Faith Works 8-15-2025
Jeff Gill
How to see beyond your horizon
___
What do we see when we look at the horizon from a comfortable place?
It's a distant spot that we may visit, but it can remain just barely in sight for quite a while if we aren't moving. Especially if we have no reason to move.
That point looks a little different if we're already in motion. It might be the perspective focus up ahead where the sides of the road and the telephone poles alongside all come together and meet where earth and sky converge. We watch it, because we'll be there soon.
Off to the sides, we might look around, especially if we're coming up to an intersection; our driver's ed teacher is in our heads reminding us to check the mirrors to look back, and see who's coming up behind.
But if we're on a pleasant porch, with a wide view around, and heat shimmering up the hills, the horizon is something that's just part of the surroundings.
One of the things Rev. Dr. Lee H. Butler Jr. made me think about at a conference I recently attended was how getting too comfortable in a particular spot can be a form of narcissism.
There could be discomfort or sorrow or tragedy over the horizon, or even around the corner from us, but if we can't see it, there's a human tendency (dare we call it sin?) to assume if we're fine, so is everyone else. And that if we're satisfied in a particular place, then that's where we're supposed to be.
For churches, the comfort and security of our faith perspective is something that can be very appealing. Folks come to worship to draw on those reserves of settledness, to borrow a cup of confidence, to find a solid rock on which to stand. That's true for individuals and families looking to a future that's coming at them fast, hoping a faith community perspective can help them know they're in the right place, or moving in the right direction.
Theological narcissism is a warning Dr. Butler offered to us as church leaders. He was talking about our assumptions about ourselves as being on the right path when a quick look around would tell us we might be on the wrong path. His cautions reminded me of my own religious tradition's Preston Taylor, an African American preacher and leader in the late 1800s & early 1900s who said in 1917 "…if the white brother can include in his religious theory and practice the colored people as real brothers, he will have avoided the heresy of all heresies."
You might say you can think of worse heresies, and that would be an interesting discussion for us to have. But increasingly I see his point, focused through the warnings of "theological narcissism" Dr. Butler shared: when we see other people as lesser in God's sight, or of lesser value among humanity, based on any external or incidental quality you can think of, skin color included, you've bent the needle on the compass of your theology to where it won't get you anywhere accurately.
Much of the church in America today has been sitting in a comfortable place, not really noticing where we're going, and we've been in a moving vehicle, not on a pleasant veranda. Suddenly, we look up and the neighborhood looks different, the people are unfamiliar, and we're not sure where we go from here.
The next step is to get off the wagon and look honestly at ourselves and where we are. And realize, for most of us, we're right where God wants us to be. Now what? Maybe the direction we need to go is to be more fully where we are, as life is, to the people we can reach right here.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's on a journey himself. Tell him where you're going at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
Jeff Gill
How to see beyond your horizon
___
What do we see when we look at the horizon from a comfortable place?
It's a distant spot that we may visit, but it can remain just barely in sight for quite a while if we aren't moving. Especially if we have no reason to move.
That point looks a little different if we're already in motion. It might be the perspective focus up ahead where the sides of the road and the telephone poles alongside all come together and meet where earth and sky converge. We watch it, because we'll be there soon.
Off to the sides, we might look around, especially if we're coming up to an intersection; our driver's ed teacher is in our heads reminding us to check the mirrors to look back, and see who's coming up behind.
But if we're on a pleasant porch, with a wide view around, and heat shimmering up the hills, the horizon is something that's just part of the surroundings.
One of the things Rev. Dr. Lee H. Butler Jr. made me think about at a conference I recently attended was how getting too comfortable in a particular spot can be a form of narcissism.
There could be discomfort or sorrow or tragedy over the horizon, or even around the corner from us, but if we can't see it, there's a human tendency (dare we call it sin?) to assume if we're fine, so is everyone else. And that if we're satisfied in a particular place, then that's where we're supposed to be.
For churches, the comfort and security of our faith perspective is something that can be very appealing. Folks come to worship to draw on those reserves of settledness, to borrow a cup of confidence, to find a solid rock on which to stand. That's true for individuals and families looking to a future that's coming at them fast, hoping a faith community perspective can help them know they're in the right place, or moving in the right direction.
Theological narcissism is a warning Dr. Butler offered to us as church leaders. He was talking about our assumptions about ourselves as being on the right path when a quick look around would tell us we might be on the wrong path. His cautions reminded me of my own religious tradition's Preston Taylor, an African American preacher and leader in the late 1800s & early 1900s who said in 1917 "…if the white brother can include in his religious theory and practice the colored people as real brothers, he will have avoided the heresy of all heresies."
You might say you can think of worse heresies, and that would be an interesting discussion for us to have. But increasingly I see his point, focused through the warnings of "theological narcissism" Dr. Butler shared: when we see other people as lesser in God's sight, or of lesser value among humanity, based on any external or incidental quality you can think of, skin color included, you've bent the needle on the compass of your theology to where it won't get you anywhere accurately.
Much of the church in America today has been sitting in a comfortable place, not really noticing where we're going, and we've been in a moving vehicle, not on a pleasant veranda. Suddenly, we look up and the neighborhood looks different, the people are unfamiliar, and we're not sure where we go from here.
The next step is to get off the wagon and look honestly at ourselves and where we are. And realize, for most of us, we're right where God wants us to be. Now what? Maybe the direction we need to go is to be more fully where we are, as life is, to the people we can reach right here.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's on a journey himself. Tell him where you're going at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
