brought his own cream and the manager said, “No, you can’t bring that in here.” They proceeded to argue over cream and when the manager called me to tell me how this man had been so rude. I agreed that we needed to meet because this is not who we are going to be. I said, “We can say, “yes” to cream. We want to be his Cheers, we want to know what he needs without guessing; buy the cream. Say yes to our guest”
I have taught and re-taught saying, “YES” and we had a hard time: saying yes to giving folks change for the meter; saying yes to people who wanted to return something, especially when they have a receipt; saying yes to salon clients wanting to take a ceramic cup next door; saying yes when a guest wants to add peanut butter to his strawberry smoothie; saying yes to events that meant we shift our staff by 30 minutes; and hundreds of other things. We had such a hard time saying yes, even when it seemed so easy and so obvious.
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We think about his nature as for-others and we confuse this with being used by others. Justo L. Gonzalez gifts us this this language of for-otherness. It is a theology in which we are rooted at the Abbey and it claims us as created in the image of a relational God and celebrates our being as most human and most divine when we are most for others. This simple and challenging, everyday language is beautiful but it requires a robust understanding of boundaries and boundaries are hard.
They are particularly hard when you grow up in a female body and everything around you says, “Hey don’t be rude, your boundaries are not important; good girls say yes.” Say yes to hugs from strangers. Say yes to helping others, even if it’s at expense of your wellbeing. In fact, I remember being taught to say,”no” on only two occasions. The first was by Nancy Reagan and her Just Say No to Drugs campaign, which I think research has proven didn’t work out so well. The second was about sex, “Just say no.” The fundamentalists said just say no or burn in hellfire; while the school said, Just say no, here is a picture of gonorrhea and a video of a woman giving birth. Just say no, was a clear theme, but not really helpful in terms of boundaries, even when it comes to drugs and sex. Not only are we lacking training around boundaries for a healthy everyday life, many of us are from the Midwest where we are allergic to saying, “no.” It’s not really Nebraska nice. “No” can seem so harsh and unkind, even if we say, ‘No, thank you.’ The most aggressive we get is often passive aggressive, so defining boundaries is challenging, especially when you just wish everyone had some common sense about them and would be kind enough to not make you think or talk or establish them.
Not only are boundaries hard but it feels wrong to be a church and say, “No or even no, thank you.” Particularly, as an inclusive and welcoming new church start. Churches have a history of saying no and hurting people, saying you can't sing in our choir, you are not welcome here in that outfit, you can’t be divorced and take communion, we won’t marry you or you can’t be gay here unless you are celibate. And sometimes churches don’t really say no out loud but you can feel it, particularly when everyone already has their friends, all the small groups are full, and the choir really does not want anyone to change a note or add a new voice. Churches have a way of saying no, particularly to new people, “no, we tried that idea or no this is how we do things.” I have witnessed church meetings where people have debated putting a locked fence around a community garden, like Americans are eating too many vegetables and stealing a tomato might be a huge problem.
When we started the Abbey, I wanted to be about saying Yes! Yes, you are welcome! Yes, we are more than a church! Yes, come all week long for coffee! Yes, relax and look at books. Yes, we are all these different efforts in one and yes, we love the messiness of it. But we struggled with saying, yes. In our first weeks, a man came and got coffee as a part of a Friday group and he asked for cream and our manager said, “No we don’t have cream, we have half and half.” He came the next week and asked again. They said, “no” again. And the third week, he brought his own cream and the manager said, “No, you can’t bring that in here.” They proceeded to argue over cream and when the manager called me to tell me how this man had been so rude. I agreed that we needed to meet because this is not who we are going to be. I said, “We can say, “yes” to cream. We want to be his Cheers, we want to know what he needs without guessing; buy the cream. Say yes to our guest”
I have taught and re-taught saying, “YES” and we had a hard time: saying yes to giving folks change for the meter; saying yes to people who wanted to return something, especially when they have a receipt; saying yes to salon clients wanting to take a ceramic cup next door; saying yes when a guest wants to add peanut butter to his strawberry smoothie; saying yes to events that meant we shift our staff by 30 minutes; and hundreds of other things. We had such a hard time saying yes, even when it seemed so easy and so obvious.
