This is the third and last in a series on the presence and practice of Shibboleths, or passwords, in our public and private discourse; that clannish, dogmatic devotion to social, political or religious doctrines that can deafen us to anyone “not on my side.”

Never has the end of this tape been better illustrated than the story about the guy that was marooned on an island for years before being rescued.  It was a large island, well-stocked with food and building materials, and as its only inhabitant, he pretty much had the run of the place.

Fortunately, he was good with his hands.  Years later, as his rescuers arrived, he was showing them around.  “What’s that building over there?” they asked, pointing to an impressive three-level structure.

“Oh, that’s my house,” said the man.

“Wow,” they admired.  “And what’s that building over there?  It almost looks like it has a small steeple.”

“That,” the man said proudly, “is my church.”

“You have been busy!” they said.  “And what’s that other large building over there?  Is that a cross out front?”

“Oh,” said the man.  “That’s the church I used to belong to.”

Yikes.  To combat this, last time we noticed Jesus’ obsession with diversity, and his stubborn reluctance to homogenize His church.  The second and last thing to say about all this is also the Bible’s last word on everything: love.

You hear the word “tolerant” a lot: how tolerant should we be of them? The other party? The immigrants? The neighbors? And what about our church? Is it tolerant of other denominations?  Of Catholics or Protestants? Of couples who live together outside of marriage?  Of gay people?

Jesus was not tolerant – he was loving. Remember his encounters with the woman at the well and the woman caught in adultery? He was unconcerned with their politics; he did not rail against their liberal social behavior. Here’s how he dealt with them:

He stood with them in a time of weakness.
He was not harsh.
He spoke the truth in love.
He risked judgment from others.
He focused them on honoring God, and
He never once left them in doubt of how much he cared for them.
Is it possible that, as one