What Is Radical Inclusion?
Listen: “One Love” by Bob Marley
Tennessee Williams is my favorite American playwright. He is best know for plays like A Street Car Named Desire, Cat On a Hot Tin Roof, The Glass Menagerie, and The Night of the Iguana. His characters are beautifully flawed, both tragic and resilient. Williams says, “My chief aim in playwriting is the creation of character. I have always had a deep feeling for the mystery in life, and essentially my plays have been an effort to explore the beauty and meaning in the confusion of living.” In my view, Tennessee Williams displayed an ability to capture redemptive notes in tragically flawed human beings—a gospel for misfits. Blanche DuBois, in A Street Car Named Desire, has a famous line at the end of the play: “Whoever you are—I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Angels unaware. A gospel for misfits.
Jesus was criticized harshly by religious people. He was accused of being a glutton and a drunkard because he didn’t fast enough and attended too many parties. He was accused of being a friend of tax collectors and sinners because—he was—a friend to the marginalized, the outcasts, and the misfits (Luke 7:34).
Radical inclusion was at the heart of Jesus’ practice and teaching. This was in contrast to the religious environment to which Jesus was born. The major Jewish religious and political parties of Jesus’ day were the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Zealots, and the Essenes. One thing that all four religious groups had in common was a desire for purity. Purity was defined by avoiding contagious people or things (based on the purity codes in Leviticus and traditions surrounding it). Some foods were considered contagious like pork (scavengers) or shell fish (fish with no scales)—the misfit and blemished animals were the ones you shouldn’t eat or sacrifice. Some people were considered contagious like lepers or tax collectors—basically the sick, the handicapped, the sinners, and the Roman sympathizers—people who were misfits or blemished.
Jesus practiced radical inclusion by touching, healing, forgiving, and eating with people who were considered unclean. It seems clear that in Jesus’ mind, grace-filled community was a healing agent. He had more confidence in the healing power of grace-filled relationships and community than he had in the fear of becoming contaminated.
We are all oddballs and misfits in one way or another. We all need grace-filled relationships and community in order to grow spiritually. Through the power of vulnerability and acceptance, we find hope and healing. We have to move out of our comfort zone in order to experience this kind of community. Here are a few practices that can pay rich rewards.
Eating. It’s not that hard to invite someone to coffee, lunch, or dinner that is different than you. They might be a different gender, race, nationality, economic status, education level, religion, lifestyle, or sexual orientation. Jesus broke bread with the misfits, and we can begin with people who are simply different. It might feel awkward at first, but it’s good.
Listening. Listening to the stories of people is one of the most powerful ways to connect with someone. Learn to ask great questions and listened deeply. (Check out my podcast called Spirituality Adventures for a great example.) Listen for the hurts and the pain, the loves and the passions. This is where human beings connect deeply.
Sharing. Learn to practice vulnerability. The quickest way to connect with someone is not necessarily sharing our strengths and accomplishments. (Although asking about someone else’s is a good thing.) Most deep connections come from being vulnerable. I have sat in recovery meetings with people from different backgrounds, lifestyles, and religious beliefs and watched people open up about their struggles with emotional health, addictions, or relationships. Something happens. The S/spirit moves. It’s magical.
This is something for which our hearts long. This is good news (gospel) for misfits—it’s beautifully flawed and wonderfully redemptive. It helps heal our shame and connects us to ourselves, others, and something greater. It breaks down the walls of indifference and hatred and allows love to grow.
Shalom
©realfredherron, 2021
