So sang Michael Stipe on “Leaving New York.” On an album that is sadly less than memorable, it’s a haunting line. Particularly if you tend to be left behind more often than you’d like.
In an increasingly transient culture, as more people move across the country for jobs or education or simply pure adventure (good things!), what is left behind is, well… more people left behind.
Our town is more highly transient than most. The university system and surrounding tech, bio, and medical industry companies have created a constant stream of in and out. It’s vibrant and exciting on one hand. I love all the innovation. But on the other hand—particularly for those who are more long-term residents—it can be wearying.
The other day I happened into a conversation with a stranger who has lived in our town for about half the time that we have. Reflecting on his experience and current state of relationships he said, “All my friends just keep leaving. I’m tired of it. It makes me not want to even be open to new relationships when I know they’re just going to leave me, too.”
Yep.
Our church is currently wrestling with this—thankfully much of it publicly, out loud, in the presence of those still present. Transience is perhaps the single greatest challenging to fostering a relationally healthy faith community in our town. Because trying to stay afloat in a sea of transience leaves you lonely (at best) and isolated (at worst). For some, it’s been too hard.
The question for those of us sticking it out is basically, “How do we keep our hearts open when they keep getting broken?”
I have no answers. Which is a big bummer for those who think that the pastor is the Answer Man. The best I’ve been able to do lately is to just ask someone, when they refer to the losses we’ve suffered, “So who do you miss?” And then, after they list some names—real people, real stories, real memories, real losses—I just look in their eyes and say, “Yeah. I miss them, too.”
Some problems don’t need answers and solutions. They need empathy and art.
You might’ve laughed if I told you
You might have hidden your frown
You might’ve succeeded in changing me
I might’ve been turned around
It’s easier to leave than to be left behind
Leaving was never my proud
Leaving New York never easy
I saw the light fading out
R.E.M., “Leaving New York”
