Mark the Lutheran and I got a wild idea years ago while eating pizza at Double Dave's in Tyler, Texas. Across from my conservative Church of Christ was Mark's conservative Lutheran Church. We decided to go to lunch, and on that day, discovered that we had more in common theologically than either of us would have ever imagined.
Centrality of Jesus? Check.
Teachings of Jesus for life most important? Check.
Salvation? Check.
What probably distinguished us the most was his funny accent from Minnesota. Likewise, he probably thought I sounded like a character from Dallas.
So Mark and I decided to invite our churches to join one another during Holy Week, which we pulled off with great success for three years. The Lutherans would come worship with us on Wednesday night, and we ("we" meaning me and a handful of skeptics) worshipped with them on Good Friday.
At least a few of us on both sides discovered that we all loved Jesus, and all embraced a life of salvation that while we might only be able to see through a glass darkly, held on to with all of our might, faith as being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see.
The Lutherans invited us each Good Friday for those three years to come back to their Fellowship Hall--(Hey! We call ours a Fellowship Hall too! We have all kinds of things in common!)--for cookies and punch after worship, the safest of refreshments for two groups wondering about each other. Surely some peered over the edges of their little transparent plastic cups as they sipped red punch, wondering whether that stranger across the Fellowship Hall actually and truly believed in Jesus.
The irony of the red punch on Good Friday was most likely completely lost on most of us in attendance. For while still a few days shy of the Communion of Easter Sunday, might it have been possible for the blood of Christ in that briefly strange moment to cover both Lutherans and Church-of-Christers there under the florescent lights surrounded by wood panelling?
The main reason that so many people no longer take Christianity seriously is because we have spent centuries emphasizing our divisions, in many ways putting Jesus back up on the cross while we cast lots at his feet about whether women should be allowed to serve the Lord's Supper, whether divorced people can do more in worship than just sit there, and whether the Lutherans are doing more than just pretending to love Jesus.
While we argue over the details, millions of people sleep in every Sunday who could not care less about pianos and powerpoint, who instead wake up at 10:00 a.m. wondering if God is actually there, and if God is there, does God really care?
Imagine a really Good Friday where one day, every last Christian church in the world is named the same, where every name brand is gone, and where everyone agrees that Jesus was never meant to be used by us as a bargaining chip to divide.
Centrality of Jesus? Check.
Teachings of Jesus for life most important? Check.
Salvation? Check.
I have been around enough church people to hear the echoes of the objections: That'll never happen in a million years!
Well then we will just have to hold out hope that it will happen in a million-and-one.