I wanted us to say, ‘yes’ so much I have held staff meetings about how to say, ‘yes.’ I have literally said, “If you are about to say no, stop and think about how to work out a yes and if you can’t get there talk to me.” I created the inverse Nancy Reagan, with Just Say YES, for the love of God just say yes!
Of course saying, “yes” lead to some of our biggest problems. One of our managers said yes, and made a latte while I offered our opening prayer. A barista said yes to making three smoothies while Sister Kathleen shared about the horrors and costs of Texas for-profit immigration detention centers (P.S. this was during Obama’s presidency and blender noise and for-profit detention centers are still a problem). We tried to stay open as a coffee shop even when we hosted our partner events and it didn’t work for anyone. Coffee people felt awkward for interrupting and event people were distracted. We were not holding sacred space because we couldn’t honor boundaries that were needed in that hour.
Once we said yes to a partner for an event that I knew in my gut would be a problem. They wanted to host an event at 9:00am. I thought to myself, this may be tricky, that is when we have folks working and studying, but I thought I’m sure I’m wrong; we can make it work it will probably only be 20 people anyway. I was wrong, 109 people came to hear about human trafficking. It was a great event, but all the people who were working or studying left, likely a little traumatized by stories they were not prepared to hear and they never came back. What made us a good church, made us a bad coffeeshop. We had to create boundaries around how and when we use our space because being everything made us nothing, we failed in every aspect of our pluralistic identity.
We have struggled with boundaries around welcoming people, it turns out not everyone is ready to be in community all the time. We have a delightful neighbor who is sometimes intoxicated. I have had to talk to him about not coming in until he is sober, because no woman working in a coffee shop is waiting to be picked up. As I was saying, “there can be no hugs without consent” he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. Literally, as I was talking about not hugging random people, he started to hug me. It turns out inclusion is harder in practice than in theory, particularly when folks are in crisis or struggling with mental and physical health. Perhaps you have noticed, but we are not a health center. We have struggled to find balance in this space and saying, ‘yes’ all the time just doesn’t work anymore than saying, ‘no’ all the time does. Rather than “Just Say Yes!” what I really wanted was problem-solving and solution-seeking focused around how we care for others.
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We tend to domesticate him and his message in a way that is palatable for the powerful. We transform this change maker into a maintainer of the status quo because a community of quiet, boundary-less folks are much easier to use than a group of robust, committed folks with serious intentions and a profound sense of their own worth.
Jesus, when we really look deeply, seems to have extraordinarily clear boundaries. He doesn’t even respond to mom-guilt (Matthew 12:46-50). He eats with friends, he weeps with friends, he rests often in his favorite town of Bethany, he receives intimacy reclining on the chest of the beloved disciple (John 13:23), and he even takes a nap on a boat during a storm (Luke 8:23). When folks seek healing, he offers it on his terms, on his timing. He leaves people in line when he is done and to the man waiting for 38 years to be dipped in the pool he asks the questions, “Do you want to be well” (John 5:1-14)? This moment isn’t about him, it isn’t about how many people he can heal. The disciples are never hanging around after the crowds dwindle and decide to head home after shooting the breeze. When it’s time to leave work, he leaves his work; when it’s time to eat, he eats; when it’s time to pray, he prays; when it’s time to teach, he teaches; and when it is time to move on, he puts one foot in front of the other. He is intentional about every aspect of life. He is intentional about who is a disciple and who is a part of the crowd. He knows who he is, objecting when crowds and even his own disciples attempt to make him over in the image of the world by wanting to make him king or lead a revolution. He teaches his disciples to do what he is doing, feeding people, healing people, changing people’s lives in order to change the world. This act of empowering others is an ultimate way of saying this is not about me, it’s about us. It’s a way of saying the kingdom of heaven is different from any kingdom you see on earth. He sends the disciples and the 72 out with their own boundaries, with companions for the journey and no solo heroes. He asks them to be vulnerable in their travels and, in a last note, he reminds them of their boundaries, telling them to shake the dust from their sandals when they are not received (Matthew 10:14 and Luke 10:11). He sends them out in for-otherness, not to be used by others.
