Two international trekkers from our community had recently returned from hiking in the Himalayas and brought home gifts they had acquired on their adventure. They presented our community with a shiny “singing bowl” (which rings out for minutes when you ding it) and a strand of multicolored Tibetan prayer flags.
Throughout the season of Easter our community had been writing prayers on small colored papers and pinning them to twine strung throughout our worship space. The result of the growing prayer installation closely resembled the flags brought by the world travelers. All we were missing was the wind to blow the papery rows of petitions about, and Pentecost could not have been a more perfect culmination of this season.
The children led us in procession from our worship space to the community garden out back, where we tied the prayers of our community from one bean teepee over to a sweet pea trellis and then finally over to an arch. The plan was to hang the Tibetan prayer flags alongside the prayers we had created, but before we did this, a member of our community, Christa, pulled me aside. “Ryan, I don’t think you know what’s written on these Tibetan prayer flags. It’s not simply ‘peace, love and harmony.’ They are prayers to other deities that are not the Trinity. I don’t think it’s right to do this.”
Christa had lived in Northern China before moving to Edmonds and joining our community and knew a lot about Tibetan Buddhism and Hinduism. I felt unprepared to care for her concern while also honoring the people who had brought the gift, so in my insecurity and anxiety I deflected by inviting her to share her experience and perspective with the two trekkers. Which she did, respectfully, while I made myself busy barbecuing. I checked in with the trekkers later on. “Oh, I wasn’t offended at all,” one said. “Actually, if you remember, you were the one who had asked us to bring back the prayer flags.”
How could I have forgotten?
The next day, I wrote an confessional and apologetic e-mail to Christa and the trekkers:
I was being a ‘religious tourist’ who intended to remain superficial. Then, when I got scared of being exposed, I passed the buck. Obviously, this is terrible leadership. I’m sad about that. If any conversations occurred yesterday about ‘what might it mean to be a Christ follower in a pluralistic world,’ or if anything positive resulted, it was because the Spirit of God is with us. Please forgive me.
All three individuals were gracious to me, and generous conversations did follow.
Our community may not have seen tongues of fire rest on our heads during the Pentecost service, but the Spirit moved in ways I didn’t expect – through a fumbled liturgy, open communication, and forgiveness. As curators of worship, we don’t get everything right all the time, especially the more we are willing to risk, and yet, Lord willing, something beautiful still emerges.
Words and Image © Ryan Marsh




