The Bubble

When I was little, I had a giant Ernie from Sesame Street in my bedroom.  Ernie was in a bed that was as big as a normal twin bed or bigger and when you plugged him in, he would clap his hands.

Ernie made it to my room courtesy of my mother and grandmother’s affinity for G. Fox department store.  G. Fox was the go to department store in downtown Hartford, CT.  The kind of store that took up an entire city block – with a parking garage all its own and floor after floor of all kinds of great stuff to buy.  It’s rumored that a trip to G. Fox is the reason that I don’t like elevators or helium balloons.  So the story goes, while in said elevator (which was of course the only way to make it to all of the different departments), the elevator doors closed on my balloon (which I’m sure was a child friendly G. Fox gimmick of the day).  Crying ensued and I haven’t been a big fan of elevators or helium balloons ever since.

Going to G. Fox was pretty much an all-day activity for my mother and grandmother.  I could remember being asked if I wanted to go with them and although I was still young enough to want to be with my mother most of the time, I would choose to stay home with Grandpa because what little kid wants to go shopping all day.

The thing my mother and grandmother loved about G. Fox is that it not only sold the typical goods, but they also occasionally sold their displays.  This is how I came to have Ernie as my first roommate – he was originally a G. Fox display – sidebar when we eventually moved, Ernie was relocated to a local daycare.  It’s also how my grandmother managed to score an 8’ tall industrial strength artificial Christmas tree that held her precious Christmas ornament collection every year.

My mother and grandmother drove about 20 minutes to get to G. Fox and drew people from that far and more in every direction.  It was a hub, not just of shopping, but a shared experience.

In his book the Vanishing Neighbor, Marc J. Dunkelman, talks about these kinds of trips to the department store.

He says, "the routine was, by and large, the rule for most shoppers…stores geared to serve a variety of disparate consumers tended to congregate in the same area".

He acknowledges that, of course, these stores or urban commercial districts were no idyllic melting pots free of prejudice.  But he points out,  even if you weren’t sifting through the same racks of apparel, you inevitably walked among people who lived outside the bubble of your particular neighborhood.

The parable of the sower is familiar to many Christians.  Jesus tells of a farmer scattering seeds.  Last week, we read a story about Jesus healing on the sabbath which caused quite a bit of concern around following the rules of the Jewish law.  Between that incident and the parable of the sower, Jesus has not only many more believers but many more doubters as well.  There is clearly a contingent of people who are certain what Jesus is teaching is heresy.  And yet, Jesus continues to teach – even in their presence.

And so we come to the parable of the sower – where perhaps Jesus is trying to help his followers better understand why he doesn’t just try to avoid the doubters – those who are challenging him.  Jesus, does not tailor his message based on the demographics of the audience and his refusal to do so is partly what establishes that the good news is available to all – not just the ones who believe right away, not just the ones who have conversion experiences.  The good news is even made available to those who hate Jesus, those who plot to kill him.

The parable this morning got me thinking about where we scatter seed – where we share the good news of God’s love – where we share the values that we believe have the ability to transform our world.  The farmer in Jesus parable encountered all kinds of different land – the path, rocky ground, ground covered in thorns, and good soil.  I’m guessing either the good soil was amongst the other kind of soils or he couldn’t get to it without going on the path, the rocky ground and the ground covered in thorns.  The point is he didn’t use some predetermined filter to determine where to spread the seed.  It’s almost like only in spreading the seed could he figure out what kind of ground was beneath.

One of the new issues that face us as Christians in the world today, is that almost everything we encounter has been filtered or sorted for us.  Technology has allowed our world to be curated and catered specifically to who we are as individuals.  And because as humans, we generally prefer being around others who are like us, curation and our own propensity of preferring similarity allow us to lead lives that never bring us into close proximity, never mind relationship, with people who are different.

This is not to say that many of us are not truly concerned about justice and equality for “those” people – the poor, the blacks, the refugees, etc. But take a minute to think about – how many of “those” people do you interact with on a daily basis.  How many of “those” people do you have a relationship with?  How many of “those” people would you count as friends?

Dunkelman notes in his book that the rise of the suburbs gave rise to local shopping centers which in turn contributed to the demise of the downtown department stores like G.Fox.  After all, the local shopping centers were closer and more specifically tailored to those who lived near them.  What’s not to love about that. 

Well, I dare say that if my mother and grandmother had been shopping at a local shopping center, Ernie would never have been my roommate.  Of course, I also might not be afraid of elevators and balloons.  But Ernie was spectacular – something I’ll remember my entire life.  I’m convinced he represents the possibilities and transformation that is possible when we don’t live our lives in carefully curated bubble.  May God bless us on this journey.  Amen.