Brené Brown, in her study of resilience, names that people who live wholeheartedly have the clearest boundaries. They can be vulnerable because they do it with intention. I think Jesus invites us into this even if the church has not. This scripture in the Gospel of Matthew is one of the great sermons, it starts with the beatitudes; blessed are the poor, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the meek…all the people who are not usually blessed. And in this later section Jesus says, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…” You have heard it said, thou shall not murder, and then Jesus takes the everyday theology even deeper, naming a call to attentiveness to anger and bitterness that precipitate an act of violence. You have heard it said thou shall not commit adultery then Jesus takes it deeper to lust, don’t look at one another as an objects. Just not committing the big sins is not enough, faith is hard work and deep intention. He lays out a deeper commitment to the kingdom of God and he urges folks not to take vows or oaths they can not honor but to mean no and mean yes when they say it.
Meaning it when you say it can be hard. It can be hard to say no, even when we need to for our own wellbeing and the wellbeing of others. But I would take a “no” over a half hearted “yes” any day. A half hearted yes makes us grumpy and disappointed, it leaves us feeling used and we are no longer cheerful givers but quiet sulkers. Jesus chose clear boundaries because it allowed his work to flourish and engage. He never says yes because he’s nervous about saying no. He choose boundaries and invites us to do the same.
There is a difference between being for others and being used by others and we can usually feel that. It is easier to learn boundaries by noticing when they have been transgressed. Like my first year in ministry, when a music student died at UNO and I was asked to facilitate a prayer vigil. There I was in my borrowed collar shirt, with a plastic cookbook back cut out to make a makeshift collar because the real thing had been lost, trying to manage a deeply sad space while a graduate student I had met a few times stood by me. While I was praying publicly and inviting people to sing together, his hand moved from around my shoulder to cupping my behind. I was shocked. I moved a little, he moved a little. He was intoxicated and it took a while for what was happening to register, but I couldn’t figure out a way to say no in the moment. I had never practiced in worship lab and clergy boundaries training programs rarely address moments like this.
I usually learn boundaries when they have been violated. I have struggled in this space and as community we have struggled. We have said yes and we have said no at the wrong times. We have said “yes” out of fear or ease. We have said, “no” out of selfishness or anxiety. Both were wrong. Yes and no are essential and hard. I find this to be a constant edge of our work and a space that requires nuance from our staff, board and team leaders. We have given away food and coffee to the point where it became dangerous to our staff and difficult for our partners. One day it seemed that suddenly we had started a day center and while we could handle one or two homeless folks, we were not equipped for 15 homeless folks all day long. Salon staff found folks naked in the bathroom and one of our baristas almost told some rough looking hipsters that they could have free coffee but not a free cappuccino, fortunately they stopped just short of that. The real gift in our work is that we never do anything alone and we have great partners. Our partner agencies Sienna Francis House, VNA and MACCH named that we had stopped helping folks with the food and coffee we were giving away and started enabling chronic homelessness. We were trying to help and we had become part of the problem. We had to change course and we had to do it quick. We had to acknowledge our limits, maybe in phase 21 we will have a day center for our homeless neighbors, staffed with social workers but for now we have baristas. Our boundaries help us welcome people into a space that is safe.
Of course saying, “yes” lead to some of our biggest problems. One of our managers said yes, and made a latte while I offered our opening prayer. A barista said yes to making three smoothies while Sister Kathleen shared about the horrors and costs of Texas for-profit immigration detention centers (P.S. this was during Obama’s presidency and blender noise and for-profit detention centers are still a problem). We tried to stay open as a coffee shop even when we hosted our partner events and it didn’t work for anyone. Coffee people felt awkward for interrupting and event people were distracted. We were not holding sacred space because we couldn’t honor boundaries that were needed in that hour.
Once we said yes to a partner for an event that I knew in my gut would be a problem. They wanted to host an event at 9:00am. I thought to myself, this may be tricky, that is when we have folks working and studying, but I thought I’m sure I’m wrong; we can make it work it will probably only be 20 people anyway. I was wrong, 109 people came to hear about human trafficking. It was a great event, but all the people who were working or studying left, likely a little traumatized by stories they were not prepared to hear and they never came back. What made us a good church, made us a bad coffeeshop. We had to create boundaries around how and when we use our space because being everything made us nothing, we failed in every aspect of our pluralistic identity.
