When Strangers Become Friends

In memory of Ronald “Rone” Bullhorse

Spiritual community has a precious gift: the power to transform strangers into friends. These strangers are often from remarkably different backgrounds; much more so than relationships you might form through the workplace, school, or club. The thing you have in common? Your soul’s yearning. Perhaps nothing else.

And still, despite the dearth of evidence to support our words (what with the teeming variety of persons assembled at any given moment), we have the audacity speak upon all in the gathered congregation to say, “You belong here. We belong together.”

We witness this stranger-to-friend transformation with some frequency, its regularity not diminishing its wonder. We see this wondrous change as Jesus gathers his disciples. Many had little in common but grew to share much: their dreams, their faith, their doubt, and the unshakeable sense that God was moving in their midst.

On our best days, this happens to us too. We first enter the community without much we can say we have in common with every person in the room, except that yearning of our souls. For some it’s the thoughtful atmosphere, others it’s the worshipful music, others still it’s the invitation into hope and inclusion.

Eventually, through this holy transformation, we begin to share much more: our dreams, faith, doubt, and the unshakeable sense that God is moving in our midst.

Strangers become holy friends. Together we rejoice, lament, fail, succeed, grow, and are humbled. Together we ask spiritual questions to which there are no known answers. Together we are holy and less-than-holy and no less beloved.

One Sunday, as happens every Sunday, a stranger appeared at First Church. Very quietly, wearing a shirt with wide stripes that we would come to recognize him by. He spoke so quietly that it took several visits to be certain of his name: Rone (pronounced, Rah-knee).

Rone would soon come to frequent worship, coffee hour, and the forums we host about housing in our city. He would sit on the lectern side of the Sanctuary about halfway back, often in that characteristic striped shirt. From time to time, he spent weekday mornings with us as he looked for a place to study the Bible. This usually meant enjoying a cup of coffee and a snack with Brigid, our office manager, before going on his way.

We did not know very much about Rone, but we knew we liked him – and that he seemed to like us. The relationship really clicked when he came through our New Member Class. There, we

learned that he’d been baptized at Twin Falls United Methodist Church some ten years prior. He hadn’t just wandered into any old church, he was one of ours!

After Rone’s health became a concern, our Care Team began to check in. We still did not know very much about Rone, but we knew we still liked him and that he still seemed to like us. Recently, Steve Cromer from the Care Team finally found where Rone stayed and connected over coffee.

Steve mentioned that we’d been worried about him (it had been a while since we had seen him), and Rone gave the assurance that he’d come back around for the holy season of Lent. We were relieved to know he was okay and excited to see him again. Through this care relationship, we hoped to get to know Rone more and be able to support him as his faith community: as strangers who hoped to become friends.

We never did quite get there. Just a few days before the first Sunday this Lent, Rone passed away.

We had received word that Rone wasn’t doing well from his apartment manager and got to work calling all the hospitals to see where he might be a patient. When we learned that Rone had died, his apartment manager let us collect some of his belongings: a Bible and a cross. No family has been located, so as far as the manager was concerned, our church is his family.

As that Care relationship came to a close through Rone’s death, Steve remarked: “Rone Bullhorse was a gentle, unassuming soul who many of you no doubt noticed in services and at various meetings. He passed in February, and we claim him as part of our Church family.”

In Eastertide, we plan to honor Rone by hosting a memorial service in the Chapel after Sunday worship. We will share more details when they are available.

In the brevity that we knew him, it is our prayer that Rone knew that he belonged in our faith community, and that we belonged together. He was a stranger who had become a holy friend. We only wish we could have known him more.

This is the privilege and the sorrow of a faith community like ours. We hold space for those who come through, hoping to invite them into the joy of the resurrection, hoping that we’ll be invited into the joys and sorrows of their lives so that we can rejoice and weep alongside them. When those same strangers – or perhaps now friends – fade away either by distance or death, we pray that we lived the Gospel together the best we could, and that it was clear: they belonged here. We belonged together.

As we remember Rone, we remember the privilege we hold as a way station in the lives of all who come through our community. We honor him by holding this blessing close:

Bear witness to the love of God in this world,
so that those to whom love is a stranger
will find in you generous friends.

In tender gratitude,
Pastor Karyn