respect the dignity of every human being

In the baptismal covenant, which we Episcopalians affirm at every baptism, we promise to “respect the dignity of every human being.” What that means, and to whom that vow extends may be a matter of debate. But it shouldn’t be. And that vow is why I am concerned about the treatment of the men who stay at the homeless shelter as well as those people who come to our food pantry. We are not a social service agency. We are the church, the body of Christ. I have said repeatedly that radical hospitality means welcoming everyone in, and treating everyone who comes in our doors with dignity and respect. We are not the federal government; we are not a social service agency. We are the Church, and when we act we must act with the mind of Christ and knowing that we are encountering Christ in the faces of those to whom we minister.

If we do not treat those who come to our doors with dignity, then we are not doing what we are called to do.

In the State Journal article about our sexton, the caption on Russ’s photo reads, “he learned to show respect for homeless people ‘because everyone is human and deserves some dignity’.” There’s nothing more important, more profound, that one can say.

More on communion

I had a conversation yesterday about “open communion” with a new parishioner who shared with me the story of her journey to the Episcopal Church. She came to Grace from a church in another state where open communion was practiced; that is to say, communion was not restricted to baptized Christians. I have written before on this issue and needn’t repeat myself. Certainly, our practice does exclude people–the unbaptized.

But there are other ways to exclude people. I’ve also been asked by members of Grace why I don’t address people by name when I distribute communion. The answer to that is simple. To do so is to elevate the relationship between priest and parishioner above the relationship between Jesus Christ and the one receiving communion. When I place bread in someone’s hand, or offer them the chalice, I am sharing Jesus Christ with them, not myself. I came across an interesting observation concerning this at Anglicans Online. You may read it here.

But there’s something else even more important. I don’t know everyone’s name who comes to the altar rail. I will never know the name of everyone who comes to receive communion, and to name some people while leaving others unnamed is to create distinction between insider and outsider, between those with whom I have a relationship and those I don’t.