We have struggled with boundaries around welcoming people, it turns out not everyone is ready to be in community all the time. We have a delightful neighbor who is sometimes intoxicated. I have had to talk to him about not coming in until he is sober, because no woman working in a coffee shop is waiting to be picked up. As I was saying, “there can be no hugs without consent” he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. Literally, as I was talking about not hugging random people, he started to hug me. It turns out inclusion is harder in practice than in theory, particularly when folks are in crisis or struggling with mental and physical health. Perhaps you have noticed, but we are not a health center. We have struggled to find balance in this space and saying, ‘yes’ all the time just doesn’t work anymore than saying, ‘no’ all the time does. Rather than “Just Say Yes!” what I really wanted was problem-solving and solution-seeking focused around how we care for others.
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We tend to domesticate him and his message in a way that is palatable for the powerful. We transform this change maker into a maintainer of the status quo because a community of quiet, boundary-less folks are much easier to use than a group of robust, committed folks with serious intentions and a profound sense of their own worth.
Jesus, when we really look deeply, seems to have extraordinarily clear boundaries. He doesn’t even respond to mom-guilt (Matthew 12:46-50). He eats with friends, he weeps with friends, he rests often in his favorite town of Bethany, he receives intimacy reclining on the chest of the beloved disciple (John 13:23), and he even takes a nap on a boat during a storm (Luke 8:23). When folks seek healing, he offers it on his terms, on his timing. He leaves people in line when he is done and to the man waiting for 38 years to be dipped in the pool he asks the questions, “Do you want to be well” (John 5:1-14)? This moment isn’t about him, it isn’t about how many people he can heal. The disciples are never hanging around after the crowds dwindle and decide to head home after shooting the breeze. When it’s time to leave work, he leaves his work; when it’s time to eat, he eats; when it’s time to pray, he prays; when it’s time to teach, he teaches; and when it is time to move on, he puts one foot in front of the other. He is intentional about every aspect of life. He is intentional about who is a disciple and who is a part of the crowd. He knows who he is, objecting when crowds and even his own disciples attempt to make him over in the image of the world by wanting to make him king or lead a revolution. He teaches his disciples to do what he is doing, feeding people, healing people, changing people’s lives in order to change the world. This act of empowering others is an ultimate way of saying this is not about me, it’s about us. It’s a way of saying the kingdom of heaven is different from any kingdom you see on earth. He sends the disciples and the 72 out with their own boundaries, with companions for the journey and no solo heroes. He asks them to be vulnerable in their travels and, in a last note, he reminds them of their boundaries, telling them to shake the dust from their sandals when they are not received (Matthew 10:14 and Luke 10:11). He sends them out in for-otherness, not to be used by others.
Brené Brown, in her study of resilience, names that people who live wholeheartedly have the clearest boundaries. They can be vulnerable because they do it with intention. I think Jesus invites us into this even if the church has not. This scripture in the Gospel of Matthew is one of the great sermons, it starts with the beatitudes; blessed are the poor, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the meek…all the people who are not usually blessed. And in this later section Jesus says, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…” You have heard it said, thou shall not murder, and then Jesus takes the everyday theology even deeper, naming a call to attentiveness to anger and bitterness that precipitate an act of violence. You have heard it said thou shall not commit adultery then Jesus takes it deeper to lust, don’t look at one another as an objects. Just not committing the big sins is not enough, faith is hard work and deep intention. He lays out a deeper commitment to the kingdom of God and he urges folks not to take vows or oaths they can not honor but to mean no and mean yes when they say it.
Meaning it when you say it can be hard. It can be hard to say no, even when we need to for our own wellbeing and the wellbeing of others. But I would take a “no” over a half hearted “yes” any day. A half hearted yes makes us grumpy and disappointed, it leaves us feeling used and we are no longer cheerful givers but quiet sulkers. Jesus chose clear boundaries because it allowed his work to flourish and engage. He never says yes because he’s nervous about saying no. He choose boundaries and invites us to do the same.
There is a difference between being for others and being used by others and we can usually feel that. It is easier to learn boundaries by noticing when they have been transgressed. Like my first year in ministry, when a music student died at UNO and I was asked to facilitate a prayer vigil. There I was in my borrowed collar shirt, with a plastic cookbook back cut out to make a makeshift collar because the real thing had been lost, trying to manage a deeply sad space while a graduate student I had met a few times stood by me. While I was praying publicly and inviting people to sing together, his hand moved from around my shoulder to cupping my behind. I was shocked. I moved a little, he moved a little. He was intoxicated and it took a while for what was happening to register, but I couldn’t figure out a way to say no in the moment. I had never practiced in worship lab and clergy boundaries training programs rarely address moments like this.
I usually learn boundaries when they have been violated. I have struggled in this space and as community we have struggled. We have said yes and we have said no at the wrong times. We have said “yes” out of fear or ease. We have said, “no” out of selfishness or anxiety. Both were wrong. Yes and no are essential and hard. I find this to be a constant edge of our work and a space that requires nuance from our staff, board and team leaders. We have given away food and coffee to the point where it became dangerous to our staff and difficult for our partners. One day it seemed that suddenly we had started a day center and while we could handle one or two homeless folks, we were not equipped for 15 homeless folks all day long. Salon staff found folks naked in the bathroom and one of our baristas almost told some rough looking hipsters that they could have free coffee but not a free cappuccino, fortunately they stopped just short of that. The real gift in our work is that we never do anything alone and we have great partners. Our partner agencies Sienna Francis House, VNA and MACCH named that we had stopped helping folks with the food and coffee we were giving away and started enabling chronic homelessness. We were trying to help and we had become part of the problem. We had to change course and we had to do it quick. We had to acknowledge our limits, maybe in phase 21 we will have a day center for our homeless neighbors, staffed with social workers but for now we have baristas. Our boundaries help us welcome people into a space that is safe.
I have been late to a clergy meeting and said, “Sorry I was late, I was banning and barring someone from our inclusive church.” They laughed and then were shocked when I shared why. I never thought I would have to call the police for help so much and neither did they. Most churches don’t. I have asked staff to call the police during communion. I have called 911 for intoxicated folks. I never imagined doing that when I started this place and I didn’t learn about it in Seminary. I do not love this part of this work but I do love what have learned from it. We want to be a part of healing but we are not equipped for every aspect of this work, at least not yet. And I work on boundaries because I understand what I couldn’t before which is that we can not welcome people into a space and into a community if we have zero boundaries, we would have nothing to welcome them too. We are constantly navigating our boundaries, learning and growing. When we care about work we set intentions and boundaries, not everyone is on the pastoral care team or a small group leader, not everyone teaches Sunday school or handles our finances, there are trainings and expectations and boundaries. We do this to be healthy and to offer our communal space and collective gifts in a way that is life giving. We do this to be for others rather than used by others, we do this to offer our best to others.
A true welcome is born of intention and it has boundaries about how we treat one another in community. When boundaries are violated, we feel it. Perhaps you have felt it, when your giving becomes less cheerful, when your time is sucked up without care or intention. I feel it in my gut, maybe you feel with muscle tension in your shoulders. I am learning how we need to structure our space and our boundaries, proactively rather than reactively. We often struggle with boundaries but it is not cruel or unkind, it is about intention. So in this season of Lent, I invite you to join me in thinking about your boundaries, how do you plan your time and your day with intention. How do you let your yes be yes and your no be no. How do you say yes out of love rather than fear? Boundaries do not have to be closing us off from the world, they can open us up but the difference is we are present and ready to love. Boundaries help us enter with our whole heart, they say if we are going to do it then let’s really do it, on purpose, like Jesus would.
Reflection Questions:
What boundaries do you struggle with?
Have you said yes out of fear rather than love?
Have you said no when you wish you had said yes?
What do you seek for your day and your week that allow you to be present?
What do you seek for your day and your week that allow you to be present?
Who can help you navigate setting and keeping and even changing boundaries?
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